Participating in the MV Again

A few days later, Hayden finally drove his car to the front of the house.

Song Ya climbed out of bed while yawning, glancing at the alarm clock: 4:00 AM.

Al, with his bushy beard and afro, was wearing headphones and using a pillow to cushion his backside. The small television was turned toward the other side of the bed, blocked by a poster to keep the light down; the only sound in the room was the faint clicking of a controller.

Sigh, how did a hip-hop singer turn into such a gaming shut-in?

Song Ya shook his head helplessly.

Previously, Pablo had been willing to take the initiative to pull Al back, but after the collaboration with SBK, that path was completely severed. SBK's strategy was to lead with singles, and since there was no place for Al in Thrift Shop, Pablo wouldn't be pulling him back to split the money.

Having played a good hand into such a mess, Song Ya's sympathy for him had long since vanished. He had been unable to sleep well for over a month because of this, and his current state was only the result of several stern confrontations. Even when Aunt Susie stepped in to kick him out, he wouldn't budge; a black Buddy who decides to be a deadbeat is truly invincible.

Fortunately, he would be rid of this guy once he moved.

After washing up, dressing, and heading downstairs, Hayden was sitting at the table eating the scrambled eggs Aunt Susie had made, with a stack of documents and a pager on the table.

Song Ya picked up the pager. It was the vertical type with a display screen and a plastic clip on the back. He hooked it onto his waist to test it; although many people wore it that way, he inexplicably felt it looked tacky. When he tried stuffing it into his pocket, it felt too bulky, so he just tossed it into his bag.

He took the scrambled eggs from Aunt Susie and looked over the documents while he ate.

Between the pager number and the shopping receipts, he calculated the total and wrote a check directly, placing it in front of Hayden.

Next were the sales statistics for Joe Music. Over the past month, the album by Lowry II had sold over 68,000 copies, and his share of the royalties came to just over 3,000. The check from Joe Music was attached to the back. Future distribution of the album would fall under SBK, so Joe Music would no longer be responsible for sales. He tucked the check away and signed another one for one-tenth of the amount to pay Hayden his commission, saying, "These sales aren't bad. In a year or two, it should reach 100,000 to 200,000 copies."

Hayden shook his head. "Too little. According to SBK, Joe made two fatal mistakes. First, the promotion didn't keep up, which meant the album failed to build momentum. Today's listeners chase trends; if the songs aren't popular, they naturally assume they aren't good and stop buying. Second, the distribution was too conservative, and since it was only released on cassette, many people who were reached by the promotion couldn't find the record, so they simply chose to dub it. Since cassette dubbing is convenient, this further caused the loss of future buyers."

"That's why we chose SBK, isn't it?" Song Ya continued to process the next items—not documents, but two color photos. One was a photo of him shaking hands with Underwood, and the other was with Michelle.

"I asked the reporters on-site for these. They came out well; you're very photogenic." Hayden teased, "Want to find two frames and hang them up?"

"Forget it." Song Ya set the photos aside. "They aren't exactly big shots, are they? It would be embarrassing if Underwood didn't get elected as a federal congressman."

"Whether they are big shots depends on your own level," Hayden said.

Song Ya thought about it and realized it made sense. He brought down a book he was currently reading from upstairs and tucked the two photos inside.

"The Japs can say no..."

Hayden saw the book cover. "Sony bought Columbia's film and music divisions, Panasonic bought MCA Records, Mitsubishi bought Rockefeller Center. Look at the cars on the road now; maybe in a few years, we'll all be working for the Japs."

Song Ya shrugged. Speaking of cars, the eight-year-old Ford pickup he had just bought had been broken by Connie and was still stalled out front. A century of Ford, ruined by... Connie.

Speaking of Connie, she lazily carried a still-groggy Emily downstairs.

The last few documents were the familiar portrait release forms. The reason they were up so early was that they had to shoot another music video, naturally for Thrift Shop.

"The SBK producer said the director wants to use the light at sunrise. We're running out of time. The professional makeup artists they hired are very slow with the girls. This is a big production; I heard it will be broadcast on MTV."

Hearing Hayden's words, Connie bolted out the door with Emily in her arms and dove into the front seat of the Dodge Dynasty.

