Seeing Leon's strange look, Taylor felt something was very off, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.
"Actually, there's no need. I have my own personal trainer."
"Don't overthink it, it's just a normal exercise," Leon responded with a smile.
"I wasn't thinking about anything else." Taylor inadvertently glanced at her yoga pants, which were completely clinging to her skin due to sweat, and a blush crept up her cheeks again.
Right now, the fabric and her skin were stuck together without any gap, almost like she was wearing nothing.
She waved her hand and said, "Let's talk about Robbie."
Hearing this, Leon frowned: You called me over just to talk about this?
He finally understood why Taylor had been giving him the cold shoulder today.
During their girls' nights, they had probably already painted Leon as a cold-blooded scumbag.
"I don't think there's anything left to discuss," Leon said straight to the point. "It's over."
Taylor instantly showed a shocked expression, her mouth forming an 'O' shape. "Are you serious?"
"I'm very serious. Robbie and I can't go back to how things were," Leon said.
"But Robbie has been waiting for you, waiting for an apology..." Taylor tried to persuade him repeatedly.
"I didn't do anything wrong, why should I apologize?" Leon paused and said:
"I told everyone at the Grammy Awards that I will never apologize to anyone."
These words left Taylor stunned for a full thirty seconds.
After recovering, she kept muttering under her breath: "Scumbag... bastard."
Leon intentionally spoke so decisively, virtually cutting off any possibility of reconciliation.
Diverging values cannot be bridged by any number of apologies.
He liked the Robbie who, even if labeled as Satan and spat on by the whole world...
Could still face the media cameras nonchalantly and say, "If he is Satan, then let me become a devil too."
The two moved from the lawn into the house. Taylor handed Leon a cup of coffee and placed it in front of him.
Then she walked up the stairs and disappeared.
Leaving her guest, Leon, hanging there just like that.
Leon shook his head helplessly. He knew that in this woman's mind, he was now synonymous with "scumbag."
Bored, he walked around casually in the huge living room.
Although the area was large, it seemed unusually empty.
Taylor wasn't like Beyoncé, keen on filling her house with art and trophies.
Only two Scottish Fold cats were pacing around the room casually.
Twenty minutes later, Taylor walked down the stairs.
The tight sportswear had been replaced by loose black silk pajamas.
Her straight, fair calves and a large patch of skin on her chest were exposed to the air without cover.
Clearly only 22 years old, yet she exuded the deadly allure of a young housewife.
"So this woman went to take a shower..." Leon felt deeply helpless.
Leaving a guest hanging to go take a shower—she really didn't take him seriously.
Taylor sat on the sofa opposite Leon.
The pajamas naturally slid up a few inches, revealing glimpses of her fair thighs.
She took a sip of coffee and asked, "We need to speed up the MV progress. Scott hopes the record can be officially released within two weeks."
"Understood." Leon leaned back on the sofa. "You listen to him just like that? You look like his pet."
This didn't sound very nice, but it was the truth.
Even Taylor herself couldn't refute it. Many times she could sense that she was completely controlled by Scott.
Big Machine Records was one of the few record companies in the music industry today that wasn't backed by any giant.
This point was exactly like Apocalypse Music.
But the relative difference was that Apocalypse had three equally famous female singers, while Big Machine relied entirely on Taylor alone.
Her speed in writing lyrics seemed to be a superpower.
For the song Never Grow Up, from the burst of inspiration to writing the lyrics and composing the music, it took her only two hours in total.
Taylor Swift was not only notable for her speed in composing but also always knew how to convey her own experiences and deepest feelings through songs.
Leon had long coveted this ability.
He was jealous of Scott, the boss of Big Machine Records.
If Apocalypse Music could get a singer of Taylor's level, it would probably immediately establish its status as a top-tier record company.
"My schedule recently is very busy, so we must hurry up with the recording." Taylor raised an eyebrow. "I'm in the middle of a world tour, you know."
The Speak Now World Tour was the second tour held by Taylor.
Covering four continents, with a staggering scale of 111 shows in total.
Only superstars could sustain a global tour of this level; current Leon was still quite a distance away from this.
In the Asian and European legs of the tour that had already ended, Taylor's concert attendance rate reached an astonishing 100%...
In a month, the main event, the North American tour, would officially begin.
