Industry Waves

The aftermath of the Hot 97 interview hit faster than even Marcus had anticipated. Within hours, his phone wouldn't stop ringing – Rico had to start screening calls from every major label in New York. The song was already being ripped from radio recordings and passed around on mixtapes, a process Marcus remembered from his previous timeline but now experienced from the artist's side.

Sitting in his room that evening, Marcus pulled out his notebook, the pages filled with lyrics written in two distinct styles – one reflecting his current timeline's natural progression, the other incorporating flows and patterns that wouldn't exist for years. His mother had heard the interview during her lunch break at the salon and called him immediately, her voice a mix of pride and concern.

"My son, why didn't you tell me?" she'd asked in Portuguese, emotion making her accent thicker. "All this time, I thought you were just writing in your room..."

"Mãe, I wanted to be sure first," he'd replied, the guilt of his larger secret weighing on him. "I wanted to show you something real, not just promises."

Now, as the sun set over the Bronx, Marcus watched from his window as kids on the corner passed around headphones, listening to recordings of his radio freestyle. He'd been careful to maintain authenticity while pushing boundaries, but the ripples were already larger than expected. His phone buzzed again – a text from Rico.

"Def Jam called. Meeting tomorrow. 2PM."

Marcus closed his eyes, remembering the mistakes countless artists had made in his previous timeline. Record deals in 2003 were both simpler and more treacherous than they would become in the streaming era. He opened his laptop – a luxury his mother had sacrificed to buy him for school – and began typing out terms he would and wouldn't accept.

The next morning, walking into the Def Jam offices with Rico, Marcus felt an odd sense of displacement. The posters on the walls advertised albums that would become classics, but were still new releases in this timeline. He recognized faces in the lobby that would become legendary, now just starting their journeys.

Kevin Liles sat across the conference table, playing Marcus's song through premium speakers. The sound quality was better than the radio rip, revealing production layers Marcus had carefully crafted to hint at future techniques while remaining grounded in current capabilities.

"You produced this yourself?" Liles asked, pausing the track.

"Co-produced with Rico," Marcus answered, staying humble despite knowing exactly how innovative the sound was for 2003. "We wanted to create something that feels both familiar and forward-thinking."

"It's different," Liles nodded. "The way you flipped that Nina Simone sample... people are already trying to figure out how you did it. And your flow patterns – they're not like anything I'm hearing right now."

Marcus leaned forward, channeling the confidence of his future self while maintaining his teenage persona. "That's because I'm not trying to sound like what's happening right now. I'm trying to sound like what's coming next."

The meeting lasted three hours. Marcus watched Rico masterfully navigate the conversation, using industry knowledge that perfectly complemented Marcus's own future insights. When Liles finally pulled out the contract, Marcus was ready.

"Before we look at numbers," Marcus said, "I need to know about creative control. I've got a vision for where I want to take this sound."

Liles raised an eyebrow. "You're sixteen. Most artists your age are happy to get any deal."

"Most artists my age aren't ready to change the game," Marcus replied, letting a hint of his future confidence show through. "I respect Def Jam's legacy – that's why we're here first. But I need to know my music stays my music."

As they discussed terms, Marcus subtly incorporated knowledge from future music industry shifts. He asked about digital rights in ways that made Rico look at him sharply – terms that weren't yet standard in contracts but would become crucial within a few years.

Walking out of the meeting, Rico pulled Marcus aside in the lobby. "How did you know to ask about those streaming clauses?"

"Just thinking ahead," Marcus said carefully. "Music's going digital. Labels need to adapt."

That night, as Marcus worked on new tracks in his bedroom studio, his mother knocked on his door. She held a plate of Brazilian pastéis and a serious expression.

"You're different lately," she said in Portuguese, setting down the plate. "More focused, more... old somehow."

Marcus looked at his mother – younger in this timeline but still carrying the weight of raising a son alone in a foreign country. In his previous life, he'd made it too late to really change her story. This time would be different.

"I just know what I want, Mãe," he said, pulling up a chair for her. "And I know how to get it. Trust me?"

She touched his face, studying him with the intensity only a mother could manage. "You've always been my little prophet," she said, using his childhood nickname that had now become his stage name. "But promise me you won't lose yourself in this dream."

Marcus hugged her, thinking of the future he remembered and the one he was now creating. "I promise, Mãe. Everything I'm doing – it's for our future."

Later that night, working on new music, Marcus crafted lyrics that bridged his two realities:

*"Time is just a circle, we're living through the changes

Building new foundations while the old world rearranges

Got my mother's wisdom and my future self's ambition

Painting tomorrow's pictures with today's composition

They don't understand yet how far ahead I'm seeing

But every move I make is carefully choreographed meaning

This ain't just music, it's a timeline intervention

Breaking all the rules to make a brand new invention"*

As he recorded the verses, Marcus could hear how they would sound both revolutionary for 2003 and foundational for what was to come. Each bar was a careful balance – pushing boundaries while maintaining just enough familiarity to be accepted by current audiences.

The contract from Def Jam arrived the next morning. Rico had already marked it up with suggested changes, but Marcus had his own annotations to add. He knew exactly which clauses would become important in the years to come, which rights would matter most as the industry evolved.

This was more than just launching a music career – it was about reshaping an entire timeline, one song at a time. And somewhere in the back of his mind, Marcus wondered about the butterfly effects he was creating, how each success in this timeline might ripple out to change the future he remembered.