"Aren't you two eating breakfast? Bitches!" Aunt Susie shouted, warming up her voice for the morning.

"Let's go, too."

Song Ya stuffed the scrambled eggs into his mouth all at once and headed out with Hayden. The car drove through a few streets and stopped in front of Allie's house, honking a few times.

Before long, Allie climbed down through a second-story window and ran to the car like a thief.

"Honey."

As soon as she sat in the car, she kept thanking Song Ya. "Thank you, you're so good."

Connie and Emily in the front seat rolled their eyes in unison.

"Small thing." Song Ya put his arms around Allie, who was like a little animal. His feelings were complicated; helping her get some screen time in the music video would make him feel less guilty when he broke up with her later. Emmm... but since they were still boyfriend and girlfriend for now... He glanced at the front seat.

The shooting location wasn't the thrift store where he had received his epiphany. Joe said that place didn't belong to the Hell Bobcat's territory, and an accident might occur during the shoot, especially since the gangs were currently at daggers drawn with a major conflict looming.

The Hell Bobcat's territory wasn't large, and soon, the car arrived at the destination.

This thrift store was much smaller and older than the one where he had his epiphany. A bunch of cars and equipment were parked at the entrance, and many staff members were busy working. Song Ya handed the three signed portrait release forms to the crew in charge and took Connie, Emily, and Allie to the makeup trailer. He easily recognized many familiar faces from the last music video shoot. "Didn't you say this was a big production? Why is it the same as last time?" he asked Hayden.

"It's going to take three days. This director is quite well-known in Chicago, and big productions record a lot of footage first, then edit it into a three-minute music video. Who knows if you'll actually be visible," Hayden replied.

To make up for the time lost by Joe, SBK acted very quickly. The decision for this music video hadn't been discussed with Song Ya first, but that was normal; songwriters generally didn't get involved in these things. The fact that they were willing to look after the old connections of the Joe Music group was already quite good.

Song Ya originally had a complete music video in his mind, but he felt the style of that video didn't quite match the mainstream trends of this era. Besides, he had never learned how to write scripts or storyboards. He had the goods in his head but couldn't express them, so he decided to let it go.

The two walked to a warehouse behind the store, which had been converted into two temporary VIP makeup rooms. Little Lowry and Joe each occupied one. Their people were clearly separated at the doors, and a few real gang members wearing bandanas were smoking in the distance to keep order and prevent any accidents.

"Hey, APLUS!" AK waved repeatedly when he saw Song Ya. "Come over, come over! Give us your opinion too."

"What opinion?" Song Ya walked over and saw Tony, AK, and the others gathered in a circle, chattering about a piece of paper in Pablo's hand.

"SBK got us a performance opportunity at the Bulls' home court during the playoffs, but we can only perform once. Which game do you choose?" Pablo was in a very good mood today, probably because the series of high-end, classy operations after SBK took over had gradually eased his worries. "APLUS?" He handed the paper to Song Ya; it turned out to be a schedule.

"I haven't studied this." Since transmigrating, Song Ya had been a top student writing lyrics and songs while preparing for speeches; how could he have the energy to care about the NBA?

"Ignore him, he's a basketball illiterate," Tony blustered. "If it were me, I'd choose the first game of the playoffs. It's a sure thing!"

"Idiot, the earlier the performance, the lower the attention. At least the Eastern Conference Finals!" AK expressed his opposition.

"Can we make it? Last year..." Tony sounded a bit unsure.

"Phil Jackson is doing a good job this year. Besides, we have Jordan. The only team in the East that can stop him is the Pistons. Perfect, we'll meet the Pistons in the Eastern Conference Finals."

"Phil Jackson is a rookie..."

While the two were arguing, Little Lowry, who hadn't finished his makeup, rushed out. "The Finals! The Finals!" He shouted loudly like a child. "I only want the Finals!"

"Alright then."

Pablo was almost doting on Little Lowry, having abandoned Al, Old Morgan, and the chance to sign with Song Ya for his sake. "Then let's..." His pen hovered over the schedule, hesitating for a moment. "Let's go with the first home game of the Finals. To be safe."