Before nine o'clock, Central Park is harmonious.
After this time, as couples strolling around and office workers running at night go home one after another, this place shows another scene.
Large numbers of homeless people end their day of begging and return to Central Park with wine bottles.
"Middle-class homeless people" set up simple tents, while those more carefree simply lie down on benches to rest on the spot.
Looking at the night sky with empty eyes, occasionally going crazy for no reason, shouting abuse at passers-by indiscriminately.
"Goddamnit, look at the clothes this chick is wearing; like Audrey Hepburn walking out of Roman Holiday. I bet this outfit is worth thousands of dollars." An old white male homeless man twisted his mouth and said, "I used to jerk off to Hepburn's posters when I was young."
"I bet this chick has a rich dad who owns a spacious office on Wall Street, with a mahogany desk, flirting with the female secretary's butt while thinking about how to squeeze the last coin out of us cattle and horses."
"Looks like this hooligan is about to trick this chick into bed. Hey chick! Remember! Managing your lower body is managing your dad's wallet for him!"
"Hahaha~"
The surrounding homeless people burst into laughter, toasting to the few moments of fun in the day.
Anya had never heard such obscene and straightforward trash talk. Shy and scared, she subconsciously hugged Leon's arm tightly.
In London, even homeless people are a bit more civilized than those in America.
"Don't be afraid." Leon had no mind to bicker with these homeless people, gently putting his arm around Anya's shoulder.
"Let's leave here; I feel it's a bit dangerous."
"Dangerous? Do you mean robbery or something?" Leon smiled and shook his head. "No, they won't do anything. If they had that courage, they wouldn't be here."
He didn't speak too bluntly. Although capitalism is cruel, it reveals a bloody and naked class transition route.
Although 30 states in the US still retain the death penalty, the vast majority of death penalties will not be executed.
Substituted into a game, this is equivalent to a second life. Those ambitious to break through the predicament of the bottom class have long lived another life outside the law like King Von and his brothers and sisters in O-Block.
Thinking so, he looked down at the time on his watch; it was getting late. He drove Anya back to her residence in Tribeca.
Two days later, the news of the release of Old Town Road swept the entertainment section, setting off a super high degree of discussion for this highly controversial style of work.
The top DJs of major music radio stations across the US praised mindlessly in various ways on their programs: "Street Jesus Leon can always bring surprises to music fans. Revolvers, cowboy hats, spurs, folk songs... these elements are the ultimate romance of men. For young people now, Glock pistols, oversized jeans, cultural shirts with huge logos plus rap music are the trend. No one has ever combined them together."
"Every listener familiar with me knows that I am a defender of traditional Southern folk songs. If someone told me before to integrate rap elements into folk songs, I would think that guy was crazy. But this time I don't think so. The greatness of Old Town Road needs no words!"
"Who knows why Street Jesus suddenly released a folk-style work? Is it inspiration given to him by Taylor Swift in bed?"
Under the heavy money bombing of Columbia Records, a work that should have been full of controversy appeared with zero negative reviews in the critical circle—a miraculous scene.
In Tim's office, Leon swayed the swivel chair while listening to the exaggerated performance of the radio DJ, the corners of his mouth almost grinning to his ears.
He casually asked Bonnie: "Have you settled the second stage of the promotion plan with those influencers?"
"Easily done!" Bonnie winked and made an "OK" gesture.
As Leon thought before, Old Town Road became popular on social networks relying on its brisk melody and magically brainwashing lyrics.
Handsome men and beautiful women wearing cowboy hats and twisting their bodies with Old Town Road as background music can be seen everywhere on Blue Bird (Twitter) and Facebook.
This is his promotion plan laid out in advance playing a role: letting Bonnie contact those influential big V influencers to record dancing or gimmick videos at prices ranging from $2,000 to $10,000.
In the field of YouTube fashion bloggers, Bonnie is already a quite influential influencer.
Especially in the underwear section, she claims to be the woman who understands crotch-hugging G-strings best in America.
Only needing to record a video of more than 20 seconds to get rich rewards, her influencer colleagues responded one after another.
In just one morning, videos of shaking butts in crotch-hugging G-strings with Old Town Road as background music spread virally on the internet.
Leon's haters had nowhere to hide, leaving comments like "Can always encounter that street bastard's videos in any corner of the internet. I decided to quit the internet for a while; curse this damn capital!"
