Going to TW

Morning had come.

"Whew... That should do it."

Having finished packing, I sat on the foldable bed and looked around my old studio.

A ten-square-meter space that was freezing in winter, boiling in summer, and always smelled a bit moldy.

It wasn't much, but thinking of leaving it made my heart oddly heavy.

Understandably so—it was my first studio.

Since then, I had been confined to the tiny, cramped studio inside SY.

I could still vividly remember the joy I felt when I first returned to this place after coming back to the past.

Back then, it was through this very door that Jacques Chevalier, the president of TW, walked in with a bright smile.

"Julien! All ready?"

"Oh! Good morning, sir. Yeah, I didn't have much stuff—it didn't take long."

"Haven't eaten yet, right? Let's grab breakfast first."

We headed to a local restaurant near the studio and ordered two bowls of blood sausage soup before sitting down.

"You feeling okay? Sorry if this schedule feels rushed. I know I'm putting pressure on you right from the start."

Jacques was a deeply considerate person.

Sensing that I had mixed feelings, he tried to offer some reassurance.

I smiled and replied,

"I'm fine. Thanks for being thoughtful."

"I asked them to be extra careful with the computer and equipment, so don't worry.

And Julien—after we eat, there's somewhere I'd like you to come with me."

"Hmm? Where to?"

I gave him a puzzled look, and he responded with a mischievous grin.

"You'll see when we get there."

After we finished eating, we got into Jacques' car and drove off.

Before long, we pulled up to an officetel building across from the TW Entertainment headquarters.

Jacques led the way in naturally, and I just assumed he had to swing by his place before going to the office.

He pressed the elevator button to the 10th floor, and we stopped in front of a unit.

He entered a code, and the front door opened with a beep.

I followed him inside, still not suspecting anything.

The interior was compact but fully furnished.

There was a small kitchen by the entrance, a washing machine tucked under the sink, a bathroom across the hall, and further in—a bed and wall-mounted TV.

Through the window, I could see the TW building clearly.

There was a small desk by the window, a computer, and a few basic instruments neatly arranged.

But this clearly wasn't Jacques' home.

Everything inside sparkled like new, with even the plastic wrappings still on some appliances.

As I looked around in confusion, Jacques turned to me with a grin.

"Ta-da! Your new place, Julien!"

I blinked in shock, my mouth slightly agape.

"Wait... I haven't even signed the contract yet."

Jacques pulled an exaggeratedly hurt face and replied playfully,

"So you're not going to sign it?"

"No, that's not what I meant. It's just... this is all so sudden."

As I fumbled for words, Jacques gently grabbed my shoulders and said firmly,

"Julien, don't feel pressured. This isn't a free gift. I trust my judgment, and I'm investing in your future.

Although... maybe saying it like that makes it even more awkward?"

He laughed lightheartedly at the end. He was truly impossible to dislike.

If someone believed in me this much, I couldn't just sit back.

"Then I'll do my best not to become a failed investment."

I smiled back at him.

After leaving the officetel, we drove back to TW Entertainment.

We parked in the basement and headed to a meeting room.

On the way, Jacques turned his head and spoke casually,

"Our staff can be a bit... free-spirited. They might bombard you with questions."

I chuckled.

"I don't mind at all. And please, feel free to speak informally."

Jacques smiled.

"Ha, really? Then you should do the same with me."

"Alright, bro."

"...Eh, maybe not that far."

"Just joking, sir."

I grinned. Jacques paused for a moment, then burst into laughter.

"Pfft! Hahaha, I think you'll be just fine."

Maybe he was a little worried—I was young and came in under very unusual circumstances.

Talent aside, the world didn't always reward ability alone.

But his slightly relieved expression told me he felt better.

He didn't know I had returned from the future.

To him, I was just a young composer trying to make it in the jungle of the music industry.

But the storms I'd weathered in my previous life were not so easily repeated.

We reached the meeting room, where a few people were already seated.

They stood up and greeted us. Jacques introduced them one by one.

"Julien, this is Émile Laurent, head of the A&R team."

Émile was a big, burly man with thick arm hair and massive hands. He offered a handshake.

"Nice to meet you, Julien. Welcome to TW."

"Thank you, I look forward to working with you."

Up close, the dark circles under his eyes made him look like a panda, but his smile was warm and genuine.

Next, Jacques introduced the chief sound engineer Michel Rousseau, and senior composer Henri Dupont.

"Pleased to meet you, Julien. We're excited to work with you."

"The pleasure is mine."

After greetings, Jacques dismissed everyone except Émile, and pulled a contract over to my side.

"This is your contract, Julien. Take your time reading and sign when you're ready."

Knowing Jacques, I doubted there'd be any shady clauses—but still, I read carefully.

It was even better than the contracts I'd seen from SY.

It wasn't a rookie deal.

Everything I'd requested had been included:

- Personal studio

- High-end equipment

- Freedom to collaborate with artists of my choice

- Housing

The housing part especially surprised me—it was already documented even though I'd only just found out about it today.

I looked up and smiled. Jacques nodded, satisfied.

"Well? Not bad, right? Just sign at the bottom."

Not bad? It was perfect.

I signed immediately.

Jacques beamed and held out his hand.

"Welcome to the family, Julien."

"Thank you. I'll do my best."

Then he pulled me into a big hug.

"I'd throw you a huge welcome party, but the album schedule is too tight. We'll do it after. Sorry!"

He rushed off to a meeting with the distribution company, probably to adjust the release timeline.

That was usually Émile's job, but Jacques seemed to be pitching in.

I followed Émile to my assigned studio.

"This way, Julien. We set up your computer and gear this morning. Just give us a list of VSTs you want, and we'll install them.

We'll also give you a sample site login so you can download what you need."

"Thank you, Émile."

"If you need anything, just message A&R through the internal chat.

We let composers work independently, but the A&R team handles all logistics.

I'd love to explain more, but I've got a backlog. Oh, and your meeting with Pierre is scheduled for this evening.

Until then, rest and prepare."

"Thank you so much for your help."

Émile bowed lightly and rushed off. I opened the door to my new studio.

"Whoa!"

I couldn't help but exclaim as I stepped in.

The door was thick—at least 20 cm—and the room was spacious.

High-quality acoustic leather lined the walls and ceiling, with bass traps in every corner.

My old computer was there, but the peripherals were all brand-new.

My former audio interface and monitors sat packaged in one corner, replaced by the latest equipment.

A digital temperature and humidity meter was mounted on the wall.

"Alright, let's get this baby set up."

It was just past 2 PM.

I wasn't hungry yet, and I had about 4 hours until the meeting.

I sat down at the desk and began installing drivers for the new audio interface.

Setting up is always boring—but it's necessary.

VSTs and sample libraries would become powerful weapons for me later.

Tedious, but worth it.

Staring blankly at a loading bar, I got lost in thought.

TW was different than I'd remembered.

It was smaller than SY, but the team was close-knit, and Jacques was clearly a leader who listened.

In my previous life, by the time I quit SY, Jacques had grown TW into a rival.

He was known for his passion, boldness, and relentless drive.

But even bold men have scars.

What pushed him to be so urgent?

I'd find out soon enough.

And if things turned bad?

I won't let it.

This was my new domain now.

Just this room alone showed how much TW valued their artists' workspace.

And if anyone tried to ruin it—I'd show them the full wrath of nature.

Once setup was done, I launched my DAW and played some test sounds.

The clarity was unreal. The new 7-inch speakers blew me away.

The dynamic range made everything so crisp and rich.

"Damn, this sound is insane."

My hands drifted instinctively toward the keyboard...