Austin Derek Griffin, known as Derek in the rap world, limps slightly as he steps out of a black SUV, his breath curling in the cold. He gazes up at a giant billboard featuring his face, the release date for his album glaringly crossed out and replaced with “TBA.” The disappointment in his eyes is palpable, but determination flickers behind it.
"They keep asking when it's dropping. I just want to give them something real," Derek says to his manager, who follows close behind, clutching a stack of promo flyers.
Derek grimaces as he pushes through the pain, determination etched on his face. His physiotherapist encourages him, counting reps in a steady voice. The ambient sound of beats and unfinished lyrics floats from Derek’s laptop, echoing his creative frustration.
"Every setback’s a setup for a bigger comeback. I need these fans to feel me—like really feel me," Derek breathes between stretches.
The atmosphere is thick with concentration and raw energy. Derek’s producer listens intently, occasionally adjusting levels and offering quiet feedback. Outside, the city is alive, but inside, it’s just Derek and his music—a world of vulnerability and bravado.
"This EP is a taste, just a taste. Certified Lover Boy is gonna change everything," Derek says, voice low but fierce, as he lays down another track.
The excitement surges as the first track plays over speakers, heads nodding in unison. Derek watches from the back, a small smile breaking through his usual stoic expression. The energy is electric—his music is making its mark, even before the main event.
"This isn’t even the album. Wait till September. You’ll see," Derek whispers to a fan who recognizes him.
His manager hands him the final masters of “Certified Lover Boy.” Derek pauses, holding the album in his hands, the weight of the journey reflected in his posture. Laughter and chatter fill the rooftop, but Derek’s focus is laser-sharp—he’s ready.
"We made it. September third, it’s time," Derek announces, voice strong, and the crew erupts in celebration.
He stands at the edge of the stage, the roar of the crowd washing over him. Every setback, every sleepless night, every moment of doubt has led to this. Derek raises the mic, and the music begins—a triumphant anthem echoing through the night.
"Certified Lover Boy is here. Toronto, this is for you," Derek shouts, and the crowd surges forward, united by the journey, the struggle, and the sound.
