The Heir

Victor Kane texts me a photo of Iggy’s contract with his signature scrawled in ink across the bottom.

Iggy and I celebrate by taking a bath in the champagne fountain.

“Thank you, man,” Iggy says, toasting me with a glass he’s too drunk to notice is already empty.

“You’re the talent,” I tell him. “I just had to shine a spotlight on you.”

Iggy sets his glass down, trying to focus his bleary stare on me.

“Why don’t you come with me, man? Come to L.A.?”

“I will,” I say. “But not yet. I’ve got two more years of school.”

“What do you need a degree for?” Iggy says. “You’re already a fuckin’ genius.”

“It’s not the degree,” I say. “It’s the co

As close as Iggy and I have always been, I haven’t told him what Kingmakers is really like. I can’t tell anyone who isn’t a mafioso themselves.

The island is isolated and restrictive. Each student can only bring in a single suitcase, and the list of forbidden items includes alcohol, drugs, and all electronics.

At Kingmakers I do exactly what I did in high school, but on a much grander scale: I’m a broker. I provide contraband, smuggled onto the island via a network of fisherman and locals.

I’ve been hustling since I was twelve years old, saving up every pe

I want to be an actual Kingmaker. The appointer of stars. Creator of music, fashion, and cinema.

I don’t want to be Justin Bieber — I want to be Scooter Braun.

I have no desire for celebrity. The real power is the man behind the curtain. The producer at the epicenter of global culture.

I want to find a hundred Iggys, and I want to drop a thousand albums. I want to produce the next Avengers franchise. And I want to control the billions of dollars of endorsements and ads attached to all of it.

There’s one crucial factor of this dream: I have to do it on my own.

I’m building my empire without a pe

I want to stand on top of the mountain without a single asterisk next to my name.

The American Dream is to be a self-made man.

And that’s why I started my bank account at zero, no trust fund, no cheats. Every dollar I earn goes into that account — every hustle, every deal. I’m at $9.8 million now, money earned by my own meticulous, ingenious, and even reckless labor.

The commission I earned off Iggy’s Virgin contract will put me almost at $10 million.

I think $12 million is the number I need to launch my empire in Los Angeles. I have it all pla

I can see it all perfectly in my mind.

Two more years at Kingmakers, and then I’ll join Iggy in LaLa Land.