"Young man, your songs are very popular. I'm really happy for you, aren't I?" Sean Combs, dressed in white and wearing black sunglasses, leaned close to Ryan's ear after their photo was taken. He took the opportunity to tighten the arm he had draped around Ryan's shoulders.
"Even though you only have two songs, you're absolutely my first choice for any party playlist!" Sean continued.
No party lover could dislike Ryan. His electronic music had the miraculous effect of being "refreshing and invigorating," making people's blood race.
"You're welcome anytime. I'll have someone give you a number—my private number. Only my closest friends get it. No matter where you are, whether at the top of the Himalayas or in the uninhabited reaches of Antarctica, one phone call and someone will pick you up and bring you straight to my party!"
"Want to know why? Because your songs are fucking amazing. Which record label are you signed to?" Sean Combs continued.
Seeing this, Scooter immediately stepped forward and picked up the conversation, mentioning Republic Records and Jermaine Dupri as well. Sean Combs nodded but said nothing.
Ryan felt a chill run down his spine. The man had come right over and asked for a photo the moment they met—Ryan couldn't exactly turn around and run, could he?
As the flashes went off, Ryan knew he had made it onto the "guest list." If this man ever went down someday, Ryan would not be able to clear his own name either.
A casual online search was enough to reveal that this current entertainment and business mogul had quite the rap sheet. In 1999, after Nas dissed him in a new song music video, Sean stormed into Nas's manager's office with two men and beat him badly.
Also in 1999, he got into