The Acquisition.
Music companies in America are like stars in the sky. Countless.
B17 Boys Music was one of them. Small, tucked away in Burbank, with 30 employees and a handful of copyrights.
"Two million dollars!" the owner declared, slamming his hand on the desk. He thought he could squeeze the rich kid, Zane Blackwood.
Zane leaned back in his chair, unimpressed.
'Two million?' Zane thought, suppressing a laugh. 'Does he think I'm Santa Claus? I don't pay retail. I pay clearance prices.'
"One point five," Zane countered smoothly. "Or I walk. There are a hundred other studios on this street."
Two days later, the sign on the door changed. Golden Sunrise Music. Price: $1.5 million.
"Boss," David whispered, "you were in a hurry. If we waited a week, we could have gotten it for a million."
Zane shook his head. "I don't have a week, David."
Why the rush?
Because on the stage of America's Got Talent, two gold mines were waiting. Eminem and Beyoncé.
They were walking dollar bills. If Zane didn't sign them now, Sony or Warner would snatch them up the moment the first episode aired.
'Make a wedding dress for someone else?' Zane thought, his eyes narrowing. 'Not my style. I found them. I keep them.'
The "Negotiation".
Zane didn't go to the signing himself. He sent Victor, his CEO.
But he gave Victor a special tool: Leverage.
The contracts were placed in front of Eminem and Beyoncé.
"Sign with us," the implied message said. "Or maybe... just maybe... your footage gets lost in the editing room. Maybe you get eliminated next week."
Was it ethical? No. Was it effective? Absolutely.
'Ethics?' Zane mused, sipping his coffee in his office. 'Ethics are for people who can afford to lose. I play to win.'
The Result: Eminem signed. Destiny's Child signed.
"Congratulations," Victor beamed, shaking their hands. "We will make you stars."
Victor called Zane immediately. "Mission accomplished, Boss."
Zane grinned. He did the math in his head. Eminem + Beyoncé = Billions.
"Six years," Zane muttered, looking at the contract terms. "That's enough time to milk the cash cow dry. After that? Let them fight the lawyers."
Zane immediately ordered Victor to hire the best producers money could buy. He had the talent; now he needed the hits.
May 15, 1997. The Premiere.
The TV screen flickered. SpongeBob ended.
The logo flashed: AMERICA'S GOT TALENT.
Millions of Americans sat on their couches, popcorn in hand.
Fox Television Headquarters.
Rogan, the head of Variety, sat in his office, staring at the screen. His assistant, Conkard, sneered.
"Why do we care?" Conkard scoffed. "It's UPN. It's a joke network."
"Shut up, Conkard," Rogan snapped, not looking away. "Arrogance makes you stupid. Look at the numbers. This isn't a joke. This is a threat."
The Show Begins.
Will Smith exploded onto the stage. The theme song, "Sold Out," pumped through the speakers. The energy was infectious.
Then came Eminem.
He grabbed the mic. He stared into the camera with those intense, cold eyes.
"Hi! My name is... Slim Shady!"
Viewers across America dropped their popcorn.
"Oh my God!" a teenager in Ohio shouted. "Is his mouth a machine gun?!"
"He's terrifying," his mom whispered. "But... I can't look away."
One song. That's all it took. Eminem conquered the youth of America in three minutes.
Then came the ventriloquist, mocking David Hasselhoff. The audience roared with laughter. Then the opera singer. Then the weird lady who blinked too much.
It was a circus. It was chaotic. It was perfect.
UPN Control Room.
Donna watched the monitors. Her heart was racing.
Usually, ratings drop after a hit show like SpongeBob. But tonight?
The line on the graph dipped... and then shot back up like a rocket.
"Boss!" Donna shouted into the phone, her voice trembling with excitement. "Viewership is over 15 million. It's climbing!"
Zane, sitting in his office, closed his eyes and smiled.
'We did it,' he thought. 'The bomb has detonated.'
The Next Morning.
The official numbers arrived.
Rating: 2.7%Peak: 3.2%Rank: #1
America's Got Talent wasn't just a hit. It was the Number One Show in America.
Zane looked at the report. He looked at the signed contracts for Eminem and Beyoncé.
"The empire grows," he whispered.
But as he celebrated, a thought crossed his mind.
'Success brings enemies. Fox, NBC, Warner... they are all watching now. And they won't be happy.'
Zane spun his chair around to face the window.
"Let them come," he said to the city. "I'm ready for war."
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