By then, Taylor would have no time to worry about the MV shoot.
"The shooting isn't hard to arrange; the problem is the budget." Leon stopped pretending and laid his cards on the table.
According to the distribution agreement signed by Apocalypse Music, Big Machine Records, and Columbia Records...
Leon, as the main songwriter, enjoyed 50% of the copyright for Bang Bang.
Beyoncé, Taylor, and Cardi B each enjoyed a symbolic 10%.
Seeing the potential of this work, producer Max Martin insisted on taking 20% of the copyright.
More complex was the split of record sales.
Columbia Records and Beyoncé took a 25% share of record sales, including all channels like physical records and streaming.
Big Machine Records and Taylor did the same.
Of the remaining 50%, 10% had to be given to Cardi B...
After calculating recording, promotion, MV shooting, and all other costs, a bold question mark popped up in Leon's mind:
How am I supposed to make money like this?
With two Divas anchoring it, making money was a given, but after deducting costs, it would probably be hard to reach Leon's expected figure.
"Why is your head full of money?" Taylor sighed. "You've obviously made so much money, yet you can't even bear to pay for an MV."
"I'm not as rich as you."
"Miser!" Taylor pouted. "Is money that important to you?"
Leon didn't know how to answer for a moment.
Taylor came from a middle-class family and had never worried about food or clothing since childhood.
She hadn't lived in the gang mire of Brownsville, and her experience of singing for pocket money was limited to school campuses.
Not in old, dim subway stations.
After about half a minute of silence, Leon said: "Nothing."
Immediately after, he looked up and added—"Everything."
Hearing this, Taylor waved her hands repeatedly in annoyance.
She had never been poor; she wouldn't understand.
"Alright~ I give up on you, miser." Taylor rolled her eyes, bent down, and casually picked up the Fold cat on the ground.
She leaned down, pressing her face against the cat, nuzzling it affectionately.
Completely unaware that because she bent down, a large area of her chest was exposed.
"It looks about the same as Little A..." Leon evaluated in his mind.
Compared to her long, powerful legs, Taylor's upper body assets were obviously much weaker.
"What are you looking at?" Taylor looked up and asked.
"Nothing."
"Are you staying for dinner?"
"I don't have that intention."
Saying that, Leon quickly got up; the other party had already issued an eviction order.
From the tidiness of the cabinets and kitchenware, it was obvious that this woman never cooked.
Women in the entertainment industry were basically like this. As Cardi B wrote in WAP:
I don't cook, I don't clean, but let me tell you how I got this ring.
For Taylor, maybe another line should be added: I don't have kids.
She had expressed her reluctance to have children to the media many times.
But whether she had Cardi B's skill to "let you get the ring," Leon wouldn't know.
---
After resting for a night at the hotel, Leon immediately set off to fly back to New York.
Two days later, the first issue of Vibe magazine after its resumption was released.
Relying on explosive content, it sold out rapidly.
On the day of release, 20,000 physical magazines in New York State were swept clean.
Online magazine subscriptions surprisingly reached 50,000.
The physical magazine was priced at $7.99, and the online subscription price was $4.99 per issue.
Vibe was currently a semi-monthly publication, released twice a month.
If this momentum could be maintained, the revenue from online subscriptions alone could reach $500,000 per month.
And the profit center of traditional magazines lay in advertising, which held huge profit margins.
Leon had already proposed to Sean the idea of charging an annual fee to subscribers.
Subscribers only needed to pay a certain fee to read Vibe magazine freely for the whole year, which could attract even more subscribers.
"The whole entertainment industry is discussing the column we published!" Bonnie said. "The internet is full of discussions about Diddy's parties..."
Following Leon's instructions, Sean exposed many details of Diddy's parties.
Like group drug use, orgies, etc...
Although most of the celebrities involved were not named, everyone could basically guess who they were.
Descriptions like "Gorilla playing basketball in a maid outfit" made it obvious at a glance that it was referring to NBA superstar LeBron James.
Others like Jennifer Lopez, Usher, Justin Bieber, Will Smith...
None of these people were spared.
In addition, the article dug deep into Diddy's family.
He was born into a drug-dealing family with debts of blood.
His father, Melvin, was a member of the Frank Lucas drug trafficking group.
The most notorious story of this gang was using the bodies of American soldiers killed in the Vietnam War to smuggle drugs back to the country.
