Chapter 11: The Agent

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Ally. As long as Little Lowry doesn't agree, as long as he says 'no,' that's it. Everything stops right there. You can't bother him anymore. Do whatever you want with this crappy song!" 

The next day, after listening to the demo, Tony pulled the cassette out of the tape player in the moving Toyota Eagle and casually tossed it back to Song Ya.

"Fine, I'll just figure out a way to release the single myself then."

The downside of telling Tony too much is exactly this. Song Ya had initially hoped for a win-win situation, but now he was being viewed as an opportunist. Of course, saying he would release the single himself was just a threat. In this era, attempting to debut purely with a single would be a long and difficult path. Just getting major DJs from various music stations to promote the song would require either connections, background, or financial power. Forgetting about the quality of the music itself, the singer's ability to network and push their own agenda would need to be spot-on.

"Cool."

The driver, 'Silencer,' muttered a single word, parking the car outside an office building. The composer's association office was inside.

"So expensive..."

Song Ya grimaced at the price on the coin-operated timer beside the car, tossing a few coins in. Unable to help himself, he grumbled, "I told you, I can just come alone."

"That's not happening. I need to keep an eye on you."

Entering the building, Tony glanced around, impressed. "This place is really 'white'!"

Indeed, the area was dominated by affluent white people. This was the real Chicago, a global hub for academia, arts, law, finance, business, and media—a city known for its skyscrapers. Men and women in suits and business attire hurried past, and the pace of life was completely different from the South Side.

At the elevator, a young white woman saw the three of them and instinctively took a few steps away. She adjusted her bag, shifting from their near side to the far side.

"NAZI!" Tony muttered under his breath.

As the elevator doors opened, they entered, and the woman stayed behind, looking down at her feet as if there was a flower there.

Song Ya could feel Tony's anger building up, so he quickly pressed the elevator button to close the door.

"Look! It's already the last decade of the 20th century, and white people are still like this! They assassinated Dr. King, and locked up Area 51..." Tony began another long rant about racial discrimination and white conspiracy theories.

Song Ya had grown used to this. Whenever Tony went off, his brain automatically filtered out his words. His current goal was simple—maximize the potential of his "cheat" and improve his life as quickly as possible.

The registration process was easy: pay, leave your name and contact details, and place the cassette and sheet music in the envelope provided by the composer's association. Done. Song Ya double-checked the details provided by Goodman, confirming everything was accurate. While this registration didn't deal with copyright, the timestamp and details would serve as strong evidence if a copyright dispute arose later, providing good protection for him.

"Looks like you're serious about this..."

Tony, who had been watching Song Ya methodically complete the registration process, had started to ease up on his suspicions.

"Of course. The money Aunt Succi gave me is almost spent." Song Ya retorted.

The three of them left, and 'Silencer' drove them straight to Little Lowry's apartment.

Though Lowry was into rap, he wasn't from the ghetto. His high-rise apartment was slightly dated, but it was well-secured with access control and property management.

They were escorted upstairs, and AK was already waiting at the door. After a typical greeting, he welcomed them in.

The living room was spacious and furnished with classical-style carpets.

Little Lowry was lounging lazily on the couch, holding a guitar in his arms, looking clearly displeased. "Hey, APLUS! Come on! Show us your music!" He waved at Song Ya with a mocking tone.

"Uh, okay."

Song Ya took the demo cassette and sheet music from his bag, and AK smiled as he took them from him. "Take a seat." He gestured toward the sofa and then threw the sheet music to Lowry while putting the cassette into the dual-cassette recorder.

"Hey." Tony, seemingly unaffected by the awkward atmosphere, sprang up to sit next to Lowry, extending a fist and smiling warmly. "Thanks for giving Ally this chance, bro."

Lowry smiled helplessly, bumped fists with him, and didn't say anything. He just gestured toward the recorder.

