Early the next morning, sunlight fell on Leon's eyelids through the gap in the curtains.
He got up, kicked away the scattered red wine bottles on the floor unsteadily, and pulled open the curtains, letting the morning light spill on his body to dispel fatigue.
"Damn..."
Last night he discussed Titanic with Beyoncé until 11 PM.
Finally, under JAY-Z's phone bombardment, she left reluctantly.
After a simple wash, Leon took the commercial van driven by Jorge to Lion's Den Media for a brief meeting for the The Rap of America finals live broadcast in a week.
This talent show with a total of 12 episodes delivered a perfect answer sheet with an average of more than 7 million clicks per episode.
Focusing on rap music, streaming exclusive, and various innovative methods gave it epoch-making significance, and even single-handedly stopped the plummeting trend of Netflix's stock price.
Now, whether this program can have a perfect ending is crucial for future development.
In the conference room, Leon sat at the head of the table. To his right, Sean pinched a stack of documents and said: "Our team will enter Yankee Stadium in four days to build the stage. Mr. Scooper requires us to present top-level stage effects. This is the first time in Netflix history to live broadcast a variety show."
"Entering only four days later, isn't it too hasty?" Leon questioned.
The finals live broadcast looks no different from a concert, but the details are much more complicated.
Excluding guests, there are three contestants alone, plus more than ten popular contestants returning, voting sessions, mentor guest performances, hosts dealing with possible emergencies...
Combining all the above factors, a lot of rehearsals must be done in advance.
"There is no way; we have to do this for cost considerations." Sean looked helpless. "Yankee Stadium rent is as high as $1.2 million a day. One more day of lease, and we risk overspending."
Mentioning money, Leon swallowed the words on his lips.
Combining the expenses of the stage team, filming team, costumes and makeup team, dance team, guest and mentor appearance fees, etc., $10 million seems stretched.
Most of the sponsor revenues in the live program belong to Netflix; he can only recover some blood from stage product placement ads.
"Security issues must be paid extra attention to. Many extreme fans on the internet accuse us of playing dirty tricks and fixing the championship for King Von." Sean swallowed his saliva, looking serious. "Considering the audience group of our program are those young people eager for attention, they never consider consequences when their heads get hot. I suggest strengthening security forces."
Purchasing any service in the US requires a fee; there is no free police force to maintain order at the scene.
Especially in recent years, shooting incidents in the US have been high, and perpetrators are increasingly keen on shooting in crowded places.
Earlier this year, a Democratic congresswoman was talking to voters outside a grocery store in Tucson, Arizona, when a gunman suddenly shot at the crowd, killing 6 and injuring 10 on the spot.
In July, a mass shooting occurred inside a crowded skating rink in Grand Prairie, Texas, killing at least 5 people.
Considering that those high nggas can do any curious things, Leon agreed to Sean's suggestion without thinking for long.
In case of a large-scale shooting, as the organizer, he might lose all the billions of net worth he accumulated.
After the meeting adjourned, Leon kept Sean alone. "Is iHeartMedia interested in our offer?"
After JAY-Z offered a purchase price of $60 million for Z100 radio station, he asked Sean to raise it to the same bid. This is like disgusting the opponent at an auction; JAY-Z must increase the bid again to gain an advantage in the competition.
In the end, even if Leon fails to get Z100 radio station as wished, the other party has to acquire it in a way far higher than the market valuation.
Adhering to his consistent strategy for competitors—"Winning or not is not important; if you are unhappy, my goal is achieved."
"iHeartMedia ignored us completely." Sean shook his head and lit a rose-flavored lady's cigarette. "I think Bob didn't want to sell this radio station at all. He would rather mortgage Z100 to the bank and use the loan to get out of the current financial predicament."
"You don't understand that guy at all. Bank loan? He won't do that." Leon knocked on the table, confidence written on his face.
Bob expanded blindly in the past year, investing tens of millions of dollars in Silicon Valley startups, all ending in failure.
Those banknotes eventually ended up in the pockets of top Silicon Valley players like Reid Hoffman.
In addition, his road to entering streaming media was not smooth. Spotify opened the podcast program function; just one app can listen to thousands of podcast programs across the US.
This is a devastating blow to iHeartMedia's streaming business.
