Chapter 2

The train whistled past roughly, and the beat started rolling. The chiptune notes played, and the song was on. He let the sound of his singing fill the sound stage. The entire verse he kept his eyes locked on Keith, watching the boy's face light up at the challenge.

Just as his breath finished, Kieth raised his mic. He took Pico's words and twisted them to his own flow. Kieth seemed to dance through the notes with clarity and softness, complimenting, accentuating the singing Pico had performed. Something in his gut twisted and fluttered. As Keith finished the line, Pico took over, right into the flow.

He belted off the second verse, Kieth's face lighting up in response. It was beautiful, the way the light of the passing train glimmered across his eyes. Fuck, no getting distracted. It didn't help that soon Kieth's voice overtook his. He took Pico's deep mumble-rap into a light tenor chord, with fun twists on the words sung. He hadn't missed a beat; Who was this guy?

But still, Pico wasn't known as the best beat in town for no reason. He took a step towards Keith, letting a confident smirk play across his face as he started the lyrics, firing off a wink his way as he drew his MAC off his belt in accentuation. It sounded perfect, creating that classy, badass atmosphere he wanted. The quick lyrics, beating together, everything was perfect. Victory was in the bag.

And then, he couldn't hide the shock in his face as Keith stepped right up to him, placing his off hand on Pico's weapon hand, and pulling him closer, all while singing. He took a half step back in reflex. That was when Pico knew he'd lost. So shocked by the bold move by Kieth, he stuttered the next line. Fuck! The only way to salvage it , well, is to make sure Keith fucked up too.

As he continued the next verse, he pulled his weapon back towards him, dragging Kieth along. The twerp thought he could fight dirty and win? He looked down on Keith by an inch or two, smirking at the blush creeping partially over Kieth's face. Kieth didn't back down, but almost seemed to let the challenge fuel him.

So absorbed in the music, neither Kieth nor Pico noticed the crowd's wolf whistles, nor the cameras trained on them. Girlfriend sat on the speaker, bobbing her head, and a small smile had formed on her lips at the sight of them. If any of them were looking closely, they may have noticed her eyes flash red.

Pico could feel the sweat building on his brow, but began the last verse in earnest. He knew it, he was royally fucked. The last chords played, accompanying Kieth's beautiful climax of the song. As the keyboard chords plucked to finale, Pico looked into the eyes before him and licked his lips nervously. Now acutely aware of their proximity, he took a step back. Pico's face flushing, Keith smiled boldly, face bright red from exertion.

With nimble motions, Girlfriend jumped off the speakers, landing between the two. To the crowd she smiled, and grabbed both boy's hands. She raised Pico's swiftly,

"Let's hear it for Pico!"

The crowd went wild, cheering and shouting, and Pico couldn't help but grin. But it still would come down to whether it was enough. Girlfriend lowered his hand, pulling Kieth's up instead. "And for Keith!"

The crowd lost their minds. He knew it, but still thought to hope. Turning to Keith, he saw the pride there, and noticed Keith looking back at him, his eyes bright and happy. Shoving his gun back in his pants he gave a small thumbs up victor, blocking out the noise of the crowd.

Over the din of the crowd, Kieth walked over and spoke up.

"You did amazing tonight, it was like facing down an oncoming train!"

Pico rolled his eyes in response. "Oh please, you and I both know you barely broke a sweat to keep up. You sang it like you knew my songs from heart! Good job on the win though, seriously." his voice grew softer, "It's been a long time since I've fought someone with a fear of actually losing. It's refreshing to say the least," he paused, a smirk playing across his face, "I promise you Saturday won't be so easy."

"Give yourself some credit Pico, you challenged me head on and left me feeling breathless," his smile turned devious, "Plus I mean, if you sing like this, can't believe you even have time to be here with all the ladies that must swarm you!"

Pico couldn't help but laugh in response. "Says the one with no personal bubble, or fear of firearms. Seriously! You could've caused me to misfire had my finger been on the trigger! What were you thinking? You're lucky I didn't have a round racked in the chamber."

Kieth's face blanched.

"Wait- that's NOT a prop? You waved a real gun in my face?" His eyes widened comically. The absolute transition from the confidant rapping victor to this ashen-faced, wide-eyed boy was too much. It started as a small smile, then a giggle, and soon, a laugh slipped out of his mouth.

Kieth tried to keep indignant, but the bright warmth on Pico's face laughing, so unlike the hardened rapper that he'd faced on the stage, brought giggles to match.

Pico smiled happily, and readily agreed with his inner thoughts that having a rival was almost better than a day at the range without an ammo limit. Almost. His gut hurt from laughing so much, but he couldn't bring himself to care. The sore throat, the sweaty brow, the pang of losing, all of it paled in comparison to finally meeting someone who could- god he didn't know how to word it- who could synchronize with his wavelength. Match his caliber. His eyes flitted to Girlfriend as she walked over, softly smiling at the two.

