Rise of the Zillionaire Star

Chapter 52: Fake Flames

The morning didn’t open with the blissful sunshine for Jaylen Cruz. It opened with fire.

His phone lit up like a detonating bomb as notifications kept slamming in by the second. Different trending charts, gossip sites and fan forums were all screaming the same thing,

“#JayDelilah

#CrossExposed

#VelvetQueenWins”

Jaylen’s hands tightened around his phone as the first video played. The screen before him  lit up with images of him and Delilah Knox, in what looked very much like a private lounge. She leaned against him, her lips dangerously close. Then there was another  cut. It was the image of Jaylen's hand brushing her arm, then another edit of a kiss. The camera angle blurred, then sharpened, making it look very real.

His jaw locked. He hadn’t kissed her. He hadn’t even touched that glass she handed him. Yet the footage painted it like it was the truth.

Zee flashed across his vision. Its interface beeped red colour.

“System Warning!!!

Credibility -4. Fanbase Trust Level at risk. Counterstrike Required.”

The hashtags floated across the interface.

“Another fake ‘real one.’”

“He’s just another industry pawn.”

“Jaylen was supposed to be different.”

For the first time since rising, Jaylen felt the sting of losing the one thing that made him stand apart from his truth.

He breathed deep trying his best fighting the impulse to punch a wall. ‘No.’ He reacted with anger, but then he realized something, ‘If I react in anger, it would prove them right.’

He took a deep breath. Then, he whispered to himself, “It’s showtime.”

Jaylen locked himself in his studio bunker. Screens brightened the space as ten monitors pulled every clip of the so-called scandal.

“Zee,” he commanded, in a low and sharp voice. “Tear this apart.”

The AI complied. Streams of data flooded like metadata, frame stamps and layers behind layers flooded his view.

“Discrepancies Detected: Timestamp mismatches by 3.4 seconds.

It is inconsistent with the venue’s lighting.

Pixel artifacts flagged as generative AI overlays.”

Jaylen leaned closer after he heard the voice of the system.  One clip showed him with a champagne flute, smiling at Delilah. But Zee revealed the glass wasn’t real. It was composed from another shot. The actual Part was stolen from a different artist’s gala last year.

“This is fabrication,” Jaylen muttered. His face boiled with anger. “But the evidence before me isn’t enough. She runs the press.”

Zee’s holographic reply flashed “agreed.

Counterstrike Must Involve Human Testimony.”

Jaylen knew exactly who it was… Marcus Redd.

She was Delilah's former bodyguard. The man who had walked away from her empire without explanation. Rumors have it that he’d seen too much, but fear kept him silent.

Marcus Redd was not easy to find. Jaylen tracked him to a Brooklyn gym, where the man was busy with a punching bag using his fists like hammers. His arms were scarred, his jaw was tight and his eyes were those of a soldier who had seen too many things.

Jaylen approached slowly. “Marcus.” He called out. 

The man didn’t stop punching. “I’m not interested.” He spoke frantically.

“You don’t even know why I’m here.” Jaylen replied to him.

“I know enough. You are the new target. You think I don’t recognize the pattern?” His fists slammed the bag harder. Thud. Thud. Thud. “Delilah finds someone rising, fakes a bond and then burns them alive when they refuse her leash. You’re not the first.”

Jaylen’s chest tightened. “Then help me make sure I am the last.”

Marcus froze. His knuckles pressed into the leather bag. His voice was bitter. “You don’t get it speaking against her? That’s career suicide. She’ll unleash lawyers, smear campaigns, hell, maybe worse if it's possible.”

Jaylen stepped closer, lowering his tone. “I have stood against Vale, against Harmon and against an entire machine that told me to shut up and fall in line. If I can survive their empire, then you can stand against one queen with a fake smile.”

Marcus’s eyes flickered  with respect for him. Still, his fists trembled. “She owns too much.”

Jaylen delivered the line with the weight of the words in his throat: “Then let’s take it from her.”