Currently, Bob can only fill the holes caused by his decision-making mistakes through continuous financing, and banks cannot do losing business.
If Z100 radio station, currently valued at $50 million, is mortgaged to the bank, it can only loan at most 80% of its own value, plus paying interest.
This money cannot plug iHeartMedia's hole at all.
Based on these considerations, Leon thinks this will be a protracted war, depending on how long Bob can hold on. The only thing he needs to worry about is the wealthy JAY-Z.
"I tell you what to do next. No matter what JAY-Z's next bid is, we only need to offer a price equal to his."
"I understand, BOSS." Sean nodded repeatedly, noting down every sentence in the notebook.
After explaining these, Leon was about to leave. He had the MV shooting for Blinding Lights in the afternoon.
Just walking to the door of the conference room, as if suddenly thinking of something, he turned back. "By the way, I have one more thing to ask you."
"Please instruct, boss!" Sean straightened his lapel and stood at attention, like a soldier waiting for the general's order.
"You said before you dealt with paparazzi?"
"Of course, I know every guy in this city who does this job."
Sean looked proud. It is impossible to survive in the media industry without good relationships with paparazzi.
After being responsible for Lion's Den Media business, he has countless paparazzi resources in his hands, providing information for the gossip section of Vibe magazine at any time.
For many female stars' measurements and period cycles, he knows more accurately than the female stars themselves.
"Very good, find me some professional guys, let them stare at an actress named Rachel." Leon said.
"Rachel?" Sean thought repeatedly in his head, and was even more confused after confirming that the boss was not talking about Rachel Weisz.
He had never heard of such an actress in New York.
"She is just a third-rate actress, playing the mistress in soap operas, acting as a gold digger on dating shows to attract attention..." Leon's expression suddenly darkened. "Find reliable guys to do this, give more money to shut his mouth. It's best not to let others know about this, do you understand what I mean?"
"Understood... I happen to know such a guy." A short and wretched figure flashed in Sean's mind. "This guy even knows what style of underwear every female star prefers. He is like having Harry Potter's invisibility cloak. What's more amazing is that this guy has never been discovered!"
Seeing him talking more and more outrageously, Leon waved his hand to interrupt. With such ability, he would have been recruited by the Pentagon to become America's own James Bond long ago. Could he be willing to be a paparazzi shuttling under celebrities' pants?
"Let that guy you mentioned follow Rachel 24 hours a day. See who she contacts. I need photos, the more the better!"
"Yes, sir! I won't let you down!"
After returning to 413 Fulton Street, after a short lunch break, Leon was woken up by a knock on the door in a groggy state.
"Come in."
Miranda, who replaced Bonnie as an assistant these days, walked in. Obviously, she hadn't adapted to this job yet, always looking timid when facing the boss.
With a height of 1.7 meters (5'7") and ten-centimeter high heels, every detail of her curvy body exuded the passionate charm of a Latin girl.
She was still wearing that ultra-short pencil skirt Phil selected for the reception girls. The looming taillight outline could be peeked without bending over.
Leon's sleepiness was dispelled by half immediately. "You should change into the assistant's uniform."
"I'm very sorry, Mr. Leon! I'm used to this outfit; I will definitely pay attention tomorrow!" Being picked on by the boss on the first day of guest-starring as an assistant, Miranda looked flustered.
"No need, Bonnie should be back in a few days. This outfit suits you very well. Look, I'm not sleepy at all now."
A blush floated on Miranda's face. Stunned for a few seconds before remembering what to say, "Mr. Monroe has arrived."
For the MV shooting of Blinding Lights, he thought of Monroe, the luxury car dealer he met at the UFC dinner.
Three days ago, he finally found the gilded business card that was almost thrown into the trash can from the drawer and proposed the idea of borrowing a car to shoot the MV.
Facing the invitation of a first-line star, Monroe did not hesitate at all, patting his chest stating that as long as Leon wanted, he could turn this MV into a luxury car exhibition not losing to the Dubai royal family.
"Then what are we waiting for? Please ask Mr. Monroe to come in." Leon said.
"Mr. Monroe said he is waiting for you downstairs and wants to give you a surprise."
"Surprise?"
Leon's head was full of question marks. Just downstairs, he met Monroe at the door. The other party greeted him enthusiastically immediately.
