music industry eye

Universal Records Meeting

It was late afternoon at the plush Universal Records headquarters in Hollywood, the kind of place where every polished corner and high-rise window screamed money and power. A long table filled the top brass of the company's music division, executives from different departments, and agents who represented the world's biggest artists. The air was thick with the scent of freshly brewed coffee and the hum of a looming decision.

At the head of the table sat Carl Johnson, Universal's Senior Vice President of A&R. He was known for making moves that redefined careers, but today he had a different kind of decision to make: What to do about Tupac Shakur?

"You're telling me that Tupac just walked away from N.W.A?" Carl asked, narrowing his eyes at the young, eager junior executive, Mark Thompson, who had brought the information.

"That's what the gossip rags say," Mark replied, nervously flipping through a stack of papers. "There's photos, rumors, and sources saying that he's done with the group. The fight between him and Jerry Heller… it's real. He's out. He's not even talking to Eazy or Dre anymore."

Carl sat back in his chair, mulling over the information. He'd heard Tupac's name before—he had always been a powerful presence in the West Coast rap scene, with a distinct style that resonated with a young audience. But this? This was a whole new ball game.

"I don't know, Carl," said Lila Simmons, the Vice President of Marketing. She was skeptical. "Tupac's one hell of a talent, but we're talking about a guy who just walked out on a multimillion-dollar group. He could be a liability. What if he's a one-hit wonder? We don't want to throw money at a risk like that."

"I agree," interjected Richard Hayes, the head of A&R. "We're all looking at the short-term gain here. But what happens if he's gone in a year? I've seen it happen too many times with these young artists—they get a big break, a few hits, and then fade out. We can't afford to pour resources into someone who might burn out."

Carl tapped his fingers on the table thoughtfully. "But he's got the talent. We're not talking about another 'rapper' here, we're talking about someone who has potential to become a real voice in the industry. Think about his energy, his rawness. And those photos of him walking out of N.W.A? That's press. That's heat."

Lila raised an eyebrow. "And that heat could work for or against us, Carl. People love a rebel, but they also love a trainwreck. He's a wildcard, and we're talking about a big contract. What's his track record? Does he even have a solo hit?"

Carl sighed, massaging his temples. "Look, I'm not saying we give him a blank check. But we need to approach this carefully. If we sign him, we don't make it a huge deal. We don't throw big money at him right away. We test the waters first."

Richard leaned forward. "That makes sense. We give him a small advance, see how the first project does. If it doesn't take off, we're not out much. But if it does? Well, we've locked in one of the hottest names in rap today."

Carl nodded. "Alright. Let's bring him in, keep the terms tight, but we need to make an offer. We need Tupac, and we need to move fast before someone else does."

Sony executive meeting

Meanwhile, across town, a similar meeting was taking place in a sleek, glass-walled boardroom at Sony Music Entertainment. Like Universal, Sony had their eye on Tupac. Word had spread quickly, and they weren't about to let their competitors sign him without at least trying to land him first.

Jeff Thompson, Sony's Executive VP of A&R, was leading the meeting. He listened intently as his team spoke, each member offering their opinion on whether signing Tupac was worth the investment.

"You've all seen the news, right?" Jeff asked, his voice cutting through the silence. "Tupac leaves N.W.A, walks away from everything. Some of you might see that as a red flag. But I see a diamond in the rough. A lot of artists, they get stuck in the machine. But this guy? He's got heart. He's got the kind of anger, the kind of passion that makes people listen."

Tammy Morris, a Senior Vice President at Sony, raised a concern. "But Jeff, is this a guy we want to take a chance on? What if he walks away from us too? How much are we willing to risk on someone who's just had a big fallout?"

Jeff rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I get it. But that's the thing. The controversy surrounding him? That could be exactly what he needs. Look, we can offer him something solid but conservative at first. Low risk. But I want to be the label that gives him his real shot. If he's the real deal, we need to be there first."

"And if he's not?" Tammy asked.

"Then we've learned our lesson. But we don't lose anything if we keep the offer smart. It's just business. Now, let's work on terms. We keep it low-risk for now, but make sure he knows we want him. And I mean really want him."

The room was quiet for a moment as everyone absorbed what Jeff was saying. Finally, one of the younger executives spoke up.

"Okay, but let's talk about the money. What's our cap? We don't want to blow our budget on a gamble."

Jeff smiled. "We don't throw the kitchen sink at him. We keep it fair. But I want to make sure we get him. Let's make the offer tempting, but not reckless."

Tupac's POV:

Suddenly, his phone rang.

"Ice-T," Tupac answered, his voice hoarse from hours of work.

"Tupac! What's good, man?" Ice-T's voice was warm and friendly, the sound of the studio buzzing in the background. "I've been hearing things, man. People talking. Is it true you left N.W.A?"

Tupac chuckled dryly. "Yeah, it's true. You know how it is. You get tired of the bullshit, and you have to make a move."

Ice-T was quiet for a moment. "I get that. But what happened, bro? You're one of the best in the game. You can't let it end like this."

Tupac took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. "It's more complicated than that, Ice. There were a lot of things building up—trust issues, control issues. It was time for me to walk away. I couldn't keep pretending everything was alright when it wasn't."

Ice-T was silent for a few beats, letting the weight of Tupac's words sink in. "Alright, man. I got you. Listen, I want to help. I'll get you a studio for a month. You can work on your solo stuff. You don't need to rush into anything. Take your time."

Tupac was grateful, though he didn't show it. "Thanks, Ice. I need that. I've been working on something for a while now. I'm close, but I just need the right space to finish it."

"I'm here for you, always," Ice-T replied. "And hey, I'll even help you release a song if you need it. You've helped me in the past, and now it's my turn."

Tupac smiled, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "Thanks, Ice. That means more than you know."

As the night wore on, Tupac continued working in the studio, the beat pulsing through his veins as he poured his heart into his music. The song he was working on had been brewing for two years, ever since he left his house, trying to find the right inspiration. He'd found it now, the words flowing more freely than ever before.

By the time Ice-T arrived at the studio the next day, Tupac was ready. He had crafted something real, something raw. It was a song like no other, encapsulating his pain, his struggle, his triumph.

Ice-T listened intently, sitting back as the last bars of the track played. When the song ended, Ice-T was silent. Then, slowly, tears began to well in his eyes.

"I don't even have words, man," Ice-T said, his voice cracking. "is... This real ?."

Tupac his own eyes hard but understanding. "it not real It in my fantasy it takes me more than two years to write this song.."

To be continue

Author notes

There maybe late chapter because internet issues were our internet Money has finished so I am currently convincing my mom to recharge the internet. Support the story with comments.

End