This Cola Hits Hard

"High school and college students across the country are on Spring Break, so what's wrong with me wanting a few days of rest? Why are you asking even more questions than Rick?" Taylor muttered in the restaurant, fully disguised in a baseball cap and layers of gear.

"The others are already preparing to head back to Nashville, but Taylor suddenly said she wanted to come over, so I tagged along with her to Miami to see your performance," Abigail added from the side.

"I'm not here to see your performance; it just happened to be on the way. By the way, that dance track sounded pretty good. I have to admit, your talent in this area is far superior to your country music," Taylor raised an eyebrow, offering an objective assessment of Ryan.

Ryan then brought up his recent negotiation with Deadmau5, expressing his dissatisfaction with the highly unfair revenue split.

"40%? It's already quite an achievement that you managed to make the record label back down. Deadmau5 wasn't wrong about one thing: that really is industry standard," Taylor confirmed.

"What about the record contract you signed with Big Machine?" Ryan asked next.

Taylor shook her head. "Sorry, I can't disclose the specific terms of the contract."

Ryan then mentioned that he planned to attend several breakout sessions at the Winter Music Conference tomorrow to chat with staff from the A&R (artist and repertoire) departments of various record labels.

This department is responsible for discovering and training singers or artists, signing contracts, and finding suitable songwriters and producers for them; it serves as the bridge between record labels and newcomers.

However, considering the so-called "industry standard," Ryan didn't hold high expectations for tomorrow's interactions.

Abigail then brought up their plans for later: "Taylor came to Miami last year, so she wants to go somewhere different this time."

"How about heading to the Redneck Mud Park in Punta Gorda? They're hosting a Trucks Gone Wild event in two days," Ryan suggested.

Punta Gorda is a small town in Florida, and every year the Trucks Gone Wild event attracts plenty of Southern rednecks. Big-foot modified trucks rolling in the mud, paired with Southern redneck girls in bikinis and the barbecue that rednecks love most—it's an authentic redneck experience.

However, while such an activity might appeal to guys, it wasn't necessarily a draw for girls.

But since the two couldn't think of a better place to go, they reluctantly agreed.

"As for me, I have to head back to school after the Winter Music Conference," Ryan said, stating his future plans. He had to return to class, otherwise, Trey would surely be angry.

"Does such simple homework really require you to be so diligent? Just have Abigail help you tutor later," Taylor said immediately.

"Yeah, Ryan, if you aren't there, are you expecting us two girls to drive the big-foot trucks ourselves?" Abigail also strongly insisted that Ryan stay.

Unable to resist the enthusiastic invitations from the two girls, Ryan ultimately chose to agree.

"What about tomorrow, then? Do you have any plans?" Ryan asked.

Abigail expressed that she wanted to stay with Ryan. Taylor, who had originally been excited about exploring Miami, realized she would be on her own and had no choice but to accompany Ryan.

That night, the three stayed at the Biscayne Bay Marriott Hotel next to Bayfront Park, and the night passed without incident.

The next morning, Ryan and the two girls entered the main venue with the invitations provided by Deadmau5. It felt like an exhibition for an electronic music festival, featuring not only booths from various DJ equipment manufacturers but also displays of cutting-edge VJ technology. Of course, it also included a host of independent European labels in the EDM scene. Ryan hadn't heard of many of the names, but the staff in the A&R departments recognized him.

In just one night, Ryan's performance on the main stage had been noted by those with a keen eye.

But as Ryan had anticipated, while the various independent labels seemed to offer many attractive perks—such as providing various types of artist-related training—they were essentially variations of an advance payment. The cost was always borne by the artist, and the terms involving core interests were quite harsh.

After spending the afternoon interacting with numerous A&R staff members, Ryan became increasingly hopeless about signing a deal.

"But you have to choose one eventually," Taylor said while sitting in the lounge area, holding a large cup of iced drink. At this moment, she was fully equipped with a hat, glasses, and a mask, terrified of being recognized, though she was only moderately famous at the time—perhaps a bit of an overreaction.

"Didn't you choose not to sign with anyone back then?" Ryan sat down and said subconsciously.

Taylor hadn't chosen to continue her partnership with RCA four years ago.

"My situation is different from yours... My dad had been negotiating with RCA for a while and had asked many friends, and in the end, it was my manager at the time who contacted Scott," Taylor explained.

