Robbie's impromptu reaction caught everyone off guard, successfully turning a potential farce into a live confession.
A wave of cheers and applause erupted at the scene.
She bowed deeply to the audience, and before leaving the stage, didn't forget to shoot a death stare at Leon in the distance.
"Looks like your girlfriend has adapted well to this fame game," Beyoncé remarked with a smile, having watched everything unfold.
Leon could finally breathe a sigh of relief. Robbie was a genuine "gap moe" girl (someone with contrasting personality traits).
On the surface, she was a sweet and delicious blonde sweetheart, but inside lived a wild and quirky soul.
Just now, when Quincy Jones was presenting the award to his disciple Spalding, Leon had quietly sent a message to Beyoncé.
The two sneaked to the corner of the venue behind their respective partners' backs, looking like they were having an affair.
After some flirtatious banter, Leon revealed his fangs. "Miss Beyoncé, are you familiar with Mr. Quincy Jones sitting next to you?"
Quincy's wheelchair was in the first row, about five meters away from Beyoncé.
Leon worried that approaching him rashly would make his purpose seem too strong, and he wouldn't gain any advantage from this old fox.
With Beyoncé's current status in the entertainment industry, if Jones weren't in a wheelchair, he would have had to stand up to toast her.
Letting her make the introduction was undoubtedly the best choice.
"Of course. I'm surprised you know Mr. Jones," Beyoncé said with a surprised expression. "Speaking of which, you probably weren't even born when Jones became popular in this record industry..."
Leon didn't show a hint of unnaturalness and casually made something up:
"I have great respect for this legendary figure who won 28 Grammy Awards. Every young singer should remember the contributions of these old artists."
Beyoncé showed a motherly, loving smile.
She had always believed that Leon's villain image was the result of Roc Nation's hype and paid trolls' smearing.
The vast majority of gifted singers were controversial figures in their youth.
She poked Leon's chest with her finger. "You really are a humble good boy..."
By now, the awards process was halfway through. The Best Female Pop Vocal Performance award fell into Lady Gaga's hands again without suspense.
In the Best Male Pop Vocal Performance category, Bruno Mars, who had given a car to Leon at the casino, successfully took the crown.
His biggest opponent was the late King of Pop, MJ, with the commemorative album This Is It released after his fall.
"The nominees for Best Rock Album of the Year are Muse's The Resistance, Neil Young's Le Noise..."
"And Leon Smith's Demons."
Presenter Jennifer Lopez took the envelope from the host and tore it open.
"The winner of the 53rd Grammy Award for Best Rock Album of the Year is Leon Smith, Demons!"
Sparse applause sounded at the scene, except for the Apocalypse Music crowd, who were as happy as if it were Christmas.
Those senior figures in the music industry and superstar singers from the 80s and 90s whispered to each other, searching everywhere for Leon's trace.
They were eagerly waiting to see how this notorious villain, constantly entangled in negative news and described by the media as infamous, would behave when accepting the award.
In a highly controversial figure like Leon, they could see shadows of those rock and gangsta rap artists from the 80s and 90s.
"Excuse me, Miss Beyoncé, I'll go get an award and come right back."
"Enjoy this moment!"
Leon trotted from the corner and appeared on the stage out of nowhere.
The host didn't even see clearly where he popped out from.
Leon first hugged and exchanged greetings warmly with presenter Jennifer Lopez. "Long time no see, Ms. Jennifer~"
"Fate is truly an incredible thing. I didn't expect our reunion to be in this way." Jennifer hugged him tightly, beyond the scope of a polite hug. "Congratulations, your music has given hope and strength to many people!"
Leon wasn't polite either; holding the trophy in one hand, his other hand wrapped directly around Jennifer's waist.
Mariah Carey, Green Day, famous producer Dave Hall, and other long-established big names craned their necks, staring at this young man in a suit on the stage.
In contrast, P. Diddy and his group of little brothers looked ashen.
They could only let out a sneer from time to time.
Leon first adjusted the microphone position, holding the small golden gramophone and scanning the guests below the stage.
After a moment of silence, he said in a deep voice, "This trophy is an affirmation of me. Everyone knows that since my debut, I have been constantly in trouble, but in the end, I always manage to get out of the quagmire."
"Similarly, I have also caused trouble and distress for many people. Now I speak to them from the bottom of my heart... I want to take this opportunity to apologize."
The emotional speech quickly mobilized the emotions of the guests; they nodded and applauded.