"You are a prophet! The streaming media promotion strategy proved to be completely correct!" Tim exclaimed while refreshing social networks: "I guess this song can top the Billboard for three consecutive weeks? If Billboard counts free channels, I have no doubt this song can even complete seven consecutive championships..."
In 2005, the number of streaming media copies was added to the calculation weight of the Billboard Hot 100, completely breaking the gameplay of ranking completely by record sales and radio data in the past.
Six years later today, many industry insiders believe this is the starting point of the complete decline of traditional records.
In recent years, calls for including channels like Spotify and YouTube in Billboard rankings have become louder day by day. Everyone knows that once this matter succeeds, it will herald the arrival of the heyday of streaming music.
But due to the obstruction of the American Federation of Musicians under the pretext of "protecting creators' interests," this policy has not shown signs of landing so far.
"The success of Old Town Road opened the southern market for you. Even those young people who have no feeling for traditional folk songs fell in love with this song. For a long time in the future, I will focus your performances on southern cities, especially big southern cities like Nashville, New Orleans, and Houston." Tim paced back and forth facing the map of the United States on the wall.
New York is Leon's base; his reputation reached its peak here.
Frequent Los Angeles performances plus the previous beef of the "Second East-West Coast Hip Hop War" made him have a large number of loyal fans on the West Coast too.
Only in the relatively conservative southern cities were record sales relatively weak.
"Nashville?" Mentioning this national center of country music, Leon immediately thought of Taylor.
Her tour in New Orleans just ended, and the flight would land in New York in two hours.
Tim saw through Leon's thoughts at a glance and guided down the topic of Nashville and country music. "Your girlfriend has a queen-like reputation in Nashville; she is the Dolly Parton of the new era. If she can appear in your series of tours, you can easily conquer southern listeners."
What he could think of, Leon had thought of long ago. Taylor's traffic boost for him is no less than winning a few more Grammy Awards.
It is a routine operation in the industry for couples to help each other with promotion.
But the problem is that to facilitate such cooperation, relying solely on the mutual affection between two singers is not enough; it mainly depends on the intentions of the record companies and agencies behind them.
"I have no objection; Taylor has no problem either. But I have to tell you Taylor's appearance fee is not low. You have to have a good talk with that guy Scott." Leon pointed out the difficulty directly.
Leon's current pure commercial performance quote averages $300,000 per song, while Taylor's current pure commercial performance average quote exceeds $500,000 per song, depending on the scale of the event and contract details, with limited fluctuation.
Actually, with his relationship with Taylor, the other party could totally perform for free as a friendly gesture, with remuneration paid by rolling in the sheets.
But as long as Scott still controls Taylor, such a thing will never happen.
To enhance the promotional effect of his own singer, spending a higher price to invite another singer to help out—this kind of deal that loses money all the way to Siberia is impossible for Tim to accept.
But the other party's next reaction surprised everyone. He agreed almost without hesitation. "No problem; everything is worth it for the best promotional effect."
"Such words really don't sound like they came out of your mouth..." Leon complained.
"This was instructed by Mr. Stringer; satisfy all your needs."
He had no doubt about this sentence. Just the promotion plan of spending more than $500,000 to invite a group of influencers to shoot dancing videos would be difficult to pass in any record company.
Network channels are not the promotional focus of the current record industry. They are more accustomed to offline or radio, ways where throwing money can receive immediate effects.
But Stringer fully respected his opinion, leading to the current grand occasion of Old Town Road spreading virally on the internet.
"I have to go." Leon glanced at his watch. "I'll tell Taylor about this later. I think Scott won't refuse money."
Saying that, he got up and took Bonnie, Jorge, and others ready to leave Columbia Records.
"Wait." Tim suddenly stopped him. "I have one more thing to talk to you about."
"OK."
"Can Miss Bonnie and this Mexican wrestler gentleman avoid us for a moment?"
"What is so mysterious?" Leon waved his hand to let the two wait outside the door, revealing a confused expression.
"Hehe..." The smile on Tim's face was even more flattering than when listening to the DJ on the radio praising Old Town Road just now. "Actually, it's about Miss Taylor. SB Projects boss Braun, heard he will make a big move recently."
Braun plotting against Taylor is no secret in the circle. With the increasingly heated offensive, it is almost completely public.
He seems no longer satisfied with the full management contract or the master rights of three albums, but set the acquisition target on the entire Big Machine Records company.
