In front of the modest little restaurant in Iowa—humble, charming, the kind of place that made you wonder if they still accepted checks—sat a line of sleek black SUVs. The kind of vehicles that practically screamed VIP on board. Out of the first one stepped a group of men in dark suits, earpieces in their ears and scanning their surroundings like they were auditioning for the next Bond film.
But the star wasn't one of the suited men. It was the man still sitting in the backseat of the second SUV: Changpeng Zhao, better known as CZ, crypto billionaire and the big brain behind Binance. He hadn't just come to Iowa for the food. He had zipped in on a private flight just a day after shaking hands—virtually and contractually—with Bill, Ethan Jones' manager. The deal had moved fast, too fast maybe, but when something's good, you don't waste time.
He was here to seal the partnership in person. But that wasn't his only reason for showing up in small-town America with a convoy like he was the President of the Blockchain.
"Rachel, honey! Come on out. Don't you want to meet your favorite artist?" CZ called gently, turning his head toward the back of the car where his daughter Rachel and her three friends—Jasmine, Mariam, and Jumana—sat huddled like chickens in a thunderstorm.
The girls had been in Iowa since yesterday, and of course they'd gone to see Ethan Jones live in concert. They'd screamed, danced, filmed enough TikToks to crash the app—and made a questionable life choice somewhere in between.
So when CZ realized he could "kill two birds with one blockchain" (his words, not anyone else's), he'd decided to surprise the girls by letting them meet Ethan in person. Not only would they be thrilled, but he also got to look like the coolest dad in the world. What teenage girl wouldn't be impressed by a father who could casually say, "Hey, I just closed a major deal with your celebrity crush. You wanna come meet him?"
He'd expected squeals. Tears. A shrine being built in his honor. What he got instead was… hesitation. Awkwardness. A level of fear that made him glance at his deodorant and wonder if he'd overdone it.
Now, the girls were still inside the car, even though Ethan Jones—their pop idol, TikTok king, and walking dream—was only a few steps away.
"Dad! We're coming, okay? We're just… doing something in here!" Rachel called from inside the car.
CZ blinked. "Doing what? What could possibly be more important than meeting Ethan Jones?"
He leaned closer, poked his head through the half-open window—and was immediately met with a wall of girl energy.
"Dad! It's girls stuff! Just—ahh—WAIT! We're coming!" Rachel shrieked, practically tackling the door shut in his face as she shoved him back.
The door slammed. Locked. CZ stumbled back a step, his sunglasses now slightly crooked, a look of stunned betrayal on his face like a man who just found out his favorite crypto dropped 90%.
Inside the SUV, the air was thick with silence and stress.
Rachel took a deep breath, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart. She turned to the others—Mariam, Jumana, and Jasmine—and let out a long sigh. "Okay… so what are we going to do?"
"I don't know," Mariam whispered, clearly on the verge of a nervous breakdown. "They said Ethan is inside. I really want to go in. Like my soul wants to meet him. But—ahhhh—but what if they know it was us?!"
Jasmine groaned and rubbed her forehead. "Why did we do that yesterday?"
"Because we are dumb," Jumana hissed dramatically. "If they find out we were the ones who broke into his tour bus area… we are screwed. Like completely, royally, epically screwed."
Rachel buried her face in her hands. "Oh my God… my dad already thinks something is up. He said he never met your aunt, Jasmine. He was like, 'Isn't Jasmine's aunt staying at the hotel too?' And I just laughed. I laughed, Jasmine."
"I should've just gone back to the hotel," Jumana said suddenly, breaking down. "I knew it. I knew it yesterday when you said, 'Let's just peek at the bus.' I should've said no. I should've called an Uber. But nooo, I had to be cool. I had to follow you guys. And now look where we are. CZ is literally twenty feet away and we're hiding like we robbed a Walmart!"
Mariam quickly reached over and grabbed her hand. "Stop, Jumana. Don't do that. We all agreed to it yesterday. Nobody forced anyone. It wasn't Jasmine's fault. It wasn't anyone's. We were all hyped. We thought it would be fun."
Jumana sniffled but didn't argue.
Mariam gave her hand a light squeeze, then turned toward Jasmine with a calmer tone. "Sorry, Jasmine. You were saying?"
Jasmine just smiled and waved it off. "It's fine."
She took a breath and said—
"It's fine," Jasmine said calmly, giving a small wave. "But listen. Yesterday, we never actually met Ethan, right?"
The girls looked confused. "Huh?"
"Think about it," Jasmine continued. "We broke into the tour bus area, yes. We tried to sneak in. But we never saw Ethan—he never saw us."
Their eyes slowly widened.
"The only ones who caught us were Bella and that scary lady—"
"Rebecca," Rachel whispered like the name summoned ghosts.
"Yeah, her. But Ethan? He doesn't know what we look like. So technically… we're in the clear."
A beat of silence, then:
"Oh my gosh," Mariam gasped. "You're right."
Rachel sat up straighter. "Ethan doesn't know us. And Dad—he's meeting him for a business deal, not a backstage ambush. That means those security or PR people who caught us probably aren't even here."
"We're safe?" Jumana asked, eyes wide.
"We're safe," Jasmine confirmed like a genius lawyer delivering the closing argument of the century.
The girls looked at each other.
"Okay. Let's do this," Rachel grinned, fixing her hair.
"Let's meet Ethan Jones!" Jumana squealed, suddenly the most excited.
They threw open the SUV doors and marched out with fresh confidence, as if they hadn't almost committed a tour-bus felony 24 hours earlier.
—
Inside the cozy Iowa restaurant, Ethan was mid-sentence, sipping a soda. "So who exactly are we meeting, Bill?"
Bill glanced at the door, then smiled. "They're here."
The door swung open.
In stepped CZ, surrounded by his security detail and his daughter's squad of teens who were buzzing with excitement. Ethan blinked—mostly at the giant men in black suits that suddenly made the booth feel like a presidential meeting.
Bill stood up and offered his hand. "Mr. Zhao! Welcome. How was your flight?"
"Smooth. Private jets help," CZ replied with a grin, shaking his hand. "I appreciate the short notice."
Bill turned to Ethan with a proud smile. "Ethan, it's my great pleasure to introduce you to Mr. Changpeng Zhao, the CEO of Binance."
Ethan stood and extended a hand. "It's really nice to meet you, sir."
"The pleasure is all mine," CZ replied warmly. "These are my daughter and her friends. They're huge fans."
Rachel and the girls stepped forward, faces beaming like they were on stage at a Taylor Swift concert. They were seconds from squealing "Hi Ethan!" when—
"You girls?!"
A sharp voice sliced through the room like a knife.
The girls froze mid-step. Slowly, they turned.
Standing at a side table, holding a coffee mug mid-air, was Rebecca—her sharp eyes locked on them like a hawk.
The smiles on their faces collapsed like a failed cake.
Mr. Zhao turned to Rebecca. "You know them?"
The question hung in the air like a bomb.
The color drained from all four girls' faces at once.