Chicago 1990

"Does this old woman live in the nineteenth century!?"

The exchange between the two parties broke up, and Song Ya angrily slammed the door and got into the car, "Who does she think she is, Queen of England? What kind of high society? Why doesn't he just buy the magazine and play it for himself, I think she buys it completely. Affordable."

Hayden just tried to listen to the other party’s conditions, but the old woman's words made Song Ya angry. She said that this magazine is equivalent to the pass of the'high society', and Litman has long been qualified, but now he is just paying for it. The price of buying tickets for sex, and Song Ya’s bidding will make this tacit and elegant social activity like a noble award full of copper.

She persuaded Song Ya to retire in case of difficulty, and would not give anything good!

"What about the good manners of the old money? That old woman can't even speak tactfully!" Song Ya cursed.

"There is no need to be euphemistic when there are no others present."

Hayden started the car, "Maybe we really want to make things simple, or should we ask someone from the ‘upper society’ first?"

"Who?"

"Uh... Is Motula counted?"

"Don't, Mariah Carey is crying, he must have no intention of answering my stupid question now."

Song Ya flipped through the address book, found the biggest Quincy Jones phone, and called.

"Hahaha..."

Quincy Jones laughed at his description, "You want to buy American Music Magazine? Why are you so moved?"

"I didn't really want to buy it, so I asked for the price after hearing the news! That's it!" Song Ya said helplessly.

"The readers of that magazine are all...let's call them the upper class. They will definitely subscribe, but they will not necessarily read it. It is absolutely unimaginable for a 16-year-old black hip-hop singer to own the magazine. Ms. Fleming is right, Litman is qualified to buy it, you don’t, if you force a bid, it will only make Litman a little bit more blood and make the scene ugly. For you, you will definitely lose. Offended the tycoons like Litman and offended the readers behind the magazine. Many of them are well-known writers, artists, music critics, film critics and the self-proclaimed old money class. They are also Grammys. , Oscars, Emmy Awards, Tony Award judges..."

Quincy Jones said: "Even if you get your hands, do you have that kind of restraint like Ms. Fleming's for more than two decades to remain relatively objective and not influence the readers behind the magazine? You know they have a lot of energy... "

"Yeah, they are all upper-class society, and in the end they can't even support a niche magazine." Song Ya said quietly.

"Hahaha..."

Quincy Jones laughed wildly. "That's two different things, kid, you will understand later."

"Well, I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, I just said something wrong, I was furious." Song Ya gradually calmed down.

"It's okay. There is a long way to go to improve our status. Many black artists have suffered similar anger, so we have a soul train art award. We have the final say. The white people play while playing, haha..." Quincy Jones laughed: " But it’s a bit too much for Ms. Fleming to talk to you like that. You have to tell her something good."

"She said it's no good..."

"Bullshxt! No such thing, when did the rapper become a good boy? Have you published six of your works?"

"Uh... I count, there are exactly six songs from second-hand shop, to De Klerk, ifeeliting, rememberthename, empirestateofmind, and feelitstill, and there will be a "trumpet" soon."

"That's enough. Let Ms. Fleming help you get the membership of the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences (naras). She can do it. After joining naras, you will also be a judge of the Grammy Awards, just like us." Kun West Jones said: "Is she really not afraid of you bidding? Otherwise, why would she be so anxious to find you."

"I understand, thank you very much, Mr. Jones." Song Ya hung up, "Hayden, when you look back, you will visit Ms. Fleming again alone and tell her..."

The magazine is not available, and it seems not bad to get a Grammy judge...

"Then where are we going now? Back to the hotel?" Hayden asked.

"Hotel..."

Song Yaqian didn't spend it, thinking about buying a house, "Go to Tribeca for a tour, I'll take a look at the environment there."

The Tribeca neighbourhood that appears in the lyrics of empirestateofmind now has nothing that Songya likes. On both sides of the street are buildings of a few years old, usually on the 5th to 10th floors. The storeys on the first floor are relatively high. The floor is used as apartment building for residents.

"Is there a map?"

Hayden found a map of New York from the storage box in the car.

"Let's go around..." Song Ya went around Tribeca, circled a few areas that were barely satisfactory, and handed it to Hayden, "Find a local real estate agent to help me pay attention."

Back at the hotel in the evening, Hayden made several phone calls and didn’t find out what happened to Mariah Carey, but it shouldn’t be a big deal. When Songya went to the rehearsal room the next day, Mariah Carey had already returned to normal, just a little bit Unconcious.

Song Ya asked a few words, but the other party didn’t want to say, he could only give up. Anyway, the rehearsal didn’t need to be in good condition, and the performance of the two did not have dance. They learned how to move when the time comes, and then talked to the pianist and music. The tacit understanding of coordination is achieved by hand training.

The two also acted in a recording studio to record the scene and dialogue of empirestateofmind according to the Taiwanese book set by Sony Columbia. It was also not difficult. They talked and laughed and finished it easily.

"Can you adjust it then? Miss Kelly?"

Before leaving, Song Ya was a little worried about the performance of the awards party.

"Yeah, you should worry more about yourself." Mariah Carey shot back with a strong smile.

"Then we'll see you then."

"Bye~"

There is still some time before the bulletin board awards party, Song Ya plans to return to Chicago first.

Waiting for the flight at the airport, Hayden came over with a tabloid that focuses on entertainment gossip, "Several things happened all at once," he said.

"how?"

Song Ya took the tabloid. The front page was a big head of Janet Jackson, and the headline was a sensational piece of text, ‘It’s set! Jenny Jackson has won Viking Records, and the estimated signing fee is as high as $50 million! ’

"How many!?"

The number of 50 million squeezed Song Ya. It was an estimated number after carefully reading the news text, but the lowest was 32 million dollars. This is definitely the most expensive signing fee in history. This five-year appointment She has become the "most valuable" singer in the world today.

"Poor Daniel, sbk still lost to the rich British hippie, diva dreams are broken." Song Ya was sad for Daniel for a second and turned to the inside page of the newspaper.

‘Atlantic Records singer Lori is causing trouble again! One person was arrested in a street fight with Shangcheng Records interns. ’

"Fxxk!"

Song Ya saw the picture~www.wuxiaspot.com~Muffler' was throwing a fist at a young black man lying on the ground, and the little Lori next to him was bent over and cursed at the other party, ak pulled hard from behind Hold him.

Then in the second picture, the ‘silencer’ was taken to the police car...

Fortunately, Tony is not seen in the picture, he should be reporting to the probation officer in Chicago.

Well, Song Ya guess can also guess that "Muffler" definitely won the second pick last time and became the second unlucky person after Tony.

He had made up his mind that regardless of their business, he didn't bother to call Tony on the phone.

This kind of tabloid is a bit good, with a big picture, and one piece of news takes up one page. He turns another page, ‘the talent is really inherited! Shinco diva Mariah Carey’s sister was discovered, she also has a good singing voice. ’

The picture is a young woman who looks a bit like Mariah Carey. She doesn't know if it was intentional. She has the same fluffy hair, holding a microphone in her hand and singing with her mouth open.

(=)