Jones's left brain and right brain were in a wrestling match.
He had entered this industry at the age of 13 following the "King of Soul" Ray Charles. In that era, the Irish mob and the Italian Mafia were everywhere in the entertainment industry.
Having experienced countless dirty deals and betrayals, he had developed the habit of considering everything from the starting point of profit.
Seeing this, Leon wasn't in a hurry and continued to guide him, "Mr. Jones, I have a question for you."
"Ask away, child. I'll do my best to give you an answer."
"Why do Black people make up only 13% of this country's total population, but account for 50% of the homicides?"
As soon as these words came out, both Jones and Beyoncé were stunned.
This was naked racism!
Beyoncé, who had never lost her temper with Leon, couldn't help but scold him angrily, "Leon! What exactly are you saying!"
He quickly pressed his hands down to signal everyone to calm down, still repeating the sharp question, "Can you answer this question for me?"
Answering this question from either an educational or historical perspective would make it hard to avoid being labeled a racist.
Jones immediately understood that this kid in front of him was digging a pit for him.
"I don't understand..." Although his mouth said this, he knew very well in his heart about his Black compatriots.
They shouted "peace & love" with their mouths, but in more than 80% of the homicides committed, the victims were their own Black compatriots.
"I think the reason lies in the fact that only 20% of Black people have a father present during their upbringing," Leon said in a deep voice.
"Really?" Beyoncé showed a look of surprise. A middle-class girl born in the big southern city of Houston certainly wouldn't understand these situations.
Jones, on the other hand, nodded in deep agreement.
In his opinion, the figure of 20% was still conservative. When he was young, it would have been good if 10% of Black children had fathers present.
Most fathers would vanish without a trace after sowing their seeds.
They either headed to hell under substance abuse or broke the law and went to prison.
"What exactly are you trying to express, young man?"
"My point is that studies show fathers are of primary importance in shaping a child's correct values. But look at how many Black children in this country have fathers?"
"In this situation, how many movies are there that describe the struggle of bottom-level Black people to help shape children's values?"
The series of sharp questions Leon threw out left Jones speechless.
He continued, "Except for Will Smith's The Pursuit of Happyness, I can't seem to think of any such movie..."
"What I want to do is exactly such a thing. Our movie will influence and encourage many young people!"
Under Leon's brainwashing and Beyoncé's encouragement, this old man with one foot in the grave was finally moved.
If the movie Straight Outta Compton could really create a certain influence as Leon said, then Jones, as the artistic director, would add another glorious entry to his resume for charity dinners.
He could proudly tell others that the wisdom he contributed to the movie changed the fate of countless teenagers.
This was exactly what he craved.
The most critical point was that although biopics were considered box office poison from a market perspective, they were very easy to gain the favor of the Oscars!
Jones had been on the Oscar podium after collaborating with Spielberg in 1985, and he desperately longed to return to that glorious podium before he was buried.
"You've convinced me, young man..."
"That is truly wonderful!" After getting the promise, Leon could finally relax his facial expression management.
This meant he had successfully gained the trust of this eccentric old man, taking a big step forward in the process of acquiring Vibe magazine.
The next thing to do was to snatch this most famous hip-hop magazine in history from this shrewd old miser at the lowest price.
---
The Aftermath
By the time he returned to his seat, the awards ceremony was nearing its end.
Robbie, who had witnessed Leon and Beyoncé sticking together the whole time, didn't look in a good mood.
She crossed her arms, constantly muttering to herself, "Bastard, bastard, bastard..."
Leon curled his lips and said calmly, "Miss Beyoncé and I were just discussing work."
"Your boss is Jay-Z, not Beyoncé!" Robbie glared fiercely at Leon. "Didn't you notice Jay-Z's expression?"
"There's really nothing between her and me... I can swear to God."
Robbie rolled her eyes. "My whole family are devout Protestants... Your actions sometimes really make me doubt my faith..."
Before she could finish her words, she was pulled into Leon's arms.
After returning to the apartment, the two couldn't wait another second. After getting out of the elevator, they hurriedly released the seals on their bodies without even waiting to open the door.
They merged into one under the witness of two golden Grammy trophies.
From the kitchen to the balcony, every corner of the apartment bore proof of their intense friction.
---
Back in New York
Early the next morning, Robbie and Leon boarded the plane back to New York together.
Phil kept firing shots at Leon while reading the newspaper. "Congratulations, you successfully grabbed traffic again. The media is speculating on the meaning of your acceptance speech last night."
