American Entertainment 1978: New York Night Fever

"No problem, let's go with these terms." Amanda readily agreed.

As soon as he finished speaking, cheers erupted in the living room. Jimmy and the others were overjoyed and thanked Amanda profusely, promising that once they received their share, they would settle the corresponding amount with Amanda and wouldn't let her bear the prepayment costs alone.

After everyone had signed, Tino enthusiastically opened a bottle of champagne. The golden liquid poured into the stemmed glass, foaming everywhere, instantly pushing the atmosphere to a climax.

Zeke put his arm around Judy, and the two of them raised their glasses side by side, toasting with everyone in celebration.

The glasses clinked crisply, champagne spilled, and laughter erupted. At that moment, everyone was certain that they were standing on the fast track to the future.

"Zek," Judy whispered in his ear amidst the laughter, her warm breath carrying the scent of alcohol, "the way you were negotiating just now...it was so captivating. That arrogance and confidence of throwing your fate onto the table like a gambling chip, it was simply..."

She seemed unable to find the right words to describe it, so she gently bit Zik's earlobe.

Zeke was enjoying the thrill of being adored by his girlfriend. He could feel Judy's body getting slightly hot, and he couldn't help but feel a little tempted himself.

But the next second, he also caught a glimpse of fear in Judy's eyes.

"What's wrong?"

She glanced around the luxurious villa, her voice lowering even further:

"But that performance-based clause... is it really okay? Platinum sales are no joke. What if we don't reach that target..."

"Don't worry, baby." Zeke cupped her face, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks as if soothing a frightened little animal. "In America, everything is a gamble. I'm confident I can win, and I can afford to lose."

"Besides, I need to earn more money to support you. I want you to no longer have to hide, no longer have to be afraid of your controlling mother, and I want you to be able to walk out of this villa with confidence."

Feeling the body in his arms completely relax because of this promise, and nestle softly into his embrace, Qi Ke was in a great mood.

"You haven't finished praising me yet! What do you mean, 'absolutely'?"

"You're so handsome...it makes my legs go weak."

"Then I need to check." Zike suddenly bent down, put one hand under her knees and the other hand around her back, and with a little effort, he picked her up horizontally.

"Ah, Zeke!" Judy exclaimed, then blushed and wrapped her arms around his neck, sinking into his broad chest.

Jimmy immediately whistled loudly.

"Hey, take it easy! This villa's chandelier isn't insured, you two better not shake it down!"

"Zick, don't listen to him. Even if it gets damaged, Larry can still reimburse you."

Jimmy and Marco started making a racket, so Anton simply turned on the stereo and became a makeshift DJ. The dynamic melody flowed slowly, instantly filling the atmosphere with excitement.

What was originally a serious meeting room quickly transformed into a relaxed and lively mini-party, with laughter filling the entire Beverly Hills villa.

To the northwest of the villa, five kilometers away at Mount Holmby, the Neil Bogarts' luxurious mansion stands in stark contrast to the bustling activity here.

Night had fallen, and a cool breeze was blowing. Joyce had just finished a high-end dinner party. She casually kicked off her high heels, took off her exquisite and gorgeous evening gown, and stepped onto the terrace on the soft carpet.

She nestled gently against Neil's back, her arms encircling his neck, her red lips close to his ear, her voice tinged with a hint of displeasure:

"Neil, I just heard from the editor of the Los Angeles Times that Evelyn Foster has been pestering the media to report on Casablanca abducting her daughter."

Neil calmly raised his hand and placed it on the back of his wife's hand, showing no sign of panic: "I know about this, darling, don't worry, Larry already informed me."

Joyce snorted coldly upon hearing this.

"That's not all. This kid has been making a lot of moves lately. He wrote a new song for the Spiders, hired Larry as his manager, and even had a team of lawyers from Brooklyn come to the company to audit the accounts. It's obvious he's wary of us."

Seeing his wife's annoyed expression, Neil chuckled softly, turned around, and gently kissed her forehead: "Do you think I can't see through his little scheme?"

"That night when we were discussing the collaboration, you seemed too eager and too purposeful, which scared him off. He's young and struggling all alone; he was just doing this to protect himself."

Joyce frowned instantly, raising her hand to coldly slap his hand away: "So you don't support me getting his exclusive agency contract?"

"Of course I support him," Neil immediately reassured him. "This kid has a very bright future; he's a promising talent worth betting on. But you need to be patient with this kind of person."

Joyce's displeasure lessened somewhat, and she gently nudged Neil's leg with her calf, her tone softening: "Then tell me, what should I do?"

A gentle evening breeze swept across the terrace, ruffling Neil's hair. He gazed at the faint lights in the direction of Beverly Hills and spoke slowly:

"I was telling the truth that night, honey. I really saw my younger self in Zeke, someone from humble beginnings who was eager for success and would stop at nothing to achieve it."

"But what I admire most about him is his business acumen and his willingness to challenge authority. When I discussed the positioning of the 'Macho Man' album and 'YMCA' with him, he didn't act subservient just because I'm the boss."

"He clearly pointed out the potential dangers of the album cover and song titles being too homosexual, and insisted that the singles should be de-homosexualized, focusing on brotherhood and a carnival atmosphere that are suitable for everyone."

"Now it seems that this strategy was absolutely correct. The album received polarized reviews, but the songwriter and lyricist did not suffer any negative publicity. The sales of the single 'YMCA' continued to soar, completely absorbing all the positive buzz."

He turned to Joyce: "Joyce, did you have this kind of market segmentation thinking and business acumen when you were in eleventh grade? He not only writes songs and understands songwriting, but he also understands the market, the audience, and how to make money. That's the most valuable thing."

Joyce grew impatient with his long-winded speech, reached out and grabbed his tie, her tone both coquettish and urging: "Stop praising him, you haven't told us what we should do yet."

Neil took her hand in his, his fingertips gently caressing the smooth pearl bracelet on her wrist:

"I don't have a foolproof plan, but I know my younger self all too well. It's always like this when young people are chasing their dreams: first, they deliberately imitate the people they admire, and over time, they slowly become the people they aspire to be."

"Do you know what he did for that girl? Harry Finn just spoke to me, and Zeke is like a saint compared to Brooklyn and everyone else in the city."

"So?" Joyce loosened her tie, picked up her wine glass, and curled her red lips into a mocking smile. "This isn't a fairy tale, honey. In America, saints either die or are hung on the wall as paintings."

"So, don't rush. We don't need to push him; just stand still. Successful people are like lighthouses to him; as he climbs higher, he will naturally gravitate towards us."