"Who here was moved after hearing 'Burn'?"
Over eighty percent of the crowd still raised their hands, many of whom were girls.
Carson smiled. "It seems our Mr. Record-Breaker has succeeded. He's taken over your party playlists and late-night headphones."
Next was TRL's classic segment—audience interaction and impromptu performances.
Carson picked a few fans from the scene who were incoherent with excitement and let them ask Landon questions.
The questions were varied, ranging from "What is your source of inspiration?" to "What color socks do you like?" Landon answered them all patiently and humorously, drawing constant laughter.
The climax was the live performance.
The music started, and Landon stood up from his bar stool and walked to the center of the stage. Lil and Ludacris were behind him, while Eliza and two dancers suddenly appeared from the aisles on both sides of the audience, dancing their way onto the stage.
This entrance triggered frantic screams.
The space in the live studio was limited, but the close-range performance brought a stronger impact and sense of intimacy instead.
Landon high-fived the audience in the first row directly, and when he sang the chorus, he handed the microphone toward the audience, leading the whole crowd in a sing-along.
Eliza's dancing was even bolder and hotter; several moves brought her almost flush against Landon. When their eyes met, sparks flew, and the stage chemistry was captured by the camera, blurring the boundary between real emotion and performance once again.
Lil and Ludacris also completely let loose, driving the rhythm.
The entire live studio turned into a miniature, boiling club.
The performance ended, and the applause and screams lasted for a long time.
Carson Daly gave the final summary: "Unbelievable! Landon Williams, congratulations on your incredible first-week results, and thank you and your team for bringing such a great live set. Everyone, this was today's special guest on TRL! Don't forget, his self-titled EP is making history, go support it!"
The moment the live signal was cut, the clamor in the studio subsided slightly, but the excitement still buzzed in the air.
Staff members came forward to communicate follow-up matters.
Carson Daly said privately to Landon, "Great performance, Landon. You were born for this stage and the camera. Keep it up."
Landon thanked him and was then surrounded by his team members.
Lil and Ludacris were still excitedly discussing the details of the performance just now.
Eliza walked over, her face flushed with a post-exercise glow and fine sweat, her smile more genuine and relaxed than before. "Your reaction was really fast during that interaction segment just now," she said, handing him a bottle of water.
"You too, the entrance design was great." Landon took the water and clinked his bottle against hers.
The subtle changes between the two caused by their brief separation and career shifts melted away in the heat after completing a successful performance together.
When leaving the studio, through the huge glass curtain wall, Landon saw some billboards in Times Square that had already been replaced with giant promotional posters for his EP, occupying a place in the sea of neon lights.
That night, the sparks between Landon and Eliza Dushku that were reignited by the stage were set ablaze in a suite at a top Manhattan hotel.
Without many words, the tension accumulated from days of promotion, the excitement after breaking records, and the summons of each other's physical memories turned into a whole night of tireless exploration and demand.
Eliza was more invested than ever before, as if she wanted to carve the sensory imprints of this moment into her bones before an uncertain future arrived.
It wasn't until the horizon paled that the two finally fell into a deep sleep amidst extreme exhaustion.
Early the next morning, as the morning light peeked through the gaps in the curtains, Landon woke up driven by his biological clock.
Beside him, Eliza was deep in the soft duvet, her blonde hair spread across the pillow, sleeping soundly with steady breathing and a face full of laziness and satisfaction.
Landon didn't wake her; he got up quietly, washed, and changed into the suit that Zoe had already ironed flat.
Before leaving, he looked back at the sleeping Eliza.
He knew that the next time they met, he didn't know when it would be again.
Perhaps at some work occasion, with a polite smile.
Those were the rules.
With the effect brought by the record-breaking first-week sales of 2.51 million copies of his debut self-titled EP, the commercial value represented by the name Landon Williams exploded geometrically.
At the negotiation table in Los Angeles, Tracy's bargaining chips were more abundant than ever before.
The tug-of-war with Universal Music Group regarding a contract upgrade was in intense progress; every point of concession or persistence could mean changes in millions of dollars of future revenue.
Meanwhile, Landon's daily operations team also expanded rapidly to adapt to his current status as a phenomenal star and his security needs.
In addition to the core driver and security head Bruce, two professional bodyguards were added to the team, responsible for dealing with increasingly fanatical fans and ubiquitous cameras in public places.
An experienced exclusive Makeup Artist and a stylist-costumer joined to ensure he looked flawless and had a distinct style before appearing in front of any camera.
More importantly, a senior media publicist was personally recruited by Tracy to specifically handle increasingly complex media relations and public opinion monitoring, and to plan more strategic public image output.
Zoe's role also underwent a subtle but important transformation. She was still Landon's chief assistant, responsible for his most trivial yet core schedule and needs, but she was completely freed from the chores of doubling as a Makeup Artist.
Tracy began to directly hand over more execution levels of the management business to her—reviewing primary contract terms, coordinating internal team communication, screening preliminary cooperation invitations, and summarizing reports for Tracy.
Zoe was gradually growing into the de facto "traveling manager" by Landon's side; her calmness, efficiency, and deep understanding of Landon's work habits made her an indispensable extension of Tracy between New York and Los Angeles.
Today, after completing a small fan meeting in Los Angeles, Landon sat in the back seat of the newly equipped stretch Lincoln and loosened his tie, looking slightly tired.
Zoe sat next to him, holding a wet wipe, leaning over very naturally to carefully wipe the side of his cheek—where an over-excited female fan had broken through the security line and left a clear lipstick mark.
Her movements were very gentle, and after she finished wiping, she even placed Landon's head directly on her lap, helping him gently massage his temples.
Landon closed his eyes and let her handle it, smelling the very faint scent of perfume and youthful aura on her.
"Tomorrow at 3 PM, the cover shoot for 'Entertainment Weekly' at Santa Monica," Zoe reported the upcoming work to him while massaging. "At 7 PM, dinner with Jimmy Iovine and potential brand partners, location undecided, Tracy will notify later."
The car drove into the quiet neighborhood of Sherman Oaks and finally stopped in front of a familiar modern-style villa.
This was Landon's residence in Los Angeles, returning again after nearly three months away.
The car door opened, and Landon stepped onto the slate path in front of his house.
Before he could press the doorbell, the villa's door was suddenly pulled open from the inside. A tall figure rushed out with a gust of fragrance; it was Rachel McAdams.
She seemed to have been waiting, completely ignoring Tracy and Zoe who got out of the car afterward, and not caring at all whether it was daytime or if the location was an outdoor entrance.