According to Entertainment Weekly, he has offered a purchase price of $200 million for this.
Leon didn't understand Tim's intention of discussing this issue and played Tai Chi around the bush. "Whether it's Taylor's management contract or record company contract, these contracts on her have nothing to do with me. I'm just in a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship with her."
"Really? Didn't media break the news that you plan to marry that girl?"
"What are you talking about? Which damn tabloid?" Leon sat up in shock immediately, angry and wanting to laugh.
As the party involved, he didn't even know the news that he was getting married.
"This is not important. I mean, have you never thought about working with Taylor?"
Hearing this, Leon finally fully understood. Columbia Records wants to intercept Taylor from Braun.
If this matter is really done, this company will simultaneously own three divas of the new era music scene: Beyoncé, Adele, and Taylor, leaving all other competitors far behind.
Seeing Leon tilt his head without speaking, Tim took the initiative to induce: "If you can work in the same company with Taylor, think how wonderful it would be. You are both genius singer-songwriters. Recording studio scandals are an inexhaustible traffic gold mine. You can surpass JAY-Z and Beyoncé and become the most successful music couple of the 21st century!"
Although he used the PUA rhetoric tempered in the workplace for half his life, in front of Leon, it was as ridiculous as an elementary school student teaching a professor.
Leon didn't let emotions dominate his brain at all; his heart was full of business.
If he really had the ability to influence this deal, how could it be others' turn to pick peaches.
Taylor's long legs would have been hidden under his desk long ago.
But on second thought, Columbia Records does have an advantage he doesn't possess—dollars.
Backing on those Japanese from Sony, it is enough to confront Braun and the Jewish financers behind him head-on.
If Columbia Records intervenes in this deal, it will definitely increase the difficulty for Braun to acquire Big Machine Records.
And he can take this opportunity to develop wretchedly (secretly/slowly), and finally end the competition between the two predators with the posture of a mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.
Thinking of this, Leon's mouth was about to grin crookedly. Changing his thinking directly led to a huge win.
Before Tim could continue, he directly volunteered to act as a lobbyist. "I seem unable to think of any reason to refuse you. Leave this matter to me. Taylor is a bit willful, but my words carry a lot of weight in her heart."
"Awesome!" Tim didn't expect things to go so smoothly, smiling even more wretchedly than Leon. "I fully believe this point. You possess magic that makes competitors crazy, and the same goes for women!"
"Tell Stringer, I will do my best."
"No... this matter has nothing to do with..." Mentioning Stringer, Tim instantly panicked.
The boss repeatedly instructed not to mention his name when testing Leon's attitude.
This clumsy little trick meant nothing in Leon's eyes.
Without Stringer's instruction, how could Tim, a high-level employee, dare to talk about major decisions involving hundreds of millions of dollars as soon as he opened his mouth.
It can only be the idea of Stringer, the old man suffering from "diva collecting addiction," and the Sony Music Group behind him.
"You don't need to explain. Anyway, I will do this well." Leon said with a serious face.
"I don't know how to thank you..." Tim held his hand and shook it up and down.
The humble posture seemed as if the positions of the two were swapped, as if Leon was the A&R director of this company.
What Tim didn't know was that he thought he had found the lobbyist most likely to facilitate this deal, but actually, it was the dirtiest sht-stirring stick.
This deal is doomed to fail even if it doesn't want to.
After leaving Columbia Records headquarters, Leon was in a great mood. On the way to the airport, he looped his new song while whistling a cowboy whistle rich in western characteristics.
"What makes you so happy?" Bonnie asked curiously, "Tim looked mysterious; I thought nothing good would happen."
Leon clasped his hands behind his head, with a despicable smile of a successful conspiracy on his face. "You seem very proud; did Tim introduce some female singer to you?" Seeing the boss unwilling to say, Bonnie played with the computer and changed the subject. "On October 20th, the live performance of The Rap of America at Yankee Stadium, Eminem still hasn't replied. We don't have much time left; do you want to try inviting other guests?"
"What did he say in the email reply?"
"He didn't reply to the email at all."
"This damn bastard." Leon couldn't help cursing. During the program recording, he tried to invite Eminem to join but was rejected.
Now the live broadcast of the finals is the second invitation, but still rejected by the other party.
"Be patient and wait a little longer. That guy probably fried his brain with drugs. Maybe I will go to Los Angeles recently to talk to Dre face to face."