"Well boys, thanks so much for a good performance!" she leaned over, laying a hand on Kieth's endearingly, "You did great today, really… Oh! And uh, Pico! You did good too! Thanks so much for sticking around after today's show! Last time you scurried home like Kieth had done something shameful! Haha~" She laughed a small melody, not noticing the mask of cool nonchalance pull back over Pico's features.

"Thanks, and I guess it's a pleasure to finally meet you properly, you made a good judge for the night." He said almost as an afterthought, "I guess I should really be getting home, See you Saturday then?" he directed his question at Kieth.

Kieth nodded, visibly pleased with today. As Pico began walking away, his eyes widened. Quickly grabbing paper and a marker, he penned something down on the acquired paper.

"Oh! Hey P! Before you leave, you owe me for our bet!" He walked over, the hastily scribbled note in his hand. Pico plucked the note shoved towards him, a small tear-off of one of the posters with a number written in a messy scrawl. a small cartoonish drawing of Kieth smiled up at him next to it.

"Text me when you get the chance," Kieth intoned softly, a smile playing at his lips. "I do love a good challenge, and I'll need to be good and practiced to kick your ass one more time."

Pico rolled his eyes, somehow making the action endearing. "Please, even with my help, it'll be a sweet sight watching you go home in that fancy car of yours, tearful and mopey after the beat-down I'll put you through!" he touched Kieth on the shoulder gently, "But yea man, I'll make sure to keep in touch. For the bet of course!"

He walked away from the now grinning Kieth, a smirk once again glued to his face. It was nice to have someone to consider a rival. It would be the closest thing to a friend he'd seen in quite a long time.

-later that night-

Pico lay on his bed after a hot shower, an energy drink on the nightstand next to him. The pale blue light of his phone cascaded over his face, making his already tired visage look even grimmer. The phone lay open in front of him, the number punched in to the sender bar. For what felt like the 50th time for the night, he deleted the lines he'd written. Sighing, he rolled over onto his back.

Blowing hair out of his face he glared at the offending object. Hey Kieth, it's ya boy, Pico de' Losero. God that sounded corny. He tried again. Yo, sorry for the late message, thought we'd plan for this bet G. Did he actually just type that bullshit? He rolled his eyes, before finally jotting down and sending a message:

Pico: Hey.

Real elegant Pico, way to sound like a wordsmith. You can write full songs and the best thing you think of to send to a fellow rapper is hey? Pathetic. He set his phone on the bed, lying back to stare at the ceiling. Doesn't matter anyways, he probably dozed off a few hours ago when the clock hit 11. His phone buzzed, startling him. He started with the noise, cracking his head against the headboard.

Nursing his still throbbing skull, he pulled his phone towards him. Speak of the devil and there he be. A simple message was sent in response:

Kieth: Hey yourself :) You ready to pay up?

Pico: Pffft sure, so how we gonna do this?

Kieth: I know gingers are known for their good looks and lack of braincells, but still. I'd suggest maybe we'd meet up, and we'd rap. Rinse wash Repeat.

Pico: Blue Balled Smartass.

Pico: Okay but actually

Pico: Public or private?

Pico: Good times?

Pico: Should I bring snacks?

Pico: Hello?

Pico felt his breath hitch. Did he go to far with the joke? He started typing up an apology, and a new message popped up right before he hit send.

Kieth: Sorry, was taking a piss, and idk abt u but I ain't touchin' my phone with piss hands.

Pico snorted at the ridiculousness of the reply.

Kieth: And uhhh, probably private. Not sure if there's rules about unnofficial rap battles in the contract. So your place or mine? Rather not lose my soul over practice lessons.

He glanced around his home, the small, messy studio. His eyes flicked over the overflowing recycling bin to the laundry in the hamper waiting for the second week in a row to be folded. He typed out a reply, lying through his teeth to hide his embarrassment.

Pico: ...I'd say yours. My neighbors aren't too fond of strangers or noise.

Kieth: Snds good! See you tomorrow arnd like 4-6 ish okay?

Pico: Sound perfect, I'll head your way after work.

Kieth: kk. Heading to bed now. Brain fuzzy from too much good rap. Gn gn.

Pico stared at his phone, and decided on what to write. Typing and retyping his reply to test wording, he left kieth with a succinct:

Pico: Night.

He set his phone down next to the note he'd been given, relaxing into his pillow again. Tomorrow would be the first test, and he had 3 more days to complete another track to blow Kieth's socks off. Even with his mind on music, his dreams seemed full of Blue Hair and proud smiles.