"Glad to see you again, Mr. Leon! It's my honor to cooperate with you."
"Me too..." Leon shook hands with the other party perfunctorily. "Just now my assistant said you have a surprise for me?"
Monroe grinned, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes stacking together. "This is definitely a surprise. Only distinguished customers like you can get this treatment."
The more he said so, the more curious Leon became. Seeing that he successfully whetted the target customer's appetite, he bowed and made an invitation gesture. "Please follow me."
Walking out of the company gate, Leon understood what the surprise the other party said was about. Both sides of Fulton Street were parked with various luxury cars—Lamborghini Aventador, Aston Martin Rapide, Ferrari 458 Spider...
The McLaren he test-drove after the UFC dinner was also among them.
Numerous latest luxury cars appeared collectively. Even New York citizens who had seen a lot stopped and gathered around, taking photos while guessing which Wall Street tycoon's collection this was.
Just then Phil also arrived at the company. Seeing this scene, he immediately mixed into the crowd, leaning against a Bugatti Veyron bragging with girls wearing revealing clothes:
"Which girl wants a ride? Pick any car here! Look how perfectly this domineering taillight fits your butt!"
"Oh my God! This old gentleman, do you mean these cars are all yours?" The girls shook their chests and cast admiring glances.
"Of course! More precisely, I made the owner of these cars rich!" Phil's grin reached his ears. "Leave a number, girls. Let me examine tonight who among you has the talent to sit in the passenger seat of this Bugatti!"
Leon walked out of 413 Fulton Street wearing sunglasses. Although the onlookers didn't recognize his identity immediately, seeing the giant sign with the golden lion logo above his head, they immediately had the answer.
Buying so many new sports cars at once indeed fits the arrogant style of Street Jesus.
Monroe pointed to the convoy and said proudly: "You can pick whichever you like. How about that new Bugatti? Only you deserve that car! No, should say only that car deserves you!"
The other party's enthusiasm exceeded Leon's imagination. He just casually mentioned borrowing a car, not expecting Monroe to open a car show directly on the street.
"Thank you for going to such great lengths."
"It's my honor to serve a distinguished guest like you. Even if you are holding a concert in an African primitive tribe, no matter which car you fancy, I will definitely deliver it to you!" The cunning of a businessman flashed in Monroe's eyes.
With Leon's strong performance of dominating the top two of Billboard recently, as long as his company name appears in the new song MV, even for a split second, his efforts today will not be in vain.
Leon strolled around in front of the piled-up luxury cars and soon stopped in front of that 2010 high-performance Bugatti Veyron.
Even if he is not interested in cars, he is not unfamiliar with this top divine car priced over $2.5 million.
Monroe noticed his gaze and took the opportunity to sell. "W16 quad-turbo engine, top speed 434 km/h, zero to sixty in under 3 seconds! This is not a car; it's a land rocket! Just like the speed your works rise on the Billboard chart!"
A round of bragging didn't make Leon show interest. More than $2 million is not a huge sum for him now, but he doesn't want to squander money on sports cars like rappers.
No matter how beautiful the car body or how fierce the engine, it can't withstand the shooting of an AR rifle.
Even if changing cars, sports cars with poor safety are not within his consideration.
But for shooting the Blinding Lights MV, this car is absolutely flawless.
"This is it." Leon pointed to the new Bugatti, his tone plain as if talking about an eighth-hand Corolla.
"No problem!" Monroe rolled his eyes and said with a try-it mentality: "If you like it, you can buy it. I just sold one to JAY-Z last month. I'm not saying the Porsche you drive now is bad, just that you have reached another dimension now..."
Leon had long anticipated that he would use his business brain, but he indeed had the idea of changing cars now. Surrounded by enemies, that Porsche 997 really couldn't give him enough sense of security.
So he took over the conversation and said: "I do have the idea of changing cars recently, but I'm not very interested in sports cars."
Monroe was obviously stunned for two seconds. In his career, he had contacted many celebrities, and no young singer didn't love supercars.
He calmed down immediately, the professional fake smile frozen on his face again. "My business scope is not limited to sports cars; I can meet any of your needs."
"Is there that kind of tough and durable car? Like President Barack's car, capable of withstanding AK strafing and RPG rockets."