Unlike the widely circulated version where "Scott met Taylor performing at the Bluebird Cafe and was stunned by her talent," the reality was that Taylor's side had already been in contact with Scott before that performance.

Judging by Taylor's tone, her father seemed to have quite a bit of influence.

"Besides, I felt that I shouldn't wait any longer. I had confidence in myself to create songs that would attract people," Taylor said, recalling her thoughts at the time.

"That's right, I have confidence in myself, too," Ryan said slowly.

Rather than calling it confidence, it was more like relying on "déjà vu." For Ryan, the key to fame lay in this déjà vu. If it only happened once, it wouldn't matter which company he signed with. Conversely, if it continued to provide him with legendary songs, he wouldn't need to look at any record label's face.

It was a plain, unremarkable sentence, but it made Taylor, sitting beside him, suddenly freeze. She subconsciously looked up, and from this angle, she could just catch a glimpse of Ryan's profile.

Taylor suddenly felt that Ryan was just like herself a few years ago; there was an inexplicably familiar feeling.

Abigail returned at this moment, holding two "dirty" hot dogs.

"What are you two chatting about sitting here?" Abigail looked at her best friend with a wary expression.

"Chatting about those soul-sucking record labels!" Taylor took the hot dog and immediately wiped off the colorful, messy sauces that made it look so "dirty."

"This stuff will turn me into a fatty." Taylor pulled down one side of her mask and, to avoid getting lipstick on the food, took a small bite of the large sausage—which had been grilled to a brown, sizzling crisp—with a "grimacing" expression.

"It's so delicious." Taylor jumped with excitement, yet she still pinched the sausage out with her fingers and placed it on Ryan's hot dog.

"But I really can't indulge," she said, shaking her head with a mournful face.

Seeing this, Abigail frowned. "You're almost becoming Slender Man."

Then, seeing Ryan chewing the sausage Taylor had bitten without a care, her mood soured even further, and she squeezed directly between Ryan and Taylor to sit down.

Escaping the scene of the Winter Music Conference, the three returned to the main stage in the evening. The two-day ULTRA Music Festival had eight stages and over 140 DJs in attendance. Currently performing on the main stage was a British DJ named Calvin Harris.

The crowd around them was even smaller than the day before, and the atmosphere wasn't particularly lively. The three then headed to the indoor stage, "Carl Cox & Friends," to watch a live performance by the French DJ David Guetta.

Neither of them left a deep impression on Ryan. Taylor, however, was quite excited, dancing until she was covered in sweat.

Soon, Ryan could clearly feel the tide of people gathering toward the main stage. He learned from others that the person about to perform was Armin van Buuren, commonly known as Armin. Like Tiesto, he also hailed from the EDM powerhouse of the Netherlands and had been the world's number one DJ last year.

Since his debut, Armin has been remembered for his signature Trance music, a genre that combines the intense rhythms of Techno with the catchy melodies of House, making it a style that draws from the best of the electronic music world.

As the name suggests, Trance music might even have a certain hallucinogenic effect.

Not long after arriving in front of the main stage, the sky turned completely dark, and Ryan and his two companions noticed people around them pulling out Molly and tossing it straight into their mouths, immediately beginning to sway in self-oblivion; others were laughing hysterically after using inhalants, and further away, some stood suddenly still like wooden stakes, looking like zombies... Clearly, as the music grew more surging, this crowd of spectators was one by one "breaking their seals."

Ryan broke into a cold sweat for Armin, who was standing on stage. He led the other two away, but as soon as they stepped out of the crowd, they bumped into a group of eccentrics in bizarre costumes, and Ryan realized they had gone the wrong way and stumbled into the "Tent Area."

Not far away, a brown-skinned person wearing a women's bikini but sporting a thick gray beard—a "Walmart bag" of a person—walked quickly toward them and casually picked up the drinks sitting on a table.

"Try this Happy Water, you'll have an extraordinary night!" This person handed two drinks to Ryan and Taylor respectively.

Ryan shook his head repeatedly and took two steps back.

"Hiccup!" Taylor set the cup down at that moment and let out a bubbly burp; she was indeed quite thirsty.

"This cola really hits the head." Seeing Ryan and Abigail staring at her with expressions as if they had seen a ghost, she grinned foolishly.