Relying on this pioneering smuggling channel, Frank became the biggest drug lord in New York around the 1970s.
Melvin died in an unexplained shooting when Diddy was two years old.
And this story, after Sean's magic modification, became Melvin betraying Frank and becoming a police informant.
That was why Frank sent a gunman to execute him.
"Snitch."
This was the most despised behavior in the rap culture circle.
At the end of the article, in T-ray's tone, a shout-out was directed at Diddy: "The horn of war has sounded. You want to see blood? Chester Bloods will surely make your blood flow like a river."
"Don't forget, I roll with Street Jesus Leon."
"He won't let go of any opponent; you can pray to God now!"
It is worth mentioning that on the day Vibe was released, police from the NYPD found T-ray.
But this fat ngga kept his mouth shut tight, insisting that the shooting he encountered was an accident.
Before leaving, he was warned by the cops: "Don't escalate the situation!"
Discussions on social networks didn't stop for a moment. Just by scrolling the mouse wheel lightly, dozens of the latest discussions would pop up in a second.
Serious news media like CNN spent nearly three minutes introducing the beginning and end of the "Second East Coast vs. West Coast Gang War."
Everyone was curious about the development of things next, and whether P. Diddy would face retaliation.
Holding Vibe magazine, inciting the "Second East Coast vs. West Coast Gang War," and with the upcoming black hip-hop movie Straight Outta Compton...
Leon was dubbed by the media as the "Rap Godfather Who Doesn't Rap."
"What do we do next?" George appeared unexpectedly in Leon's office.
As T-ray's big brother, he was inevitably dragged into this matter.
"What do you want to do?" Leon wanted to hear the other party's thoughts.
This Beef looked simple, but it was actually very complicated.
If it were on the streets, then just hit back directly, blood for blood.
But this was the entertainment industry; it was hard for him to directly order a hit on a superstar living under the spotlight.
And doing so wouldn't bring him any economic benefits.
"I don't know..." George said. "I haven't found that shooter yet; he might have left the US long ago. Looks like this matter can only end here."
"WTF! What are you saying!" T-ray was emotional, pointing to the spot on his butt where he was shot. "Bro, I took four shots, and we just let it go?"
George spread his hands. He was also forced into this conflict helplessly.
T-ray gained both fame and fortune in the radio business relying on Leon's traffic, but George didn't get a single benefit.
After a moment of silence, Leon asked, "Do you know that ngga Duane Davis?"
"Duane?" George looked troubled. "That guy isn't ordinary. He's been hustling on the streets since at least the Frank Lucas era, when he was just a teenager."
"The shooter was Duane's man." Leon went straight to the point. "We can randomly retaliate against one of Duane's underlings."
"This..." George's face looked increasingly ugly.
If this matter involved Duane, it would be difficult to handle.
Even comparing street influence, he was far inferior to the other party.
Leon saw the other party's concerns and continued, "Just a dead ngga, no one will notice~"
This was the best way to respond currently.
It could maintain the heat without attracting police attention.
Unknown numbers of black people died in unexplained gunfights in New York every day; most of these cases ended up unsettled.
The police generally classified such events as gang struggles and wouldn't really spend energy investigating.
"Bro~ We must show Duane some color!" T-ray instigated from the side.
In fact, Leon could totally let Jorge's people do these dirty jobs, but the best candidate was definitely George.
George being T-ray's big brother was known to everyone on the streets of Brooklyn.
It couldn't be more reasonable for a big brother to avenge his little brother.
And Leon got the traffic while being able to distance himself from it to the greatest extent.
Even if Diddy used his connection with NYPD Commissioner McMahon to target him, no evidence could be found.
"Listen George, if you can't react to this matter, then your street career ends here." Leon PUA'd him.
George was very clear about this; even if he offended Duane, he couldn't lose his dignity.
Respect was the guarantee of everything when hustling on the streets.
His only distress was that he did all the dirty work in this matter but got no benefits.
Seeing George's expression waver, Leon struck while the iron was hot. "There's a club called Naughty Kitten in Brownsville, you must be familiar with it..."
"Such an interesting club is about to go out of business now..."
"To let those girls continue to contribute to the community, I plan to buy that place... but my energy is limited, I can't take care of the business there."
"George, are you interested in that club?"