After making my rounds in New York City, showing off the music video I was about to release, I reconnected with my cousin Cheez, who had taken a trip down to Jersey to see what I had been up to. After the long drive, we sparked a blunt in his car, as I proceeded to prepare him for the music video I was about to showcase. “This is going to put me on the map,” I said. We made our way downstairs to the recording studio in the basement, and I took my position at the helm of the board. His date, sitting quietly off to the side, watched as we sipped on Hennessy while watching my brand new creation on screen. His eyes watered up, and he gave me a strong embrace. “You’re fucking doing it.” I hugged him and started to cry. The struggles that I had endured, both privately and publicly, had served a purpose in my creative journey, and I had taken my issues with alcohol and turned them into something that I was proud of. Lighting a fire within Cheez, the idea of resurrecting our artistry as an EDM duo seemed to be something which we were both interested in. As he left Storm’s house that night, I hammered in the reality of what was happening. “We have everything you need to be successful.” The night would come to a close, but a new musical chapter was on the horizon. “Alcohol” was my letter to the world that I was serious about my craft, no matter how fucked up I was, and I was ready and eager to see what else we could do.
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