Everybody Loves Young Miko

Young Miko is taking me for a drive to Piñones, the northeastern Puerto Rico hot spot known for its mesmerizing ocean views and long history as a stronghold of Afro-Caribbean culture. “I knew I had to bring you here,” she tells me. And she was right: A Puerto Rican in the diaspora always longs to come home to a paradisiacal drive along the coast, stopping for food and drinks, and smelling the salty air along the way.

Miko knows all about that. February just started, and the 26-year-old urbano wunderkind is making her way back from a monthlong trip that took her to Los Angeles, Miami, and New York as she wraps her debut full-length album. She’s spent much of the past year away from home, traveling across Spain and Latin America for her Trap Kitty world tour. In between, she played the biggest gigs of her career: seven nights opening for Karol G at stadiums from Los Angeles to New Jersey. Miko still calls Puerto Rico home for now, but she’s getting acquainted with a reality generations of Puerto Ricans before her have had to face: You have to leave to make your dreams come true, or even just to find work. “Now I understand why Puerto Ricans who live outside are sometimes even more patriotic,” she tells me as we make our way to Piñones.

The past three years have propelled Young Miko from a tattoo artist with 10,000 followers on Instagram to a global Latin-music phenomenon with more than 31 million monthly listeners on Spotify. She appeared on some of 2023’s biggest albums — Bad Bunny’s Nadie Sabe Lo Que Va a Pasar Mañana and Tainy’s Data among them — lending her tough yet delicate voice and sly Spanglish lyricism to both projects as one of few featured women collaborators. Last summer, she made her first appearance on the Billboard Hot 100 with a Feid duet. It all came on the heels of her 2022 EP, Trap Kitty, the project that positioned her as one of urbano’s most exciting talents. “Sometimes I feel like the car is going really fast and I’m just holding on for dear life,” Miko says.

You wouldn’t know that by watching Miko swiftly cruise through Piñones at the wheel of a tall blue SUV, adding to a sense of adventure typical to this area. Before we made our way there, she asked her friend Kaly — sitting in the back with Sofia, Miko’s publicist — to put on a playlist the artist has been working on for a while. It’s filled with early-2000s Spanish-language hits, from Alek Syntek and Ana Torroja’s “Duele el Amor” to La Quinta Estación’s “El Sol No Regresa.” It’s the kind of music we both grew up listening to on Puerto Rican radio, and according to Miko, the type of tracks that are just not made anymore. “I don’t know what they put in songs back then,” she says.

Miko’s not quite sure why this music is fueling her mood lately, but she confesses that a good fictional heartbreak is always necessary. The classic structure of those ballads still influences her today: She was inspired by those short verses and repetitive chorus breakdowns for her hit “Riri.”

The vibe of Miko’s music thus far has been more one-night stand than lifelong romance. But when I ask her if ballads would ever be her thing, she laughs: “Maybe!” To be fair, some of her biggest inspirations redefined the concept of heartbreaking ballads: Ricky Martin, Kany García, Miguel Bosé, Shakira, and Julieta Venegas are all on that list. Although she hasn’t met most of her idols, she recently learned Shakira is a fan.

Moving among legends is one of those new realities that make Miko feel like she’s living in a movie of her own making. From bombastic duo Jowell and Randy to pioneering producer Tainy, it’s hard to find someone in urbano who hasn’t endorsed Miko’s knack for punny lyricism and sultry bars. She’s collaborated with other emerging talents, like Villano Antillano, Tokischa, and Nicki Nicole, as well as established heavy hitters like Arcángel, Yandel, and Wisin. She still has one big collaboration on her wish list: Doja Cat. “I’m such a fan of hers from forever ago, when she’d release stuff in, like, 2015,” she says. “That would be so amazing.”

Miko is one of a few queer women changing urbano from the inside, transforming its sound and lyrics to channel a more free and inclusive reality for both artists and fans. It’s a feat Miko says she’s able to do thanks to other queer artists before her, like Martin and García, whose coming-out stories made for big tabloid fodder. “They’re legends for doing what they did,” she says.

Miko’s lyrics are filled with raunchy innuendoes that speak directly to women, something she never had doubts about when she first started her career. Her self-assurance as a queer woman has a lot to do with her parents’ acceptance, which she says influenced her view of the world. “I was born at the right moment,” she says. “There’s still a lot to do, obviously, but I think it’s only going forward. What a time to be alive.”

Perhaps it’s because of Miko’s bravery that her fans have felt the freedom to create their own identity. It all started when a fan posted on X (formerly Twitter) about liking Miko so much they felt like a “mikosexual.” “They just ran with it,” Miko says. “I have the best fandom in the world.”

When we meet in early February, Miko’s long-awaited collaboration with Argentinian producer Bizarrap has just surpassed 50 million views on YouTube. She first manifested the track in her 2022 hit “Bi,” where she imagined flirting with “a baby from Argentina who asks me, ‘When’s the Biza session coming out?’” Over Bizarrap’s electronic-rap hybrid beat, Miko flaunts the spoils of her success, running Jet Skis in Mallorca, Spain, and flying first-class to Madrid.

