Reborn Scumbag: Jizzing to the Top of the Music Empire and Hollywood Chapter 6: Street Jesus

Two days had passed. He had just one day left before the scheduled signing with T-Ray.

Worried about retaliation from Davis, Leon hadn't gone to the subway station to busk these past couple of days.

The thought process of so local gangbangers was truly a wonder to behold—sotis all it took was a "What you lookin' at?" on the street to get guns drawn.

What Leon did to Davis was, at best, a backstab; at worst, it was crushing a man's dream. So, he laid low in the shared house, too afraid to step outside.

To keep Bonnie from complaining, his kidneys had been working overti. He was visibly thinner.

"WTF, Leon! Get your ass over here! Look at this!" Bonnie was lying on the bed in nothing but lace lingerie, fiddling with her phone and gasping like she'd just seen a ghost.

"What is it?"

Leon was cautious, terrified this was just another one of Bonnie's tricks to lure him into another round.

He seriously couldn't take it anymore.

Eating nothing but canned food and pre-cooked bacon while engaging in high-intensity cardio three tis a day—more regularly than his actual als—was taking its toll. He could feel a dull ache in his lower back.

"Just look! You're trending on YouTube!"

"YouTube? Sounds familiar."

Leon didn't have a smartphone yet, so he was naturally out of the loop when it ca to social dia platforms.

Although the concept of an "internet celebrity" had existed since around 2004, social dia wasn't exactly mainstream yet.

It wasn't until March 2010, when YouTube started offering free streaming of certain movies, TV shows, and even sports broadcasts, that its user base really exploded.

Working at a nightclub, Bonnie was naturally exposed to the latest trends. Whenever she had free ti, she was glued to her phone, scrolling endlessly in bed.

"It's too hard to explain, just co look!"

After triple-checking it wasn't a trap, Leon suspiciously took the iPhone 3GS from Bonnie's hand.

Playing on the screen was a video of Leon in the dim subway station, playing his guitar and singing Take to Church.

The title was even more ridiculous: Brownsville Street Jesus.

Visually speaking, Leon's look in the video really did bear a striking resemblance to the Big Man Upstairs as portrayed in movies.

"Who the hell fild this?"

Leon scratched his head, but quickly realized the answer.

It had to be one of the onlookers from that day who uploaded it online.

"It's already got 200,000 views! It's incredible... you're going to be famous!"

"Famous? Is 200,000 views a lot?"

Bonnie grabbed Leon's face and planted two big kisses on his forehead, patiently explaining the situation.

In the current internet landscape, a video getting over a hundred thousand views was a big deal.

Leon was a bit confused, but he got the gist of it.

"What good does that do? Can views be exchanged for cash?"

"No." Bonnie shook her head. "But it ans you're a celebrity in Brownsville now."

"Yes! My roommate is a celebrity!"

Seeing her ecstatic reaction, Leon couldn't relate. Without a way to monetize it, fa only brought trouble.

"You're really gonna be famous, Leon! Take off your pants, I'm going to reward you properly!"

Saying that, Bonnie ripped off the last piece of fabric covering her body and started twerking for Leon.

The high-frequency shaking of her "tail lights" made Leon's liver tremble. He grabbed his guitar and fled the scene, sprinting toward the church to get his daily charity al.

---

The line for the charity al was long as usual. Leon cursed under his breath as he waited. "Fk... over a hundred years ago, plantation owners at least knew to feed their slaves so fried chicken. Now, rotten mashed potatoes and corn pass for a relief al..."

"Are... are you Street Jesus?!"

"What?"

Leon turned his head to find an old Black man staring at him in terror, his fingers trembling.

Soon, more and more people in line noticed Leon. Ignoring their empty stomachs, they crowded around him.

"What are you all staring at for?!"

Leon couldn't figure it out. He was just a little famous on the internet—how did the holess population of Brownsville know who he was?

Smartphones were definitely out of their price range.

For soone in a specific industry like Bonnie, owning the latest tech was a necessary way to signal her "baddie" status.

But these holess guys? Forget smartphones, most of them probably hadn't even touched a computer.

So how did they know about "Street Jesus"?

Being surrounded by a group of holess n made a chill run down Leon's spine, especially seeing the hungry glint in their eyes.

These were people living in a state of long-term repression. When pushed to the brink, gender—or even humanity—didn't matter much to them.

"Chill out, guys... Can I ask what the hell is going on?"

The old holess man numbly pointed to a graffiti wall nearby. Leon followed his finger and saw that the wall, usually covered in violent gang signs and gun imagery, had been completely repainted.

Now, it featured a massive mural of him, guitar in hand, roaring in anger. The artist had even thoughtfully added a glowing halo above his head.

The graffiti was even more impactful than the video. The ghetto never lacked true artists.

"Looks like Bonnie was right... I really am famous in Brownsville."

Leon stared blankly at the giant mural, while the holess crowd began to get restless.

"Street Jesus... can you give a hug? My ex-wife had four kids and none of them were mine."

"Can you say a prayer for ? I've been battling alcoholism..."

"Can I kiss you?"

Clearly, life and drugs had hallucinated these poor souls into confusing Leon with the actual ssiah.

Leon struggled to break free, cursing as he pushed through. "Fk! What do you want?! Get away from , you damn loser ns! God's calling can't wake you up!"

"The only sound you understand is the crack of a whip!"

It took a lot of effort, but Leon finally broke out of the encirclent, cursing the trouble this useless nickna had brought him.

He wanted a cigarette to calm his nerves, but his pack was empty. He had less than three dollars to his na.

He was an internet celebrity, a singer about to release a record, and he only had enough money for a single condom.

"Wait..."

A dirty little money-making sche popped into Leon's head.

Since even the holess knew him, it ant he was, to so extent, a "star" in Brownsville.

He doubled back to the church. Taking advantage of a distracted volunteer handing out als, he swiped a spare white tablecloth, then booked it to the subway station with his guitar.

After so quick work in the station bathroom, he erged with a glamorous transformation.

He was barefoot, wrapped in the white tablecloth like a robe.

Combined with his wild long hair and ssy stubble, walking down the street, he looked like the spitting image of a reincarnated Jesus carrying the sins of the world.

A look this flashy was impossible to ignore. When he picked up his guitar in the subway station and started singing Take to Church, the crowd blocked the entire corridor.

When he hit the climax of the song, the audience's emotions were whipped into a frenzy.

Singing along, they couldn't help but toss bill after beautiful bill at Leon's feet.