Hollywood:Starting out as an MV director

Inside the company was much more spacious than it looked from the outside, with various certificates and medals hanging on the walls of the lobby. It appeared quite professional, although almost every photo featured a scar-faced Black man.

"Is this your boss, Faith?" Ethan asked as he looked around.

"Yes, that's right," Raymond said, greeting a passing Black friend before continuing, "But Dad isn't very involved with the company right now. He's been focusing on his new girlfriend and wants to make her famous."

"Hmm, so Yesan is also part of the company, right?"

"Of course. Yesan used to be Dad's best assistant, and now he handles everything at the company," Raymond said, leading Ethan to an office with Yesan's nameplate. After sending the others away, Raymond pulled out a CD from a drawer and inserted it into the DVD player.

Immediately, Raymond's hip-hop music blared from the speakers, filling Ethan's ears.

Ethan smirked, feeling as if he was being ruthlessly attacked by a hundred ducks mixed with electronic music.

But Raymond seemed to enjoy the music, swaying his body and singing along.

Indeed, creators are often blind to the quality of their own work, not realizing their products are subpar until they fall short of expectations.

"Raymond! Raymond!" After a while, Ethan couldn't stand the noise anymore and called out to the dancing Raymond.

"What's up, bro?"

"If we listen to this much longer, my mom will be waiting for me to come home for dinner," Ethan said, using his mother as an excuse to avoid saying how terrible the song was.

Raymond, however, sympathized with Ethan. "I understand, bro. The most important promises are the ones to our mothers. Let's switch to the next song."

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief. At least Raymond seemed to understand this much, given that growing up in a single-parent family often makes a mother's role crucial.

Moreover, the fighting power of those Black mothers shouldn't be underestimated. Despite the tough, indifferent personas of gang members, once they're home, they often face their mothers' disciplinary actions.

The second song soon began, and Ethan's eyes lit up.

It wasn't because it was particularly good, but because it was much more normal and ordinary compared to the first song.

Raymond's second track was less forceful, with a rough voice accompanied by a softer rhythm, making it sound quite heartfelt. The addition of some subtle electronic elements made it much more bearable.

Although it still had no standout features, at least Ethan's ears weren't suffering.

Of course, the lyrics were still typical hip-hop themes: My girl is hot, my cigarette is burning. My sports car is expensive, and I sleep in a big house every night. I want to make it big, bring my brothers along, thank God, and take out everyone I dislike.

It's the same old story, but asking people with lower cultural levels to write lyrics can be quite a stretch.

After listening to the second song, the two quickly went through the rest of the album. Ethan found that only the earlier song was the best, a treasure among the trash.

"So, what do you think, man? Isn't it awesome, cool, and manly?" Raymond asked with enthusiasm after finishing his energetic performance.

"I think it's great, but personally, I prefer the second song."

"The second song? Eight Hours Later? Well, I thought you'd like the Beast Star track," Raymond said, referring to the ear-splitting first song.

Ethan patted his arm. "They're all good, bro, but you know everyone has different tastes in music."

"True."

"By the way, have you filmed the music videos yet?"

"Not yet, but Yesan is already looking for directors!" Raymond's face lit up with excitement. "Twelve songs, twelve music videos. Wow, I want to get a bunch of beautiful girls and rent some luxury cars to show off my moves."

Ethan scratched his head, wondering why Raymond was so fixated on finding women and why so many people filmed music videos this way. Audiences had long since grown tired of seeing the same old things.

But as an outsider, Ethan couldn't say much. He could only hope Raymond's ideas would succeed.

After leaving Faith Music Company, Ethan went home and rested for half the day.

The next morning, he went to the underground magazine where he worked, planning to shoot a new series of photos. However, the female model suddenly backed out, wanting to cancel.

After talking with the magazine's editor, Ethan learned that the model was new to this kind of explicit content and claimed to be a devout Catholic, tricked into it.

But with the situation already in motion, the editor insisted on keeping her, believing her body would boost sales and refused to let her go.

In the end, Ethan stepped in, providing the model with a half-face mask commonly used at masquerade balls to alleviate her concerns.

This gesture improved her impression of Ethan, and she even flirted with him, wanting to go out for a meal.

However, during the shoot, Ethan was ruthlessly harsh.

His tyrannical demeanor genuinely frightened the model, who even wondered if Ethan was possessed by Satan.

After the shoot, Ethan's comment, "You're the worst model I've ever worked with," broke her down completely. She forgot to take her mask, grabbed her payment, and fled the studio in a panic.

Watching her retreating figure, Ethan cleaned his lens and remarked, "So fragile."

By 4 PM, he rode his bike back to Faith Music Company.

Having met Slo the previous day, he easily got through the iron gate.

Raymond wasn't there today, and neither were his minions. Only the sound engineer was in his studio.

Ethan approached and could hear the intense sounds of collisions coming from inside.

"Tsk." He shook his head and quickly crossed the corner to Yesan's office door.

He suddenly heard loud voices from inside, not of the usual kind, but Yesan's own.

"Listen! I'm fixing this now!"

"Those Los Angeles bastards are mocking us as gorilla rappers, Philly says this album should be released in a zoo, and Chicago says we're tarnishing Black rap! Damn it, it's already Black, what more can we tarnish!"

"New York's radio stations only care about our money! No respect, nothing! They even asked for a higher price than others! They even said if this song plays on their station, it will surely be the cause of a traffic accident peak in New York!"

"I've said it before! Don't go with this style! But neither you nor Raymond listens!"

"So we must control costs! Faith!"

"Ten songs? Not even one!"

"FXXK, three songs! Just three!"

"Who wants to haggle with you!"

Ethan stood at the door until the voices inside ceased, hearing a chair being pushed back by the weight before he knocked.

"Knock, knock, knock!"

"Come in!"