"Very good, this will make my album reach the Platinum line faster," Leon responded perfunctorily while flirting with Robbie.
Two months had passed since the release of the Demons album. Now sales had reached the 900,000 mark, only one step away from the platinum line of one million copies.
According to the annual album chart data just released by Billboard, Eminem's comeback masterpiece Recovery topped the list with sales of 3.42 million copies for the entire year of 2010.
But Eminem's album was released in July last year, selling for four months longer than Leon's album.
Looking at it this way, it was already very rare for Demons to achieve such results against the backdrop of the decline of rock music.
Counting commercial performance income, advertising endorsements, copyright income, and Apocalypse label sales shares together, Leon's net worth had officially broken through 10 million dollars.
But in fact, he didn't have that much cash right now. Before the filming of Straight Outta Compton started, he paid Lionsgate a start-up fund of 5 million dollars according to the contract.
Of which he contributed 3.5 million dollars, and Robinson contributed 1.5 million dollars.
"Is your brain filled with nothing but money?" Phil sneered and shook the newspaper. "Your speech last night was too excessive. I can't imagine any possibility of reconciliation between you and Diddy."
"Why reconcile?" Leon said nonchalantly.
Phil vented all the dissatisfaction in his stomach: "Not reconcile? Do you really think you are Al Capone? Is one of you and Diddy destined to lie dead on the street?"
"Why did you have to get involved with Beyoncé at such a sensitive moment? Is that dark tunnel so attractive to you?"
"Shxt! This is simply stupid. Now you only have the path of renewing your contract with Roc Nation, otherwise, Jay-Z will definitely make you pay!"
After listening to the old geezer's string of analysis on pros and cons, Leon still looked comfortable.
He unhurriedly asked the flight attendant for a cup of coffee, took a sip, and said with a smile, "Anyway, the situation is already terrible. If I let others manipulate me, I will only lose more."
"So you just stepped on the gas and drove the car straight into hell?!" Phil was so anxious he scratched his hair. "Warner, Diddy... and if you count Jay-Z, your career and life are in crisis."
Leon put down the coffee cup and told Phil a story: "Two little mice fell into a bucket full of milk. One mouse gave up struggling and soon drowned in the milk. The other mouse struggled hard, finally churning the milk into butter and escaping."
Phil was silent for a while after listening, his brows gradually smoothing out.
"You mean chaos is a ladder?" After pondering for a while, he seemed to figure something out. "Interesting... but I have to remind you that challenging their legendary status is a very dangerous thing."
---
The Recording Studio
Immediately after landing in New York, Leon contacted Max Martin to talk about the arrangement ideas for We Don't Talk Anymore.
Robbie's schedule was very tight, with only three days.
Three days later, she would start a tour in the Great Lakes region, and then fly non-stop to her hometown Australia for performances.
Faded had exploded globally; in terms of international fame, Robbie was obviously a notch higher than Leon.
In the recording studio, Leon and Robbie were singing We Don't Talk Anymore a cappella. Also appearing in the recording studio was Cardi B.
Although Max couldn't figure out why there was an unrelated Black girl on the scene...
He didn't have time to think about it. Leon and Robbie's a cappella singing had already left him no time to look elsewhere, his face written with pain.
After listening for only a few dozen seconds, he shook his head repeatedly. "Stop, quick... Shxt, you two are a couple, why is there no chemistry at all?"
"Miss Robbie, you need more vocal training. You've been off-beat since the beginning."
Although Max spoke very politely, Robbie still hung her head in shame. "I'm very sorry..."
Leon patted her shoulder and said, "It doesn't matter, just need to insert something to make up for these flaws."
"What nonsense are you talking about!"
Robbie instantly blushed. Leon quickly explained, "I mean 'plug in' (auto-tune)... Anyway, listeners are used to you being plugged in."
"You can't always count on auto-tune to solve problems," Max said grumpily. "And you, Leon, the overall style of this song doesn't fit your persona at all. It's really too sissy."
Leon had indeed considered this issue before.
Whether it was the Demons album or his fame song Take Me to Church, they were rock music full of power and male hormones.
However, results spoke for everything. Señorita, which he collaborated on with Ariana before, had proven that listeners didn't reject him singing this style.
But he didn't want to completely imitate the original singer's overly effeminate singing method from the inspiration refresh mechanism.
Some adjustments in tone were necessary.
