Entertainment: Starting as a Succubus, Taking Hollywood by Storm

Chapter 29: The Young Prodigy's Path

Back in Los Angeles, Martin's schedule became packed.

He had to finish shooting the remaining scenes for The Parent Trap, discuss the publishing details for his next book, Ready Player One, with Random House, and keep track of the progress as his new script, The Sixth Sense, circulated among the major studios.

Thankfully, Jeff, his new and efficient agent, took on most of the workload, handling negotiations and managing contacts.

Once The Parent Trap wrapped, Martin and his father, Grant, took a flight to New York to meet Tommy Mottola.

…

New York City – Columbia Records Headquarters

In a grand, palace-like office at the top of the Columbia Records building, Martin met the tall, handsome CEO himself.

"Hey, Mottola."

"Hey, Grant."

The two men embraced, patting each other on the back, clearly old friends. After they parted, Mottola looked at Martin with interest.

Martin quickly greeted him, "Hello, Mr. Mottola."

"Hello, young Martin. Do you remember me? I met you when you were little. If only your father had converted to Judaism, I might've been your godfather by now."

"Not a chance," Grant laughed. "We're all devout Christians."

"Oh? So what brings this devout Christian to see an 'outsider' like me? To burn me at the stake?"

They shared a knowing look and burst into laughter.

Martin chuckled along politely, completely missing the joke.

"Alright, Mottola, let's get down to business. You've heard my son's music, right? What do you think?"

"What do I think? You're asking me what I think? Haven't you heard it yet?"

Grant looked slightly embarrassed. Truth be told, he hadn't. He'd been busy lately and only managed to carve out some time for this meeting, having Martin send the demo directly to Mottola beforehand.

Mottola shook his head with a sigh. "If you'd heard it, you wouldn't have to ask. You're lucky, Grant—you have a prodigy for a son. His music—"

Mottola paused, choosing his words carefully. "How to put it… His style of unaccompanied vocal music is groundbreaking. It's not like traditional a cappella, where singers mimic instruments. It's an entirely new form of vocal music that uses diverse tones and timbres to convey rhythm and melody."

"And even more remarkable is his talent for composition. Every piece on this EP is a classic—a timeless one."

"I'll put it this way: his musical talent rivals that of the greatest masters—Mozart, Beethoven, Liszt."

Grant was speechless, shocked to hear such high praise. Was his son's musical ability really that extraordinary?

"Mottola, isn't that a bit of an exaggeration?"

"No, not at all."

Mottola walked over to a small bar and asked, "Grant, what'll it be? Bourbon? Gin? Or tequila?"

"Tequila, thanks."

"And you, young Martin?"

"Milk."

Mottola scratched his head, a little flustered. "I don't have any milk here."

"Juice, then?"

"Uh… I don't have that either."

Martin looked at his father. "If he allows it, I wouldn't mind trying some of that fine tequila."

"Not a chance!" Grant said firmly.

"Alright, then just get him a glass of ice water," Grant said with a chuckle.

"Alright, ice water it is," Mottola replied, pouring a glass and handing it to Martin with a sheepish grin. "Sorry about the lack of kid-friendly options."

"No problem," Martin replied, taking a sip of the water.

"Now, let's get down to business," Mottola said as he settled on the couch across from them, leaning back with a thoughtful expression.

"First off, let's confirm one thing. Martin is the songwriter, and he holds all the rights to the five tracks on this mini-album, correct?"

"Yes, he does," Grant confirmed with a nod.

"Good. Second, Martin hasn't signed with any other label yet, correct?"

"No, he hasn't."

"Excellent."

"Columbia would be interested in signing Martin to a recording contract. However, we'd also like to acquire a 50% share in the rights to all his original compositions."

"That's not happening!" Grant immediately objected.

The room quickly heated up as the two old friends began an intense negotiation, all signs of their previous camaraderie vanishing.

Martin watched the exchange with keen interest.

In the end, Mottola compromised.

The deal was for Martin to sign a three-year contract with Columbia Records. During this period, Columbia would hold a 20% share of the rights to all his original works, while also assisting in the production and distribution of his music.

Since Martin had already completed this album's recording, Columbia's responsibility would primarily be in distribution and promotion.

Once the details were finalized, Mottola's assistant prepared the contract, which both sides signed.

As soon as the business was concluded, Mottola and Grant reverted to their warm, friendly selves, chatting away as if they'd never argued.

Martin blinked in amusement at the seamless shift. Business friendships sure are something.

…

With the record deal settled, Martin returned to Los Angeles, and his life resumed its bustling pace.

However, this time, he was busy with more ordinary concerns—like handling his curious classmates' endless questions about the movie industry and fending off Dorothy and Lindsay's constant attention.

"Martin, try this chocolate I brought you!"

"Chocolate's overrated. Martin, look—my mom made these cookies, and they're way better."

"Martin, can you help me with this problem? I'm stuck."

"Dorothy, you're not even in our class. Why do you keep hanging around?"

"Lindsay, you wanna fight?"

"Martin, she's threatening me! This barbaric girl!"

Martin sighed. "Enough, both of you. Give me a minute's peace."

The room fell silent.

Nearby, young Mark Zuckerberg watched enviously, thinking, If only I had two girls fighting over me. I wouldn't even care if they were pretty.

At home, Martin received a call from Jessica.

The young actress was about to start filming for a small, relatively unknown production, where she'd be playing a minor role with barely any lines.

"Martin, I'd originally landed a speaking part, but then some connected kid swooped in and took it. Word is that little tramp cozied up to the casting director, doing God-knows-what. Ugh, what a shameless jerk."

Since Martin's return to LA, Jessica had taken to calling him frequently. Now that they'd gotten closer, she no longer bothered with any pretense of sweetness and instead spoke candidly.

Martin didn't mind. After all, a truly "well-behaved" girl wouldn't have lasted long in Hollywood. Most likely, she'd either be chewed up by the industry or rejected for being unadaptable.

[•———•——•———•]

𝙥𝗮𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙤𝙣(.)𝙘𝙤𝙢/𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙊𝙛𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

✨ • 𝗘𝘅𝗰𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀: 𝙂𝙚𝙩 𝟲𝟬+ 𝙖𝙙𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙙 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙚𝙡𝙨𝙚.