"She's not usually like this..." Leon explained while shouting, "Bonnie! Is the heating in New York really this good?!"
"Put some clothes on, quick!"
Clearly, Bonnie was completely caught off guard by Robbie's surprise visit. After a brief moment of shock, she quickly covered up and ran into her room, knowing when to make herself scarce.
Robbie stood with her arms crossed, her pout practically reaching the ceiling.
"Listen to me, honey..."
Although Leon was good at lying to women, coaxing and lying were two different things.
He had already used every ounce of his smooth-talking skills to explain the flirtatious scene with Beyoncé at the Grammys.
"You don't need to explain. Bonnie is your assistant; taking care of your daily needs isn't a big deal." Robbie kept sneering, and Leon could practically hear her teeth grinding.
She continued, "It's just that the place you're living in now is a bit too shabby. You're a Grammy winner, a rising star in the record industry. Haven't you thought about moving?"
Leon smiled helplessly.
He might be stingy, but that didn't mean he didn't know how to enjoy life. If he were in a Midwest city, he would have already moved into a massive house with a huge garden.
He might even have hired a few blonde maids with curves in all the right places to do the housekeeping.
But in the heart of Brooklyn Heights, the money that could buy a detached house in the Midwest might only be enough for a bathroom here.
Leon spread his hands and told the truth: "No money."
Robbie covered her mouth in disbelief. "How is that possible? Your album sold hundreds of thousands of copies, and the girls in the company are all making money for you..."
"I invested in that movie; it cost me a lot..." Leon shrugged. "The streaming revenue for this period hasn't come in yet. The company's financial accounts are very cumbersome right now, and the payment cycle is much longer than before."
Hearing this, Robbie had no choice but to believe him. Every time she visited Apocalypse Music's headquarters, she saw Aisha working late.
She had heard Aisha complain more than once that she was so busy she didn't even have time for a hookup.
"Maybe you should give Miss Aisha a raise... She's the hardest-working lady I've ever seen."
"Aisha is already the CFO. I've raised her salary to ten thousand dollars a month. That salary is enough for her to be a respectable person in New York."
From the initial annual salary of eighty thousand to the current one hundred and twenty thousand, the raise was a whopping fifty percent.
Leon wasn't a philanthropist; he did this purely to buy Aisha's loyalty.
This woman had connections with Mexican gangs all over the US; who knows what big secrets she was hiding.
This was also why Leon deliberately kept his distance from her. She was the only female employee at Apocalypse Music who didn't have an ambiguous relationship with the boss.
But at least for now, Aisha hadn't shown any abnormalities.
After a moment of silence, Robbie asked, "What I mean is, maybe we can buy a house together in New York. That way, you and Miss Bonnie won't have to squeeze together so uncomfortably."
Buy a house?
Hearing the plan to build a love nest together, Leon was stunned for a moment. A series of ridiculously large numbers popped into his head.
He sighed and whispered, "Let's talk about this later. Housing prices in New York are ridiculous; some areas are even more expensive than Beverly Hills."
"We don't need to buy a huge house. A 2,000-square-foot apartment is enough for the two of us," Robbie responded.
"2,000 square feet? In the heart of Brooklyn Heights, such an apartment would cost at least ten million dollars. I don't have that much right now..."
Before Leon could finish, Robbie hugged his arm and acted spoiled, "I'm not asking you to do it all by yourself. I have a little secret stash too!"
"You?"
Leon's face was written with doubt. Although Robbie was hugely successful in the music industry, she was still a second-rate actress in Hollywood.
The income from her acting career was probably only enough to maintain her daily luxurious consumption.
Although Faded exploded globally, the revenue he, as the boss, skimmed from it wasn't enough to buy a house in New York. How much money could Robbie, who took a 33% sales share, have?
"I still have 6 million dollars in my account. Maybe in a while, this number will turn into 10 million. By then, we can have our own property." Robbie looked proud, her head held high.
Hearing this number, Leon was completely shocked.
Facts proved that he completely underestimated the income from commercial performances. Faded, as a phenomenal electronic music work, became popular globally riding the electronic music wave.
From Paris to Tokyo, Robbie's commercial performance footprints covered electronic music festivals all over the world.