A young man standing on the highest stage of world music at the age of twenty, losing himself under the temptation of wealth, power, and beauty—this is normal.
It sounded like a story of a prodigal son's growth. However, Leon's next statement immediately slapped everyone in the face.
Leon clutched the trophy, his eyes looking like they were about to spew fire. "How could I apologize?!"
"This is a trophy I exchanged with talent and sweat. No one deserves my apology."
"Listen, I will never apologize to anyone!"
The scene fell into silence. Guests looked at each other, faces full of disbelief.
Rarely in Grammy history had there been such an outrageous speech. Everyone knew who Leon was insinuating as his opponent.
The provocative nature of this speech rivaled Kanye's provocation of Taylor Swift at the 2009 MTV Video Music Awards.
"Fxxk! Who can tell me how much alcohol this kid drank just now?" Phil slapped his forehead. He knew this was Leon's trick to create topics.
Speaking seriously, this was a blatant provocation to opponents led by P. Diddy and Warner Music in front of music fans all over the world.
Cardi B was completely ignited with madness by this speech; she stood directly on her seat and shouted Leon's name.
Leon turned his head to look at the awkward expression on the host's face, then continued, "Here I want to thank the producer of this album, Mr. Max Martin. Without him, this album couldn't have reached such a level."
"Next, I also want to thank my girlfriend. She always gives me understanding and support."
The gloom on Robbie's face was swept away; she was even more excited than when she went on stage to receive the award just now.
"I also want to thank all the staff of Apocalypse Music, and the woman standing behind me..."
"Miss Beyoncé!"
Mentioning Beyoncé's big name, the guests in the whole venue hurriedly applauded. This was the first time Leon enjoyed such loud applause since he took the stage.
Beyoncé had a gratified smile on her face, in contrast to her husband Jay-Z beside her.
The King of New York's charcoal-black face turned purple.
His inner thought was: My wife is the woman behind you, then what am I?
What made him even angrier was that Leon thanked everyone in his acceptance speech, except for the Roc Nation kingdom.
Discerning people knew what signal this was.
P. Diddy walked quietly to Jay-Z's side at this time, the two whispering, unknown what they were chatting about.
"Leon!"
"Boss!"
"Honey!"
"Congratulations~ Your speech was impeccable~"
As soon as Leon returned to his seat, the three female generals under Apocalypse threw themselves onto him in unison.
Although he only won one award, relying on the controversial acceptance speech and being surrounded by beauties, he harvested the most camera attention in the whole venue.
Those strangers around him also stood up one after another to shake hands and congratulate Leon.
"Leon! My bro~" Not far away, a short figure walked over holding a golden gramophone trophy.
Bruno Mars won seven nominations at this Grammy Awards and took the crown for Best Male Pop Vocal Performance.
"Long time no see, Mars~" Leon hugged and exchanged greetings with him.
Since becoming Texas Hold'em poker buddies in Atlantic City, this was the first time the two had met.
"Looks like someone is going to explode with anger tonight..." Mars covered his mouth and whispered, "You were targeting Diddy just now, right... I sat next to him and saw clearly, his little brothers, Pitbull and those idiots almost rushed onto the stage to teach you a lesson."
Leon spread his hands. "I didn't target anyone; they just took the shoe because it fits."
"Haha~ I know you Bro! Your album sales are very good. When shall we go to Las Vegas to play a few hands again?"
"My luck recently is exploding! Rub off some of my luck and we can rule the gambling city!"
Leon rolled his eyes and repeatedly declined. This gambler was truly hopeless.
Going on like this, even if this guy had more talent and won Grammys every year, he probably couldn't avoid falling into a financial crisis.
Casinos are never afraid of you winning; they are only afraid of you not gambling.
In the interval of chatting with Mars, Leon's peripheral vision was attracted by a tall figure beside him.
Taylor Swift. Although she didn't win any awards this year, she was still dressed very outstandingly and eye-catchingly.
A black low-cut sequined tight dress, heavy makeup with Germanic style, plus a tall figure.
If she weren't a singer, she could totally compete with Miranda Kerr on the Victoria's Secret stage.
"Congratulations. My friends all said the Rock Album of the Year belonged to Muse, but I bet it would belong to you~" The corners of Taylor's mouth rose, her voice lazy like a mother cat.
"Why?"
"I don't know either~ Just a feeling~" Taylor spread her hands. "Honestly, your winning doesn't surprise me. What surprises me most is that you actually got Robbie onto the Grammy stage..."
