The weekend sun washed over Jarad’s small bedroom, casting a warm glow across his desk.
His laptop screen was still open to his SoundCloud profile.
The play counter for Wishing Well was comfortably hovering past seven hundred thousand.
The internet was a massive, hungry machine, but Jarad wasn’t just sitting back to watch it spin.
He was already mapping out his next move.
Sitting in his swivel chair with a spiral notebook open, he lightly tapped his pen against the paper.
In the music industry, a viral first song was a blessing, but it could easily become a curse.
If you didn’t follow it up with something equally powerful, you became a one-hit wonder.
He closed his eyes, scrolling through the seemingly endless vault of Juice WRLD songs burned into his memory.
A lot of the original catalog was laced with lyrics about massive wealth, heartbreak, and drowning in lean and pills.
Just because he was getting sober didn’t mean he was going to censor his art.
Music was storytelling, and those toxic coping mechanisms were exactly what millions of kids were secretly struggling with.
He fully intended to drop those legendary anthems when the time was right.
But pacing was everything.
If he dropped a massive, high-energy flex track like Armed and Dangerous right now, it would give his new fans emotional whiplash.
He needed a second track that expanded on the vulnerability he had just introduced.
Jarad tapped his pen faster.
A specific, soaring melody floated into his mind.
Life’s a Mess.
He opened his eyes, a spark of excitement lighting up his face.
It was a beautiful, melancholic ballad about finding hope and stability when your entire world feels chaotic.
But Life’s a Mess wasn’t a solo track.
It was a massive collaboration, originally featuring the pop superstar Halsey.
Jarad pulled up Google on his laptop and typed in Halsey 2014.
He smiled.
Right now, Halsey wasn’t playing sold-out arenas.
She wasn’t even technically “Halsey” yet.
She was Ashley Frangipane, a nineteen-year-old indie artist with dyed hair, posting raw acoustic covers and deeply emotional poetry on Tumblr.
She was exactly one month away from uploading her breakout song Ghost to SoundCloud.
Right now, she was just an unknown kid with a dream, grinding on the internet just like everyone else.
Jarad quickly created a Tumblr account under the name JuiceWRLD.
He customized the page to match his aesthetic—simple, dark, with a picture of his silver USB microphone as the header.
He remembered her iconic username from this era, typed se7enteenblack into the search bar, and clicked on her profile.
He opened her direct messages and began to type.
JuiceWRLD: Yo.
Been scrolling through your page.
Your acoustic covers are cool, but your poetry is what actually caught my eye.
You write with a lot of raw emotion.
You’ve got a real gift. The source of this chapter is g.com.
He hit send.
He figured he’d have to wait a day or two for a response.
Instead, less than five minutes later, a notification pinged on his screen.
se7enteenblack: thank you!
usually people just reblog the aesthetic photos and ignore the actual writing.
I really appreciate that.
are you a writer too?
your page is pretty blank lol.
Jarad smiled, shifting in his chair as his fingers flew across the keyboard.
JuiceWRLD: Yeah, I make music.
Trying to turn the dark stuff into something people can actually relate to.
It’s better than keeping it all bottled up in a journal.
se7enteenblack: god, isn’t that the truth.
writing is basically free therapy.
it’s rough out here right now.
I’m just trying to figure my life out one acoustic cover at a time.
everything feels like a total mess honestly.
Jarad raised an eyebrow.
She had unknowingly fed him the exact opening he needed.
JuiceWRLD: I feel that more than you know.
Actually, I’m working on a track about exactly that right now.
Finding some kind of peace when your life is chaotic.
It’s funny you used the word mess.
se7enteenblack: it’s the only word that fits right now lol.
I’d love to hear your stuff though!
Do you have a SoundCloud or something?
JuiceWRLD: I do.
I go by Juice WRLD.
I just dropped my first track yesterday.
Kind of an acoustic trap vibe.
You can search it, it’s called Wishing Well.
se7enteenblack: acoustic trap?
okay, you have my attention.
let me go listen, give me three minutes.
Jarad leaned back, listening to the quiet hum of his computer tower.
He imagined her sitting in her room somewhere in New Jersey, probably expecting a terrible, poorly mixed amateur rap song.
Four minutes passed.
Then five.
Suddenly, the Tumblr chat box began to aggressively ping.
se7enteenblack: holy shit.
Are you kidding me???
se7enteenblack: I just searched your name on Twitter!
Chance the Rapper tweeted about you?!
You have 700k plays on your FIRST song?!
se7enteenblack: The vocal pockets on this are insane.
The lyrics…
“toss my pain with my wishes in a wishing well.” I literally have goosebumps right now.
This is YOU?
Jarad chuckled softly at the rapid-fire wall of text.
The reaction was always the best part.
JuiceWRLD: Yeah, that’s me.
It’s been a crazy 24 hours.
But like I said, I reached out because I respect your pen.
We’re both making music for the kids who overthink everything.
se7enteenblack: I am officially your biggest fan.
Seriously, your voice is incredible.
JuiceWRLD: I appreciate that.
Remember that song I mentioned I was working on?
It’s a ballad.
Acoustic foundation, heavy 808s.
It’s called ‘Life’s a Mess’.
I’ve got the chorus and the first verse mapped out, but the second verse is completely open.
He let the message sit for a few seconds before delivering the pitch.
JuiceWRLD: I didn’t want to just spam you with a link out of nowhere.
I wanted to see if we caught the same vibe first.
If I build this beat and send you the demo, would you be down to lay down some vocals?
I think your tone would fit it perfectly.
The typing bubble danced on the screen wildly.
se7enteenblack: Are you serious?
You just blew up overnight and you’re asking ME for a feature?
Yes.
A thousand percent yes.
Send it to me the second you have it.
Jarad smiled, typing out a quick goodbye and closing the chat window.
He pushed his laptop back, grabbed his acoustic guitar, and pulled it into his lap.
His fingers instantly found the first chord of the beautiful, sweeping melody.
He hadn’t just secured a feature; he had planted the seed for a lifelong friendship before the music industry could ever interfere.