This forced Leon, who had always been indifferent to commercial performances, to re-evaluate the income of this sector: Are those agents earning a bit too much?
"Good suggestion, but let's wait until the movie Straight Outta Compton is released." This was Leon's answer after careful consideration.
The two were currently just boyfriend and girlfriend. Owning a joint property might lead to some drama later.
Robbie didn't dwell on this topic.
She took off her boots, stepping on the floor with her bare white feet, and casually hung her coat on the rack.
Followed by her sweater and leggings...
Now she was only wearing a set of underwear.
"What are you doing?" Leon was confused for a moment. He had just fed her full in Los Angeles yesterday.
"New York's heating is really hot..." Robbie put on an apron and gave him a charming eye-roll. "Let me cook for you tonight~"
She can cook?
Leon looked distrustful. This woman didn't look like the type who would do housework at all.
Robbie fussed around in the kitchen, and soon bursts of smoke came out, almost triggering the apartment's fire alarm system connected to the fire department.
Generally speaking, only Chinese people cooking stir-fry create such a scene, while "white people food" is usually simple microwave stuff.
"WTF are you doing?" Leon rushed into the kitchen to see what was happening.
Robbie was holding a spatula with a panicked look, her body a full half-meter away from the frying pan.
Lying quietly in the pan was a charred black egg.
Leon's head was full of question marks. "You've been busy for so long just to fry an egg?"
"There's more!" Robbie proudly took out a lump of somewhat disgusting viscous substance from the microwave. "Macaroni with meat sauce~"
Fried egg plus microwave food—the simplest white people food looked as complicated as a Chinese feast under Robbie's operation.
At the dining table, Robbie sat on the chair with an expectant look. "Eat, honey~"
Looking at the charred egg and the vomit-like macaroni, Leon, holding a knife and fork, didn't know where to start.
The rising star of the music industry, who had been commanding and releasing bold words on Grammy night, looked lost at this moment, not knowing what to do.
Robbie swung her little feet under the table, narrowed her eyes, and revealed a mischievous smile. "Does my cooking not suit your taste, honey?"
That smile made Leon shudder. He immediately understood that she was punishing him in an alternative way.
Thinking of everything that happened recently, to appease Robbie's emotions, he could only bite the bullet and eat it.
He cut the "charcoal" in front of him with a knife and fork, picked up a piece, and sent it into his mouth.
"Is it good?" Robbie stared at Leon with fox-like eyes.
"Very delicious, even better than my mom's..." Leon ate without making a sound.
"Glad you like it~ Speaking of which, when will you take me to see your mom?" Robbie rested her chin on her hand and tilted her head.
Under the table, she was launching a secret attack.
The comfortable touch spread through his body like an electric current, guiding the release of dopamine.
Looking down, it was Robbie's glowing white foot.
He could only sigh helplessly: "Fxxk, really not a single day off..."
That night, Bonnie was almost sleepless, tortured all night by the cries coming from the next room.
---
The Next Day
Early the next morning, as soon as they arrived at the company, Leon asked Robbie to do some simple vocal training with the vocal coach first.
The vocal coach soon noticed something was wrong and asked curiously, "Miss Robbie, why is your voice suddenly hoarse? It was fine yesterday."
To this, Robbie could only perfunctorily say, "I'm not quite used to New York's heating. I think I caught a cold..."
In the label owner's office, Leon poured a cup of coffee as usual.
Three newspapers were on his left, and his right hand was scrolling the mouse, browsing topics about the Grammy Awards on social media.
Although the biggest winners at the Grammys were Rihanna, Jay-Z, and Mars, the number one trending topic was Leon's acceptance speech.
Since his debut half a year ago, he had been entangled in scandals, so much so that the media couldn't find suitable words to attack him anymore.
Scumbag, arrogant, gang member, disrespectful to seniors...
For Leon, these were all clichés, completely painless.
But when he learned from the newly recruited sales director Rubio that fans were queuing up outside record stores to buy the Demons album, he knew he had done the right thing again.
Approaching 11 AM, Phil's wretched laughter came from outside the door.
"Hi~ Bonnie, your butt is perkier than usual today!"