This type of dual-cassette recorder was a favorite among African Americans, typically carried to the basketball court or parties. After a bit of static, Song Ya's young voice started to sing. The song from the second-hand store wasn't long—just over three minutes. Soon, only the faint sound of the tape spinning was left.

AK switched off the recorder.

Tony nervously watched Lowry's face for any reaction.

Song Ya's attention, however, was on someone else—the agent. The moment the song started playing, the agent had come out of the inner room, standing in the corner with his arms crossed, listening intently. This was something Tony had insisted on: if Lowry said 'no,' they were to walk away immediately. But in exchange, the agent had to be present. Because Lowry might be kept in the dark about the likely failure of the new album, and this agent, who had once declared, "We're finished," was certainly well aware of their current situation. But people of his age didn't easily let their true thoughts show, maintaining a serious expression and a stiff demeanor throughout.

"Hmm..."

Lowry thought for a moment, the sheet music in his hands. He had been listening to the song while looking at the sheet music. Due to the conditions, Song Ya recorded the song without accompaniment, with only the mechanical ticking of a metronome in the background. Tony wasn't impressed, but Lowry, with his musical knowledge, could definitely discern more.

"Drums and saxophone?" Lowry didn't say 'no.'

"Yes." Song Ya sighed with relief, pointing to the sheet music. "There are other instruments used later."

"I know, I know..."

Lowry muttered as he flipped through the sheet music several times. "The lyrics are interesting..." He tapped his hand, humming a couple of lines.

"This is what Ally came up with when he was shopping at a second-hand store. It was on the day we shot the MV, haha, this little smartass," Tony explained for Song Ya. "How's it sound? Not bad, huh?"

"Very well done." Lowry raised an eyebrow at Song Ya.

"Really?"

Tony beamed. "I told you, this kid's got something. He's the lead trumpeter in our school band, the teachers love him, and the equipment we used to record this song was borrowed from the teachers! He's really invested in this song. Guess what? Before we came here, we went to get this song registered..." Tony turned back to Song Ya.

"My god, please just shut up..." Song Ya thought to himself, but couldn't avoid answering. "Registration."

"Right, right, registration!" Tony couldn't stop once he started talking. "You wouldn't believe it, we ran into this white girl when we were waiting for the elevator. She saw us..."

He mimicked the woman's awkward stance, shifting her bag from one shoulder to the other. "It was like she saw a bunch of thieves..."

"Wow… registration..."

Lowry chuckled and passed the sheet music to AK, then flopped back down.

"Racism! This is racism! It's NAZI! Seeing an N-word, and thinking of a thief..." Tony kept going.

AK flipped through the sheet music, then said, "I think this song isn't quite right for you, Lowry..."

"Why?" Tony fell silent, looking at AK.

"Uh..."

AK paused for a long time before continuing, "The song is about buying second-hand clothes and stuff, right? But Lowry, your image is more about being cool, handsome, young, and stylish. If you're singing about the fun of buying second-hand goods so flamboyantly... do you think... maybe the young girls... you get what I mean?"

"Hey, AK, you..." Tony wanted to snap at AK but couldn't find the energy. He turned back to Lowry. "Lowry, what do you think?"

"Hmm..."

Lowry shrugged. "On professional matters, I respect AK's opinion."

"Okay... fine." Tony's face darkened.

AK took the cassette and sheet music, handing them back to Song Ya.

"Thanks." Song Ya smiled at him, feeling much clearer-headed than Tony. There was nothing more to say. It seemed like he'd need to find another way.

"Uh... wait a minute."

The agent, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up. "Ally, right?"

"Yes." Song Ya nodded.

"Tony said you're a trumpet player, but this sheet music uses saxophone and drums? Why don't you... why don't you play the trumpet instead of the sax for us? Right here, we've got a trumpet. And the drums..." He paused for a moment, then snapped his fingers at AK. "Go get the trumpet from the room, and bring the African drums too."