"Taylor... Swift?" Adrian raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, no wonder she looked sowhat familiar.
"Yes," the girl in front of him obviously misunderstood his reaction, even more proudly puffing out her chest, "I have an excellent voice, and I write my own songs and lyrics. There’s absolutely no need for any more training!"
"Taylor!" A voice ca over at this ti, carrying dissatisfaction and anxiety, a middle-aged woman around forty years old, with a face sowhat similar to Taylor’s. Without a doubt, this was her mother.
"Mr. Cowell." The two directors in charge of scouting new talent in the reception room also stood up imdiately.
"Don’t mind , I was about to go back, but I heard the argunt over here and was curious, so I ca to have a look." Adrian waved his hand, signaling everyone to sit down, "Can soone tell exactly what’s going on here?"
Taylor, who hadn’t quite settled onto the sofa, was eager to stand up again, but her mother gave her a stern look, forcing her to reluctantly sit back and shut her mouth. Adrian slightly pursed his lips, observing her. With the information he had now rembered, she was indeed a restless girl who liked to stand out. It appeared that her family situation wasn’t bad either; getting her in line would likely take so effort.
From the mouths of those two directors, Adrian quickly learned the whole story. Simply put, Taylor Swift had decided to beco a singer since she was a child and had sung in bars back in Pennsylvania. Two years ago, she began sending her demos to various record companies in search for a contract, but, unfortunately, all the companies had without exception rejected her.
Although it was a setback, Taylor did not give up. She kept on singing and songwriting while consistently sending more of her demos to other record companies. Then, after entering 2003, a subsidiary of Universal Records saw potential in her demo and passed it to the parent company. Universal Records, after reviewing her material, agreed with the subsidiary and began attempts to contact the Swift family.
What followed was what happened today. Upon receiving the news, an elated Taylor ca to Los Angeles with her mother for a eting. However, she was full of confidence, and only after her arrival did she learn that it wasn’t about imdiately producing a record as she had imagined, but rather about undergoing training for two years or even longer.
The quite proud girl felt deceived, but Universal was a powerful company. The most popular female singers in recent years were all under their roof. She was reluctant to give up on such an opportunity, and that’s what led to the scene just now.
"You are indeed a... very confident girl, Miss Swift," Adrian said with a smile.
"Of course, I can sing, compose, and write lyrics; I can’t see any reason why I would need further training," Taylor imdiately sprang up, looking visibly upset.
"Taylor!" Her mother, sitting next to her, called out with so headache, yanking her back into her seat, then extended her hand to Adrian with a slight smile, "Hello, Mr. Adrian Cowell, I’m Adria Swift, Taylor’s mother. I apologize for the trouble."
"No, no, no, I’ve seen many confident kids, but not many with such confidence," Adrian laughed as he shook her hand, then added sincerely, "I’m serious."
"Wait, I know what you’re going to say, but there is sothing I want to clarify," Taylor interjected at this point, ignoring her mother’s look and began to justify herself, "I’m not opposed to training, per se, it’s the structured training I have issues with. Many things can be learned while working. I have a lot of talent in this area, I can prove it. Undergoing the sa structured training as soone who is completely clueless about music would just be a waste of ti."
She did have so brains after all—she knew where her strengths lay, and wasn’t so blindly confident and arrogant. Adrian silently nodded to himself.
"Empty claims won’t do, Miss Swift," he said leisurely, spreading his hands open and gesturing.
Taylor wasn’t angry; instead, she had a look of ’I knew you were going to say that’ on her face, glanced back at the guitar case she had brought along, then raised her chin and stared at him: "May I?"
"Oh, but of course," Adrian made a gesture of invitation.
"This song was one I wrote when feeling frustrated by the courses at school I wasn’t good at, I wrote it years ago, then later I modified the tune and the lyrics, it’s quite popular when I perform at bars," she said, while strumming the guitar strings.