"That is a miracle."
Leon laughed out loud. No matter where she went, Taylor never forgot to tease her best friend.
After a brief celebration, the awards ceremony came to an end.
Led by Beyoncé, Leon approached Quincy Jones's table.
Although Jones was incredibly glorious before the millennium, he seemed very lonely now. His tablemates were all academic music experts, not a single heavyweight singer.
Ever since he publicly sold out MJ, not many people were willing to associate with such a profit-seeking old scumbag.
Moreover, he was really too old, reaching the age where he was completely abandoned by this circle.
"Hi~ Mr. Jones~"
Beyoncé patted Jones on the shoulder from behind. He turned around and was instantly startled, so excited he almost jumped out of his wheelchair.
"Miss Beyoncé~ No one is more beautiful than you tonight~"
Jones didn't expect that Beyoncé, the current queen of the music scene who gathered wealth, fame, and power in one body, would take the initiative to talk to a dying old man like him.
"Let me introduce you. This young man is Leon. He just won the Rock Album of the Year; you should have noticed."
Leon shook hands with Jones. "I have admired you for a long time, Mr. Jones. Your cooperation with MJ was the greatest mutual achievement in music history..."
"Like Louis Armstrong, you are a great monument in the history of Black music..."
The old fox Jones wasn't dizzied by Leon's sugar-coated bullets, just responding repeatedly.
As the founder of America's largest hip-hop magazine Vibe, he knew Leon's street stories in more detail than anyone else.
The young man in front of him wasn't someone to be underestimated.
After simple greetings, Leon pulled out a chair and sat down next to Jones. "I'm investing in a movie about Black music."
"I heard about this. My bedroom still has a photo of me with N.W.A... I often think of that kid Eazy-E's smile." Jones rolled his cloudy eyes from time to time, as if trying to guess the other party's mind.
In his view, a white youth rock singer wanting to shoot a Black hip-hop movie sounded absolutely like a joke.
However, this thing did happen.
"To shoot such a movie well, one needs sufficient understanding of Black music." Leon continued to lead him.
"I agree with this point. Jazz and hip-hop music seem unrelated, but they have a clear development vein. They are all artistic treasures of us Black people." Jones nodded.
"So, I need a master who understands Black music to provide guidance for us. I think there is no more suitable candidate than you."
"Me? I'm already a person with one foot in the coffin."
The conversation between the two seemed calm, but in fact, they were probing each other.
Jones wanted to figure out the purpose of the other party approaching him, while Leon wanted to gain the other party's trust and then find a way to bag Vibe.
"Your existence is almost equivalent to the entire history of Black music. No Black person has achieved such brilliant achievements as you..." Speaking of this, Leon got emotional.
He grabbed Jones's hand and said, "Everyone thinks shooting such a movie is not a good idea... but I have a reason why I must do it."
"What reason?" Jones maintained a smile on the surface, but in his heart he thought: You stupid-to-the-extreme idiot, prepare to lose your underwear!
N.W.A had disbanded for over ten years. Who would spend money to buy a ticket to watch a long and boring biopic?
"Actually, it's to inspire more bottom-level Black people. This is a charity cause." Leon's eyes were full of sincerity.
The word charity quickly captured Jones's attention.
Nearing 80 years old, he was immersed in "charity" causes. At this age where he needed support even to pee, charity was the only way for him to maintain fame and influence now.
Leon keenly caught Jones's interest and continued, "I grew up in Brownsville. That's a Black neighborhood, you know."
"I understand the struggle of bottom-level Black people better than anyone else... food stamps, expired food, violence, single mothers... No one understands these better than me!"
"And shooting the movie Straight Outta Compton is to give strength to those bottom-level Black people who have lost hope, to let them have the courage to get out of their predicament!"
After listening to Leon's grand narrative, Jones was obviously stunned for a while.
Does this white boy really have such a big vision?
Although his brain was full of doubts, he just couldn't find loopholes in the other party's rhetoric.
Unless it was really like what Leon said, this movie was for Black teenagers across America...
Otherwise, who would shoot a movie with a 90% probability of flopping?
After two minutes of silence, Jones asked in a deep voice, "Truly a lofty ideal. You are a remarkable young man."
The corners of Leon's mouth were harder to suppress than an AK's recoil. Holding back his laughter, he answered with a serious face: "I sincerely invite you to become the artistic director of Straight Outta Compton!"