Rewind With A Superstar System

<🎧 Song Recommendation: Let It Out by Gingerbread Ma—! I mean, Ed Sheeran XD>

...

The music in The Vault didn’t stop. That was the most jarring part of the nightmare. Even as Julian West crumpled onto the plush white leather of the VIP booth, his face a ruin of blood and bruises, the heavy bass continued to thump, vibrating through the floorboards like a heartbeat that didn’t care about the violence above it.

Von stood over him, breathing hurriedly. His right hand was throbbing with a sharp pain that went all the way to his forearm, and when he looked down, he saw his knuckles were slick with crimson.

It wasn’t his blood...

"Von!"

The scream cut through the haze of adrenaline. Naomi grabbed his arm, pulling him back with a strength born of pure terror. Her face was pale beneath the heavy club makeup, her eyes were wide. "What did you do? Oh my god, Von, what did you do?"

Von looked at her. He saw the skimpy corset uniform she was wearing, the spilled tray on the floor, the sheer vulnerability in her posture.

The realization that she had been serving drinks in this hellhole, enduring the groping hands of entitled men just to support him all those while, crashed down on him harder than any other blow.

"He touched you," Von said with a distant tone. "He touched you, Nana. I couldn’t..."

"Get him! Now!"

The bubble of privacy burst. Two security guards in black suits were sprinting up the stairs. They didn’t ask questions nor care about explanations.

Before Von could even raise his hands in surrender, they tackled him. He felt the air leave his lungs as he was slammed face-first into the table, scattering the expensive champagne glasses.

Shards of crystal bit into his cheek as his arms were wrenched behind his back with a force that threatened to dislocate his shoulders.

"Don’t hurt him!" Naomi cried, trying to intervene, but another guard shoved her back, not gently.

Von gritted his teeth against the pain, his cheek pressed into a puddle of spilled vodka. He turned his head just enough to see Julian groaning on the couch. The" Golden Child" rolled over, clutching his face.

Blood poured from his nose, staining his pristine designer shirt with a dark, muddy red. One of his eyes was already swelling shut.

He looked up at Von, and for a split second, their eyes met. There was no anger in Julian’s remaining open eye. Just shock. Pure, unadulterated shock. He looked like a child who had never been told no in his entire life, suddenly realizing that the world could hit back.

"Call the police," the head of security barked into his earpiece. "And get Mr. West first aid. Now!"

***

(Miami Beach Police Department - Holding Cell — 1:15 AM)

Von sat on the cold metal bench with his elbows resting on his knees, staring at his hands. The blood had dried already, but they weren’t forgotten. They had taken his shoelaces, his belt, and his phone.

’What have I done?’

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the cinderblock wall. He had come back in time to fix things. To save his family. To change his destiny. And in less than ten seconds of blind rage, he had potentially destroyed it all. Even landing himself somewhere his former self never got to.

But then, the image of Julian’s hand on Naomi’s waist flashed in his mind. The look of fear in his sister’s eyes.

Von clenched his fists. ’No... I don’t regret it. If being a star means letting people like him treat my family like trash, then I don’t want it.’

The sound of the heavy door unlocking soon came through.

"Varley," a guard said from a piece of paper he looked at. "Interrogation Room B. You have visitors."

Von stood up slowly and walked out of the cell. He stopped for a second to watch his reflection on a window, and he truly looked like a criminal. How pitiful...

Inside the small interrogation room, Zack and Naomi were waiting.

The sight of them broke his heart. Naomi had wiped off most of the heavy makeup, but her eyes were red and swollen from crying.

She was wearing a large, oversized hoodie over her work uniform, trying to hide herself. Zack sat next to her, looking like he had aged ten years in three hours. He was still wearing his pajamas under a hastily thrown-on jacket, his hair a mess, too.

"Von," Naomi whispered. She rushed toward him as he was sat down and handcuffed to the table. She reached out, holding his hand close. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

"I’m fine," Von said before exhaling. "Why didn’t you tell me, Nana? Why didn’t you tell me you were working there?"

Naomi looked down, fresh tears spilling over now. "I’m sorry... I was left with few choices."

Von wasn’t angry at her, but the situation made him mad. "You were serving drinks to scumbags like Julian. He treated you like property..."

"You shouldn’t have hit him," Zack cut in, and this time his voice didn’t have its usual warmth. He wasn’t even looking at Von with sympathy.

"Von, do you understand what you just did?" Zack asked. "You didn’t just get into a bar fight. You assaulted Julian West. In front of witnesses. In a club full of Miami’s elite."

"He assaulted my sister first," Von shot back with flashing eyes. "He was forcing himself on her. I defended her."