Then, as the smooth syllables followed the vibration of the strings, Taylor started singing. The lyrics and lody were not complicated, typically country, no wonder she said earlier that she was going to be the best country music singer—she had set her goals early on. As for her voice, there were so distinctive qualities, slightly magnetic and very pure; without so real talent, even being hyped wouldn’t keep her popular for long.
After she finished singing, Adrian began to lightly clap his hands, "Not bad, Miss Swift, quite good."
Taylor, who had a proud expression from the start, suddenly bead, her curved eyes shining brighter. Getting a complint from the Miracle Director was enough to make her even more proud.
However, the next sentence imdiately deflated her cheeks, "But you’re not yet at the point where you could decline training."
"Don’t rush, Miss Swift," Adrian said with a smile, raising his hand to stop the girl who was about to lose her temper, "I know it’s difficult to convince a confident child. Why don’t we illustrate with an example?"
He whispered a few words to a manager, who then stood up and left; only then did he turn back to look at Swift, who was starting to puff up again, and asked rather impolitely, "Do you think you’re beautiful, Miss Swift?"
That question stunned both Taylor and her mother for a mont before they involuntarily showed a tinge of dissatisfaction. Wasn’t this question rather rude? But Adrian, as if he didn’t see their expressions, simply stood up and gestured for them to follow, smiling enigmatically, "Let’s go upstairs, as I said, it’s better to prove points with examples."
Though she had no idea what he intended to do, the defiant Taylor still got up to follow him. Her mother seed to think it was inappropriate but ultimately indulged her daughter, and they headed to the makeup room together.
"This might take so ti, please listen to them, dear," Adrian chuckled at the young girl after speaking to the makeup artist.
By now, Taylor had a pretty good guess what he intended, but she was just more curious. This sowhat sensible girl knew what she looked like, not ugly, but definitely not beautiful. Of course, to her classmates, she was a freak, but no one dared say it to her face, as anyone who did was turned into a song from head to toe ridiculed by her, and oddly enough, these songs caught on quickly, they were catchy and clever in lyrics, making it clear who she was referring to, yet providing no handle to hold against her, so over ti no one dared provoke her.
So Taylor always boasted about her musical talent and seldom ntioned her looks, though she tried to improve but no matter how well she dressed, she was just... cute. So, at this mont, she was genuinely curious about how this man intended to make her look beautiful.
The makeup artist’s fingers glided over the girl’s tender cheeks and hair, massaging, wiping, cleaning, silent and busy with their tasks, occasionally glancing at the man who was talking relaxedly with her mother, seemingly unconcerned about this side. Taylor felt a bit bored, but thinking of the possible outco, she patiently sat and let them work.
In a daze, Taylor heard soone calling her, yawned, and then opened her eyes—it had been so long that she had dozed off in the chair. But when she completed that action, no further sounds were made. She stared dumbfounded at the mirror, with an incredulous expression.
Golden waves cascaded down in curls, covering most of her forehead, her lashes trimd neatly, with just a thin line of black shadow around her eyes making them pop, yet not compromising the overall delicate look, and just the right shade of red lips, healthy and moist. Particularly the girl in the mirror, who had just woken up, had an indescribable, lazy, and hazy look that was incredibly beautiful.
Finally, Taylor reached out to touch her cheek, and the girl in the mirror did the sa. She was now sure that the beautiful girl in the mirror was herself, and imdiately, an imnse excitent and joy surged in her heart.
"Mom, I..." Taylor jumped from the chair, calling out joyfully, ready to plunge into her mother’s arms, but she quickly realized where she was and stopped, a bit embarrassed.
"Do you understand now?" the man who orchestrated it all asked with a smile while her mother stood beside her, looking both happy and concerned.
"Um... thank you for your guidance, Mr. Cowell, but I... I don’t quite understand," Taylor bowed her head slightly, very honestly replying, no longer with the blindly confident attitude she had before.
A look of approval appeared in Adrian’s eyes, "It’s simple, this is the real purpose of training, teaching you how to fully present your beauty and talent in front of people, through the dia. You have potential, Taylor, I can assure you, I seldom go wrong when it cos to identifying talent, but that doesn’t an you are now a qualified star—understand? I’m talking about a qualified star, not a qualified singer."
