SuperStar!

Bill Miller sat on the edge of the king-sized bed in his room at the penthouse suite, gazing at the phone in his hand. The muted luxury of the room, with its sleek furniture and sprawling city views, was lost on him. His thoughts were consumed by the call he was on with his assistant, Lisa Monroe.

"As I was saying, Lisa, the label really wants Ethan to sign with them," Bill said, his voice tinged with conviction. "I feel this is the best deal we could get in the industry right now. No other label is likely to offer us anything close."

"I understand, sir," Lisa replied, her voice steady but resolute. "But I still think we should reconsider giving up the masters of his songs. Allowing the label to hold those rights might solve our short-term problems, but it could cause huge problems for us in the long run."

Bill sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Lisa, I hear you, but we have to be realistic here," he said, his tone growing solemn.

"Ethan, regardless of his YouTube success, is still a newcomer. Let's not forget that some people attribute his rise to the lockdown surge in online engagement. If we insist on keeping the masters, Universal Music Group won't agree to finance everything—recordings, promotions, distributions. And that's millions of dollars we're talking about, Lisa. Millions we don't have."

Lisa wasn't backing down. "With all due respect, sir, I think you're underestimating Ethan's position. He's not just some random kid anymore. He has 21 million followers on Instagram, 7 million on Twitter, and 5 million subscribers on YouTube. Those are numbers that give us leverage."

"Leverage is only as good as what it can buy," Bill countered, but Lisa pressed on.

"And let's talk finances," she continued. "Ethan has nearly $2 million saved up from his YouTube, Instagram, and Twitter payouts. If we approach him, he might be willing to invest some of that into his promotions. Plus, we could explore other options—private investors, or even renegotiating with the label to fund the costs in exchange for a fair profit split rather than outright ownership."

Bill let out a humorless chuckle. "You're making it sound too simple, Lisa. Ethan's been adamant about saving that money for emergencies. Investors? They're not going to throw money at an artist without an official track to his name. And let's be honest—there's a big gap between a viral YouTube hit and an industry-dominating single. Investors won't ignore that risk We do have examples of songs blowing up on YouTube and failing as an official track."

Lisa began to respond, but Bill cut her off. "As for the label, we're not their first rodeo. Universal isn't going to set a precedent by allowing a newcomer to retain his masters. Most artists in the world don't own their rights. Why would they make an exception for Ethan?"

Lisa sighed. "You might be right, sir, but I still think we're selling ourselves short. And if we try to go independent, I'm sure we can handle the PR challenges."

"PR challenges?" Bill's voice sharpened. "You mean the firestorm that'll come if we reject the label's offer? They'll make Ethan out to be ungrateful or difficult to work with. It won't just be a challenge—it'll be a battle."

"But, sir," Lisa said, her tone lightening to a teasing edge, "aren't you the one who always says, 'There's no such thing as bad publicity, only publicity'?"

Bill chuckled in spite of himself. "Don't throw my own words at me. The world's changed, Lisa. Cancel culture is everywhere, and one wrong move could ruin Ethan's career before it even starts."

"Brittany," Lisa said softly, the name alone enough to send a chill through the conversation.

"Exactly," Bill said grimly. Brittany had been one of his brightest prospects, a young actress with a promising future. But a leaked video of her making careless remarks had spiraled into a social media maelstrom, ending her career almost overnight.

"I get it, sir," Lisa admitted. "I just hope we're making the right decision."

"We are," Bill said, though his tone was more firm than convincing. He stared at the ceiling, as if the answers were etched into its ornate moldings.

"Ethan's not just a client, Lisa. He's... different. We'll figure this out," he added, trying to sound more certain than he felt.

The line went silent as the call ended, but Bill's mind was anything but quiet. He leaned back, his thoughts tangled in a web of possibilities and what-ifs. He'd seen many careers rise and fall, but this time felt different. Ethan wasn't just another talent. He was a phenomenon—and Bill couldn't afford to let him slip through the cracks. ' I hope I am making the right choice' he thought as he went out to look for his client