The Future Has a Beat

Lex stepped out of the steaming shower, dragging a towel over his damp hair as he walk to get his phone.

Of course, it's Jason.

He considered ignoring it—just for a minute, long enough to at least put on a shirt—but the way Jason had been hounding him meant this wasn't just another check-in. Lex smirked to himself, tossing the towel over a chair before grabbing the phone.

"Jason," he answered smoothly, voice still edged with post-shower drowsiness. "You realize what time it is?"

"Lex." Jason's voice was electric. "You're gonna wanna hear this."

Lex pinched the bridge of his nose. "If this is about another underground indie film catalog, I swear—"

"It's not." Jason cut him off, practically vibrating through the phone. "This is bigger. I got a list of offers—seven, to be exact. And they're panicked."

Lex frowned slightly, walking across the room to his en-suite bathroom. The sleek black counters gleamed under soft LED lighting, reflecting his still-damp frame as he turned on the faucet.

"Panicked how?" he asked, grabbing his toothbrush.

"They all want in, but no one wants to be the first to move. Some are trying to buy individual songs for a grand each. Others are pushing for full catalogs at twenty-five, maybe sixty K max. No one's going higher yet, but they will once they realize what they're dealing with."

Lex smirked around the toothbrush as he started brushing. Jason talking deals at this hour meant it was serious—but the fact that other buyers were worried? That made it interesting.

Jason continued, oblivious to the fact that Lex was halfway through his nighttime routine. "The problem is, they're all hesitating. They know the second one of them pulls the trigger, the rest are gonna jump, and prices will skyrocket. So they're dancing around it, waiting for someone else to make the first mistake."

Lex spat into the sink, rinsing his mouth before toweling his face dry. He met his own reflection—sharp, calculating. He looked clean enough. That would have to do.

"Alright," he said finally, walking back into the bedroom. "Who's selling?"

Jason hesitated for half a second. "Kade Lunar Sloane's estate."

Lex stopped.

"Lunar?" His voice sharpened, all traces of fatigue evaporating. "As in the guy who ghost-produced for Pharrell and Dre?"

"The very same." Jason's grin was practically audible. "Unreleased collabs, early demos from artists who blew up later. It's all just sitting there, gathering dust."

Lex dropped onto the edge of his bed, fingers tapping absently against the back of his phone. Lunar was a legend—or had been, before he vanished from the industry. If his old catalog was up for grabs and no one had realized its real value yet…

"How cheap?" Lex asked, already knowing the answer was going to be insultingly low.

Jason's voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Estate's selling the whole thing for less than two hundred grand."

Lex exhaled through his nose. "Two hundred tracks for two hundred K?"

Jason laughed softly. "Told you. They don't know what they have. They think it's just old recordings no one cares about. Meanwhile, half of Lunar's beats got resampled into chart-toppers."

Lex's mind was already moving ahead, piecing together the angles. Old hip-hop wasn't just music—it was currency. The genre had bled into everything: film, commercials, luxury brands. A good sample placement could rake in millions. Barnie and the other old-money types at Maddox Holdings were busy sinking funds into properties that would depreciate in a market crash.

Lex was buying legacies for a fraction of the cost.

"Lock it down, Jason. Now."

Jason chuckled. "Already made the call. But you might want to brace yourself. Indie labels caught wind and started sniffing around."

Lex's eyes flicked toward the city skyline beyond his window. Someone was always sniffing.

"I don't care who's sniffing," he said evenly. "I'll buy it out from under them."

Jason let out a low whistle. "Damn, Lex. You've been ruthless lately. I love it."

Lex smirked faintly, lying back against the pillows. "You should. You're getting paid every time I am."

Jason hesitated for half a second, then exhaled through his nose. "You know, this would be a lot easier if you just hired me."

Lex raised a brow, even though Jason couldn't see it. "You are hired."

"No, I mean officially." Jason's voice had that familiar mix of amusement and ambition. "I want a title. Something real. Something that puts me in the room when these deals happen with a budget."

Lex considered it. Jason had been handling these acquisitions for months now, and the truth was, he was damn good at it. He had the instincts, the connections, and—most importantly—the lack of hesitation when it came to pulling the trigger.

Lex smirked to himself, reaching for the glass of water on his nightstand. "Fine. You're Vice President of Roger & Son."

Jason blinked. "Roger & Son?"

"My new music label," Lex said simply, taking a slow sip of water.

Jason let out a short laugh. "You have a label?"

"Elias filed it today," Lex admitted. "Needed a place to finally house these catalogs you'd been bring in."

Jason let out a low, appreciative whistle. "You don't waste time, do you?"

"Not when there's money on the table."

Jason chuckled. "Alright, boss. VP Wilde, reporting for duty. I'll finalize the deal and call you back."

Lex set the glass down, feeling the weight of another well-executed move settle comfortably into place.

"Do that," he said, voice smooth. "And Jason?"

"Yeah?"

"Get some sleep."

Jason snorted. "Right after I make us another couple million."

The call ended.

Lex let the phone rest lightly against his chest, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment. Through the glass windows, the city was still awake—its lights flickering, shifting, breathing.

Barnie and the others thought the future was under concrete.

Lex knew better.

The future had a beat.

And he was about to own it.