"And who is going to believe that?" Zack asked with a raised eyebrow. "Von, look at the optics. Naomi is a cocktail waitress in a gentlemen’s club environment. Julian is America’s Sweetheart. They’ll say she was flirting. They’ll say you were drunk and jealous of his success. It’s he-said-she-said, and he has the money to scream louder than you."

Zack face-palmed after the dumb. "You are looking at charges for Aggravated Battery. That’s a felony, Von. Forget the show, you could go to prison for up to fifteen years. Your life is over."

The silence in the room was deafening after Zack’s cold words.

"Prison?" Naomi held her chest. "Zack, you said... you said you could fix this!"

"I said I would try," Zack snapped. "But I didn’t expect it to be this deep, at this point, there’s nothing I or any real lawyer can do to help him."

Von processed Zack’s words in silence... He was truly fucked up, he didn’t believe thing could get this worse so quickly.

"So what do I do?" he asked in defeat. "Just sit here and rot?"

Zack opened his mouth to speak, but the heavy steel door swung open again.

A police officer walked in, a senior sergeant with a thick mustache. He held a clipboard in his hand and looked at Von with a strange expression, half confusion, half suspicion.

"You’re free to go," the officer said gruffly.

Zack’s head snapped up so fast his neck cracked. "Excuse me?"

The officer unlocked Von’s handcuffs. "The victim, Mr. West, has refused to press charges. He signed a waiver of prosecution ten minutes ago."

Naomi let out a sob of relief, collapsing into the chair. "Oh, thank God. Thank God."

Von rubbed his wrists, staring at the officer. "He... he let me go? Why?"

"Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, kid," the officer muttered, tossing a plastic bag with Von’s belt and phone onto the table. "He gave a statement saying it was a misunderstanding between friends that got out of hand. He said he doesn’t want to ruin a young man’s life over a drunken mistake. You’re lucky he’s a saint. Now get out of my station before I find something else to charge you with."

***

The ride back to the dorm was silent. The city of Miami was waking up, the sky turning a soft pink, oblivious to the fact that Von’s world had ended in the darkness.

Zack drove with focused but distant eyes on the road. Naomi sat in the back, exhausted, staring out the window. Von sat in the passenger seat, watching the palm trees blur by. He didn’t feel relief. He felt a creeping suspicion that was worse than the fear of jail.

Why would Julian let him go? Julian, who was arrogant, petty, and manipulative? It didn’t make any sense.

When they got into the dorm room after dropping Naomi off at her apartment, the silence finally broke. Zack walked straight to his desk and opened his laptop.

"You must be feeling really lucky, right?"

"He dropped the charges, Zack..." Von said, sitting heavily on his bed to voice his own conclusions. "He knows he was wrong. He knows if this goes to court, the truth about what he did to Naomi comes out. He’s scared."

"No," Zack shook his head, turning the laptop screen toward Von. The blue light illuminated Zack’s tired, angry face. "He didn’t drop the charges because he was scared. He dropped them because he wants to own you. He dropped them because jail is too easy."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look," Zack pointed at the screen.

It was a breaking news article from a local news outlet, TMZ. It had been posted forty minutes ago. It already had over two thousand shares.

[PROJECT: STAR SHOCKER: FINALIST VON VARLEY ARRESTED FOR BRUTAL ASSAULT ON JULIAN WEST]

[In a shocking turn of events just days before the Grand Finale, finalist Von Varley was detained by Miami PD early Wednesday morning after allegedly beating fellow contestant Julian West unconscious at an exclusive South Beach nightclub.

According to multiple eyewitnesses inside The Vault, Varley, who appeared heavily intoxicated and belligerent, attacked West in the VIP section without provocation. One witness stated: "Julian was just sitting there, trying to calm him down, and Von just snapped. He started punching him like a maniac. It was terrifying."

West, who was rushed to Cedars-Sinai Medical Center, suffered a broken nose, a fractured orbital bone, and severe facial bruising. Photos of the bloody scene have already begun circulating on social media.

Despite the brutal nature of the attack, sources close to the West family say the singer has chosen NOT to press charges against his former roommate.

"Julian is a man of deep faith and forgiveness," a representative for the West family stated in an exclusive comment. "He understands the immense pressure Von is under and believes this was a mental health break rather than an act of malice. He hopes Von gets the professional help he clearly needs."

This incident raises serious questions about Varley’s stability and his future in the competition. Can a violent offender still be America’s Next Superstar? Project: Star producers have yet to comment, but insiders suggest an immediate disqualification is being discussed.]

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A/N: This month hasn’t really been the best for us. We’ve gotten 4 Golden Tickets so far (50% indirectly from myself...), and zero reviews... While it’s mostly my fault with release rate, most of the Chapters are longer than usual, and I’m seriously working on increasing the frequency (more so if the novel shows promise). If there are criticisms, or something I could improve with, please let me know! 🙏 Thanks a bunch for reading and supporting, I really appreciate all of you! 💜😇