Lately, she’s been spending time with some of the biggest stars on the planet. Back in 2023, she and Bad Bunny crossed paths in Los Angeles, where they recorded “Fina” for the Puerto Rican superstar’s latest album. Miko recalls being enamored with the track from the moment he showed it to her: “I heard that Tego sample and went crazy,” she says, referring to the tidbit from Tego Calderón’s “Pa’ Que Retozen” sprinkled through the track.

Miko’s time on tour with Karol G proved another pinch-me moment. Not only was Miko the opener, but she also joined the Colombian Grammy winner to sing their collaboration “Dispo,” from Karol’s most recent album. At one show, Miko grabbed Karol’s hand to grind onstage, prompting the Colombian to scream into the mic, “Now, I’m the one that’s nervous!” “It was one of the most fun experiences,” Miko says of the tour. “She’s mesmerizing.”

Although the two first interacted at a festival in L.A. in January 2023, and shared the stage in Puerto Rico during a Karol G concert that spring, they actually started bonding later, over FaceTime. Miko says that she ignored the first text Karol G sent her because it was signed “Carolina.” Later, Miko was curious enough to send a FaceTime request, wondering if it might be the real-life Karol G on the other side of the bubble. “It was dark in her room, but you could tell it was her from her voice,” Miko says, imitating Karol’s famous Medellín accent. During the tour, Karol G took Miko under her wing, inviting her to join her through warmups and soundchecks. “The Karol G internship was real,” Miko jokes. The Colombian artist recently gave Miko another milestone on her résumé: playing Karol G’s romantic interest in the music video for her Tiesto collaboration, “Contigo.”

It all may be part of a day’s work for her now, but none of it is lost on Miko. “Seeing these people and thinking they’re superstars and brilliant,” she says, “to suddenly they’re my friends and we create together … This feels like a different life.”

BEFORE SHE TOOK OVER urbano as Young Miko, it was María Victoria Ramírez de Arellano, known to her family and friends as Vicky, who first dreamed of a career as an artist. The only daughter in her family, Miko remembers her childhood as “very simple.” She grew up in the northwestern town of Añasco, attending school in neighboring Mayagüez and playing soccer and other sports all over the west side of Puerto Rico.

Miko and her two brothers’ parents were strict at home, but they always left room for indulging the trio. She remembers being at school with her younger brother and getting called to the principal’s office, where she found her mom signing an exit slip with an expression that hinted at trouble. “Your dad’s waiting for you in the car,” Miko recalls her mom telling them. Later, when they all were in the car, her parents looked at each other with a mischievous smile: “We’re going to the beach! The day is gorgeous!” “They knew someday we’d leave the house, so they wanted to enjoy us while we were there,” she says.

Today, her two brothers are both in medicine, while she’s a globe-trotting artist — a reality that she sees as befitting of their lifelong dynamic. “They’d be the ones getting good grades, and I’d be scraping by,” she says. Yet they’ve always been among her biggest supporters. When Miko was first toying with the idea of getting into music, it was one of her brothers who convinced their mom to trust Miko with her plan. “She’s excelled at everything she’s done,” Miko recalls her brother saying.

Miko’s artistic dreams run deep. As a teenager, she loved writing poems at school, and later majored in drawing when she attended the University of Puerto Rico’s Río Piedras campus. Her time there was short, after budget cuts forced her department to slash credits off her major, prompting her to transfer to the Inter American University in the southwestern town of San Germán.

The same year she transferred there, in 2017, Hurricane Maria slammed Puerto Rico, leaving archipelago-wide power outages that lasted months. In early 2020, the southwestern coast suffered through weekslong earthquakes that forced schools to temporarily close. A few months later, the pandemic hit. Miko felt like she was swimming against the current, a reality shared by many young Puerto Ricans as they try to navigate adulthood in a colony.

While Miko felt like giving up most of the time, her mom asked her to stick with school long enough to at least get a diploma. At the time, Miko’s career as a tattoo artist was taking off, giving her money to fund studio time. “I told myself I’ll get to 10,000 followers on Instagram and then I can go do music for real,” she tells me, as she shows me the Instagram account on her phone. Her last post is dated July 2021. That same month she released “105 Freestyle,” her debut track — kicking off a string of viral hits, including “Puerto Rican Mami” and the Villano Antillano collaboration “Vendetta,” that made her one of the most-talked-about artists on Puerto Rico.

I was born at the right moment. There’s still a lot to do, but I think it’s only going forward.

AS WE DRIVE through Piñones, Miko says she wants some fresh coconut water. Sofia and Kaly quickly spot a small shack along the road and take off to get some for her. Just before they get back in the car, two ATVs drive by blasting Miko’s music. “That’s the first time that’s ever happened to me!” she says.

Later, it’s time for some empanadillas, the greasy street delicacy that can be filled with anything under the culinary sun. (Miko prefers grouper or trunk fish.) She’s trying to have one of those days that brings her back to her childhood at the beach, she tells me, even if actually making it to the beach is harder to pull off these days. “I can do it, but it’ll turn into a meet-and-greet,” she says. I’m reminded of her opening lyrics in “Bi,” where she raps, “Because of my fame, I can’t go out” — and that was two years ago, before she had amassed nearly 7 million followers on Instagram.