There was silence between them but the punching bag swung continuously even though no one was punching it. Finally, Marcus exhaled slowly, “I’ll talk.” His voice carried weight. 

……….

It wasn’t just enough to leak a file or a tweet. Jaylen knew the only battle worth fighting was the one the enemy could watch him bleed.

He knew that would give the enemy an intel that they had won. But then…

Jaylen staged a livestream. It was not from his studio, but the Z-Arena itself. It was the same digital coliseum where his lyrical duels had already become legend. The platform could not be censored. Not even Delilah’s PR could override what Zee broadcast directly.

Millions tuned in instantly. The comment section scrolled faster than his eyes could read, 

“Is Jaylen finally gonna confess?”

“Say it ain’t true, man.”

“#JayDelilah is trending top 1 in the world.”

Jaylen stepped into the spotlight in a steady voice and an unbroken posture. “You’ve seen the clips. You’ve seen the headlines. Tonight, you’ll see the truth.”

He gestured, and Marcus Redd walked into the room. The comments exploded even the more.

“WHO IS THIS GUY?”

“That’s her old bodyguard!”

“No way he’s speaking out… he’ll get killed!”

Marcus gripped the mic. His scarred face was lit by arena light. “My name’s Marcus Redd. I worked for Delilah Knox for three years. And I’m here because lies don’t get to win anymore.”

The crowd hushed as millions of eyes glued to their screens.

“She’s been pulling this scam for years. Staging fake romances. Setting up edited footage. Then leaking it herself to stay relevant. I watched her plant scandals against artists who never even touched her. I cleaned up her mess after her games and kept secrets I shouldn’t have. That's no more.”

The arena erupted in sharp gasps, disbelief and anger.

Jaylen motioned, and Zee activated the second strike. The monitor screens immediately lit with digital forensics like frame overlays, pixel artifacts, time discrepancies. They were all proving that the “intimate” footage of Jaylen was fabricated.

“Look close,” Jaylen told the world. “That’s not real.  All those footage are fabricated. She definitely used an AI to do it.”

The comment section exploded even more, 

“OMG SHE’S A FRAUD.”

“#VelvetLies”

“Marcus Redd is a hero.”

Delilah herself barged into the livestream’s chat feed. Her username flashed royal purple:

@VelvetKnox, “Lies. All lies. Marcus is a bitter dropout. Jaylen is nothing but my failed protégé.”

Her words cut, but Jaylen half-smiled coldly. “You want the last word, Delilah? Let’s give it to you.”

Zee projected an audio clip. It was an old but clear Delilah’s voice, dripping with hate, “You’ll regret making me look weak. Every man bends to me.  You will too.”

The crowd went nuclear. Hashtags flipped in real-time,

#VelvetTrapBroken

#ExposedQueen

#CrossStillTrue

Delilah’s empire cracked in seconds. The mask she had worn for years shattered under the weight of her own voice.

The livestream ended with Marcus placing a hand on Jaylen’s shoulder. For a man who rarely showed softness, it was a signal of passing a torch.

Zee’s interface blinked triumphantly.

“Quest Complete: Velvet Trap Broken.

Rewards: +6 Fame, +5 Z-Credits.”

Jaylen’s fanbase roared back stronger than before. Their faith in him was hardened by fire. Fans who  once doubted him, started admiring him. Jaylen hadn’t bent and hadn’t surrendered to slander. He had faced it head-on and cut through with truth.

Delilah Knox, also called the queen of authenticity, had been dethroned and her empire was reduced to nothing.

Jaylen exhaled. Exhaustion creeped in as the notifications kept coming in. Jaylen didn't felt at peace. It was as if he was trying to survive it all.

Zee’s voice cut through his thoughts. This time, it was colder than the usual, 

“System Alert: Beware, the Velvet Queen bows only to sharpen her claws.

Intelligence Update: Delilah Knox has aligned with Roman Vale.”

Jaylen’s heart stilled.

Roman Vale was the same rival who challenged him at the New York Dome Festival. He joined hands with  the most manipulative person in the industry.

Jaylen realized that the industry trouble just doubled against him.