"And you, Aisha, why aren't you showing your cleavage today? Look at the gentlemen here, all listless. Their work efficiency has dropped by at least half!"
Amidst laughter, Phil walked into Leon's office.
"You seem a bit late today." Leon glanced at the time on the dial while swinging in his swivel chair.
"You don't know how bad the traffic is today!"
"Fxxk! Those feminist bxxches don't know what medicine they took today. From Manhattan Beach to Brooklyn Heights, these marching bxxches are everywhere!"
While cursing, Phil placed a stack of documents on Leon's desk.
This was the commercial performance plan he planned for Leon from late February to April.
"I've removed those activities you're not interested in or pay low. See if there's anything else that needs adjustment."
The old geezer's face was written with displeasure. Strong agents basically wouldn't ask the singer themselves when arranging performances.
But he had to discuss with Leon every time and completely obey Leon's arrangements.
The last singer who made him so humble was Avril Lavigne.
Leon picked up the document, flipped through two pages, and put it down.
The performance plan wasn't much different from before, mainly promotional performances for Demons and music festival performances.
The only highlight was the Coachella Music Festival in April.
Among the three major music festivals held in California, Coachella is the largest and has the strongest lineup.
Almost all those who can step onto this stage are A-list singers. Nowadays, with its influence and lineup, it is no exaggeration to say it's the number one music festival in the US.
"Is there nothing else besides these?" Leon leaned back in his swivel chair and asked, "Didn't you mention before that a feminist organization wanted me to perform for them, and even a New York State Senator would appear at the rally?"
Hearing this, Phil's eyes suddenly lit up. "Didn't you say you weren't interested in those political activities, whether left or right?"
"I've changed my mind now." Leon spread his hands. "Many of them are my fans. Maybe I shouldn't be so mean to them."
Phil kept sneering. Although he didn't know what Leon was up to, he wouldn't believe a single punctuation mark of these words!
But whatever Leon's purpose was didn't matter anymore; it was enough that he could change his thinking.
After 2008, various leftist ideologies swept across the US like a hurricane, and society was in the midst of a huge transformation regarding "wokeness."
And such groups are often fanatical celebrity chasers. Rednecks in the vast rural areas have never been the main consumers in the record market.
Under this background, many A-list stars would come out to support various "woke movements" to seize the fan base.
"Although I don't know what enlightened you, this is a good thing." Phil thought for a moment and continued, "There are too many organizations that want to invite you. Cindy, your biggest fan leader on the Reddit community, is one of the leaders of the New York Woke Movement."
"Is that so?" Leon suddenly got energized. He didn't expect to have such high-quality fans.
There were countless woke organizations across the US. Although these people had different life backgrounds, most were low-to-middle-income people.
They sought a sense of existence in society through identity verification.
But with the Democratic Party's policy tilt, the influence of these organizations was no longer comparable to the early millennium.
Many Democratic bigwigs relied on cooperation with these organizations to pull votes and consolidate their positions.
Phil responded, "Of course. You may not know how many times they have invited you; Bonnie knows very well."
Leon lit a cigarette, puffing contentedly. "Very good... Please help me contact this Miss Cindy. I'd be happy to contribute to their great movement..."
"My schedule is tight after the Grammys, you know. I only attend the most important rallies with heavyweight figures present."
Hearing this, Phil instantly understood everything. He understood why Leon suddenly changed his mind to stand up for these losers he looked down on the most.
Public figures already gained strong social influence through their fan base. There were only two ways to gain higher social status.
One way was charity, which superstars like MJ, Madonna, Bob Dylan, etc., all did.
The other way was to deal with political figures.
Leon wasn't the first star to think of doing this; on the contrary, this was mainstream in the entertainment industry.
"Very good, looks like you have indeed grown a lot." Phil picked up his briefcase, ready to leave. "But you must not get too close to political figures. Compared to that place, the entertainment industry is as innocent as kids playing house."
Leon blew out a large cloud of smoke, the corners of his mouth rising as he responded, "Don't think too much. For me, everything is just for the sake of my fans."
Does this kid take me for a retard? Phil thought to himself, scratching his head as he turned to leave the office.