When we finally find a spot in Condado, a touristy neighborhood west of Piñones, she finds comfort in seeing the waves from the corner of a beachside restaurant instead of on the shore. “I’m a very independent person,” she says. “So it’s annoying to have to call Kaly and ask her if she can go get gas in my car. If I go to a drive-thru by myself, something can happen. Dumb shit like that is what I miss.”

Miko recently started therapy to cope with the avalanche of changes in her life — playing in front of massive crowds and following a demanding schedule among them. She’s been working through meditation and breathing exercises to calm her mind. She also travels with a team that includes some of her oldest friends: Kaly, whom she first met in college; her manager, Mariana, who quit her job to help Miko realize her artistic dreams; and her photographer, Joshua, who is also her longtime roommate. “The fact that I’m surrounded by them makes things easier,” she says. Playing Mario Kart on the road helps, too. When I ask her what her winning combination on the Nintendo game is, she gets serious: “OK, I’m about to share some codes here. It’s Inkling Girl, the one with pink hair and a motocross bike.”

Though life in the spotlight may have stripped her of some freedoms, it’s also gained her some luxuries close to her heart. Recently, she flew both of her parents first-class to attend her tour-closing concerts in Argentina, and planned a weeklong vacation for them in Buenos Aires, which Miko describes as her biggest achievement of 2023. As for days at the beach, she’s more than happy trading them for boat trips around the coastline of Puerto Rico: “It’s not like I can go to Piñones, but I can go to Palomino and lay on the sand,” she says, naming a small island in the northeast that’s a typical day trip for boaters. “I always manage to find the loopholes.”

Later, we sit down for a meal at San Juan’s Yoko restaurant, a famed Japanese food parlor with a celebrity clientele. Miko takes her time with the menu, a long list of Japanese-Puerto Rican fusion dishes that include pegaítos, a block of fried white rice topped with avocado and tuna that’s one of her favorites.

Miko dreams of visiting Japan, and she often talks about it with Tainy, who’s spent time there. Miko’s love for anime, which she was first drawn to because of her older brother, is woven throughout her work. She recalls bonding with her brothers over Avatar: The Last Airbender: “I am who I am today because I grew up watching that show,” she says. In “Puerto Rican Mami,” she references Asami Sato, a character in the Avatar sequel The Legend of Korra, calling her a “bad bitch.” Last year, Miko incorporated cherry blossom visuals into her shows to simulate a lush Japanese garden. She currently sports gray-blond hair, which, she says, is a reference to the Hunter x Hunter character Killua Zoldyck. “Anime is a world, and it makes me create a world in my project,” she says.

Trap Kitty took listeners on a journey with Riri, a pole dancer working at a strip club in Puerto Rico, largely inspired by one of Miko’s friends of the same name. We hear Riri gossiping backstage with her colleagues, sharing a smoke as they tell anecdotes of when they first had sex, and later taking the stage.

A few weeks after we meet, Miko will surprise fans with the news that her debut album, att., is coming April 5. She’s coy about sharing too many details during our interview, but she does tell me what excites her most about this project:  “I opened my heart like never before.” 

As our conversation winds down, Miko’s team starts talking over the schedule for the next few days. Although she’s planning to pay a visit to her parents in Añasco today — a two-hour-minimum drive away — it’s looking like a short one. After that, she’ll get back to rehearsals for her first-ever Coachella set, something that’s been at the top of her bucket list for years. She just didn’t expect it to happen so fast. She also didn’t think she’d be featured so high on the festival’s lineup — just a line below Lana Del Rey — on her first round, a feat she now shares with fellow urbano heavyweights Karol G, Bad Bunny, and J Balvin.

But before her career explodes even more, Miko is happy spending time at home, where she retains a bit of her past life. She still shares the same roommate and apartment she’s had since moving to “la metro,” as she calls the San Juan area. Her neighbors have seen Miko go from being “Vicky” to being a global phenomenon, and yet they still ask her for help carrying the groceries from the car.

Puerto Rico as a whole feels like a safe haven from the madness of overnight fame. “Puerto Ricans are not star-struck,” she says. “Puerto Rico is a celebrity island.” And it’s true: Where else can you find Bad Bunny in disguise, hanging out at the annual Fiestas de la Calle San Sebastián festival? “I feel very comfortable here,” she adds. If she ever leaves Puerto Rico, New York — a hub that has served as a landing for generations of Puerto Ricans in the diaspora — is on her list.

Miko sips an Old-Fashioned as she cracks jokes with Kaly and Mariana. She’s sitting in the eye of the hurricane, a brief moment of bliss before heading back to the grind of stardom. Yet when I ask her what her future looks like, it sounds a lot more like this ephemeral moment than the hustle she’s constantly chasing. She says she wants to have people like Mariana, Joshua, and Kaly by her side; to keep coming back to Puerto Rico to be with her parents; and to be able to sit down to have a drink in peace.

“I like the woman that I’m becoming more and more,” she says. “I think that’s the biggest achievement in life.”