Rankings

After a long, exhausting day at the Rising Star auditions, Prince Jefferson hailed a cab and leaned back against the seat, letting out a deep breath. The thrill of passing the first round was still fresh, but reality was quick to remind him—he still had bills to pay.

When the taxi pulled up in front of a small, lively bar, he paid the fare and headed to the back entrance. The muffled sound of music and chatter seeped through the walls, a stark contrast to the quiet tension of the audition room just hours ago.

Pushing open the door, he stepped inside the staff dressing room, where a tall, scruffy fox beastman was adjusting his vest in front of a mirror.

"Yo, Prince!" the fox greeted him without looking away from his reflection. "How'd your little adventure go?"

Prince smirked. "Guess what, Nick?"

Nick Wilde—the same smooth-talking con artist from Zootopia, but in this world, he was a waiter-slash-bartender. A co-worker, an occasional bad influence, and a full-time sarcastic menace. He rolled his eyes and tossed a clean uniform at Prince. "Just spit it out already, you punk!"

Prince caught the clothes with a laugh. "I got a pass!"

"Hell yeah, man!" Nick pumped his fist before nudging Prince's shoulder. "You better start practicing your autograph, 'cause when you get famous, I'm selling 'em at a high price on FurBay!"

"Yeah, yeah, right," Prince said, shaking his head as he changed into his work clothes.

---

Prince leaned against the counter, watching Nick do what Nick did best—put on a show.

The fox spun a cocktail shaker in one hand, caught a glass in the other, and tossed an ice cube into the air before catching it perfectly in the drink.

A small crowd of customers near the bar clapped as he slid a neon-blue cocktail toward a lioness.

"That, ladies and gentlemen, is how you make a Blue Moon Special," Nick said with a wink.

Prince chuckled. "Show-off."

Nick shrugged, wiping down the counter. "What can I say? Some of us have talent."

Before Prince could fire back, a voice called from the kitchen.

"Hey, Prince! Steak for table nine!"

"Got it!"

Grabbing the plates, he weaved through the busy bar, dodging customers swaying to the live music. A beagle beastman was on stage, singing a slow, soulful rendition of "Dive" by Ed Sheepran.

As he reached table nine, he set down the steaks with a polite smile. "Here you go. Enjoy your meal."

The customers barely acknowledged him, too caught up in their conversation.

Ah, the joys of customer service…

Prince returned to the bar, leaning against the counter again, lost in thought.

How can I level up my singing faster?

Nick, who had just finished flipping a glass into a perfect landing, nudged him.

"Hey, why don't you ask the manager to sing on stage? Might boost your career a little."

Prince shook his head. "You know I can't. I don't even have an Artist Rank yet."

In this world, music wasn't just about talent—it was about status.

The World Artists Union (WAU) developed a ranking system that categorized all artist, based on their influence.

F-Rank: An artist who gains recognition online by creating content, such as posting music or performances on platforms like TikTok.

D & C-Rank: Rising stars with growing recognition.

A & B -Rank: Local celebrities with solid fanbases.

S-Rank: Global superstars known everywhere.

Only S-Rank artists—like Michael Jackalson (yes, a literal jackal)—were world-famous.

Since Prince had zero online presence in this world, he wasn't even F-Rank. Which meant… no professional gigs.

"Meh, what gives?" Nick shrugged. "You don't need a fancy rank to play music. Just grab a guitar and go for it."

Prince sighed. "Maybe next time."

Nick wiped down the counter. "Fine, fine. But if you're too shy to play here, why not go busking? You can make money and gain experience."

Prince blinked. Why didn't I think of that?

He quickly pulled out his phone, searching for popular busking spots in Calatonia.

No way was he getting arrested for illegal street performances.

The Next Morning

Prince stepped out of his apartment, guitar strapped to his back, a huge grin on his face.

"Alright… let's go busking!"