After some guidance from Max, the cooperation between the two indeed showed significant progress, but still couldn't reach the best effect.
"Alright... without the backing track being made, I really can't ask for too much." Max sighed.
They spent a long time exchanging ideas about the backing track.
Leon not only provided the musical notation but also made precise arrangements for every drum beat in the arrangement, which greatly reduced Max's workload.
After the exchange of opinions was completed, Max was preparing to return to his studio to start the production of the backing track but was stopped by Leon.
"Miss Cardi B also wrote a song recently. She hopes very much to hear your opinion."
Leon brought Max to Cardi, and the two shook hands.
"Aha~ It's an honor to meet you, Max~" After seeing this legendary producer, Cardi found it hard to manage her expression. "I'm getting more and more interested in mature men recently. You look very delicious~"
Max had of course heard Cardi's name and had fresh memories of her bold and obscene style.
Despite some psychological preparation, seeing Cardi licking her fingers still made him shiver.
"Hello... Miss Cardi B." The two shook hands.
After a few simple greetings, Max pulled Leon aside and whispered, "I don't have much experience with rap music. Maybe you can hand this girl over to someone else."
"Someone else? In my heart, no producer compares to you. They are all just undeserved reputations." Leon quickly put a high hat on him (flattered him).
"I'm really not good at rap..."
Before Max could finish his words, he was interrupted by Leon. "You better look at the work first... Cardi, hand over the lyrics you wrote."
"Yes sir!" Cardi rummaged through her backpack stuffed with female toys, lipstick, and foundation, and took out a stack of severely wrinkled papers.
Her face was written with confidence as she handed the lyrics over. "You'll love it to death, Max!"
Max sighed helplessly. Although he had prepared himself mentally, he was still shocked by the scale of the lyrics.
He was silent for a minute first, then covered his stomach and laughed out loud. He directly read out the essence of the lyrics.
"Enter this tunnel and don't you fxxking think about coming out, remember to bring a bucket and a mop, because this tunnel needs cleaning anytime..."
"Bring out all your skills! Only then are you worthy of the world's number one tunnel."
"This old lady will suppress you directly, swipe your face like a credit card!"
"Miss Cardi B, may I ask in what mental state you wrote these lyrics?"
Hearing the content of the lyrics for the first time, Robbie's mouth formed an "O" shape in surprise, and she looked at Cardi with a bit more respect.
Judging by Max's current state, Leon didn't hold much hope anymore.
The other party completely treated this work as a joke.
Cardi B obviously didn't realize this, taking Max's laughter as praise.
She answered with a smug face, "After linking with my ex-boyfriend~ You know girls, at that time there are always many thoughts in the brain."
"Awesome..." Max didn't stop laughing until he ran out of breath. "I'm very willing to serve as the producer of this work."
"You're not kidding, are you, Max?!" This answer exceeded Leon's expectations.
"Of course. I've never seen such interesting lyrics. I can't wait to hear what the finished product sounds like. This is really too anticipated~"
Getting Max's affirmative answer, Leon felt relieved.
Obviously, this super producer who had been in the industry for more than fifteen years and produced countless golden hits treated Cardi B's work as an interesting experiment.
---
The Apartment
It was already 7 PM when they left the recording studio.
At Robbie's strong request, this time Leon didn't arrange for her to stay in a hotel but let her move directly into his apartment.
Even from an economic point of view, it was quite cost-effective.
When Robbie traveled, she only stayed in suites of luxury brand five-star hotels.
For those luxury hotels in New York, a one-night stay started at over a thousand dollars.
Stepping into her boyfriend's residence for the first time, Robbie couldn't hide her excitement. From the moment she got into the elevator, she indulged in leaning on Leon's chest.
This represented that the relationship between the two had gone a step further.
But as soon as she entered the door, she couldn't smile anymore.
Bonnie, who had long finished work, was lying on a yoga mat in the living room, practicing yoga following the guidance of a TV program.
A voice came from the TV: "Now this pose is the Downward Dog. Try to lower your waist... Ladies in front of the TV..."
"Adjust your breathing... Feel the rhythm of your breath..."
The key point was that Bonnie was wearing almost nothing.
Since she didn't know there were guests today, Bonnie didn't turn her head when she heard the door opening, completely immersed in the world of yoga.
Veins popped out on Robbie's forehead. Gritting her teeth, she said word by word:
"Does Miss Bonnie practice yoga like this usually?"
"You watch this usually?"