Drake was backstage at the BET Awards when he heard a familiar voice.

"Drizzy Drake! What's happening?"

It was Kendrick Lamar, winner of the Best Male Hip-Hop Artist award. Drake had been up for the award too, but he wasn't sore about it. How could he be? His debut album was an instant classic, and he had the privilege to appear on one of the best tracks, "Poetic Justice." And besides, he'd already won two awards that night. Why not spread the wealth?

"K-Dot, sup," Drake said, turning around with a big smile. "Best male rapper, that's tight. I'm not even mad at ya."

"Thanks again for being on 'Poetic Justice,' it was a real honor," Lamar said, reaching out to shake his hand.

"Think nothing of it, man," Drake said. "My only regret is that we weren't in the booth together, and we weren't on the set for the video."

"Yeah, we gotta change that," Lamar said, nodding emphatically. "Let's book some real studio time, do some Watch the Throne shit, just me and you."

"Yeah! I don't usually say this to other emcees, but I wish my verse on 'Fuckin' Problems' was even half as good as yours," Drake said with a slightly sheepish tone. "'Halle Berry, HALLELUJAH!' — that's some good shit right there."

Lamar reached out for a hug, and Drake acquiesced, though he wasn't normally the type who likes to hug. As the two held each other, Drake was overcome with a feeling of respect and acceptance. Kendrick was one of the few rappers in the game who was about his age and had the same level of talent and success. If anyone out there could truly understand him, it was Kendrick. Fate had brought them together.

"Is it true what you say in that song?" Lamar asked as they broke apart from their brief embrace. "No new friends?"

"I dunno," Drake mumbled, and then looked down at his phone, pretending to read a text. "Look, I gotta go." He picked up his drink and walked down the hall to his dressing room without saying another word.

"Peace," Lamar said, waving good-bye.