Tyler blinked and didn’t speak.
"A true star knows what the dia wants to see, knows what their fans like, knows how to avoid their weaknesses, and knows how to present their best self to the public. Why do many child stars find it hard to continue their success into adulthood? On one hand, it’s because the change is too drastic, and on the other hand, it’s because they don’t know how to present a new version of themselves," Adrian continued.
The girl, although bright, was so only in music. She didn’t understand this kind of manipulative, concept-mixing conversational technique and unconsciously nodded her head.
"I know you’re a proud girl," Adrian said with a slight smile, "so how about this? We’ll set the album release date in the contract for three years from now, in the sumr. Then we establish a training plan and a scoring thod. As long as you can finish your training with distinction and earn recognition ahead of ti, you can release your album earlier. The more training tasks you complete early, the sooner your album can be released. Is that okay?"
Tyler didn’t speak. She bit her lip and looked at her mother after a while. Her mother just smiled at her as always. These matters were always up to the girl herself to decide, her parents hardly ever interfered.
"When the ti cos, will you write songs for ?" the girl finally asked.
For a proud girl like her, the best way to control her was to start with her weakest point, tearing down her confidence bit by bit. Just like now, Adrian had easily left a profound impression on her by picking at her still maturing features, making whatever ca next much easier.
Of course, the whole thing wasn’t simple. Tyler was different from Britney, Christina, and Avril. If he really wanted to make a move, it would certainly take a lot of effort. Adrian didn’t have any strong desire to possess Tyler Swift; it was just that recalling all her information, such a challenging target was too tempting not to try his hand at.
But all that was for later. For now, he’d deal with the current issue, like gan actually not wanting the female lead role in "Transforrs."
"I’ve read the script many tis, and I think it’s silly, and I’m ... just a little young for it," gan had said, cooing and pestering Adrian to switch to another movie.
"Alright, little vixen, no haggling with ," Adrian said bluntly. How could he not know what she was thinking? She didn’t find the role silly or herself too young; her feelings of inferiority were just acting up again. At tis like this, she needed a certain amount of pressure along with encouragent.
"Look, ’Big Fat Liar’’s box office isn’t doing well? It was released in January, and it’s got pretty good reviews," he encouraged her afterward.
"Big Fat Liar," a cody movie, was slotted for the late New Year’s period of January. Although this wasn’t a great release slot, the $12 million box office in the first week still proved the movie had rit. After all, the entire cost of the film was just about that amount, and the critics, despite calling the plot cliché, generally found it to be fun.
"But they say I’m just a pretty face," gan pouted, straddling Adrian and wrapping her arms around his neck.
Indeed, despite the decent reputation, gan did have so highlights in the film, but the critics, rciless as they were, still labeled her as just a pretty face.
"Most sexy and beautiful actresses almost all start out as pretty faces. There’s nothing wrong with that, my little vixen. All you have to do is not see yourself as one and work hard to prove that you’re not," Adrian said while pinching her chin with a smile.
gan didn’t respond. She just climbed onto his chest and after looking up at him for a while, she began poking his chest with a finger: "You always know what to say, Ed. No wonder you can fool so many won."
That sounded as though she knew sothing, but Adrian didn’t care; he just laughed and gave her a kiss: "I’m so glad I could fool you into my arms—is that all right now?"
"Yes, it’s fine now. You should know this is a job that Miracle Director personally asked to take. How many people could refuse?" gan let out a light huff, her coy, pouty expression quite foxy.
Despite the uncertain glimr in her eyes, she clung to him as he exhaled the scorching breath, "Call that again."
"No problem, little fox, you’ll always be my little fox," Adrian said softly, stroking her back, and then as if rembering sothing, he added, "Right, the Sundance Film Festival is coming up. I’m planning to check it out this year. Do you want to co with ? The ski resorts in Park City are beautiful."
But gan just rolled her eyes at him, "If I rember correctly, Mr. Cowell, the Sundance Film Festival starts on the 20th, right? Unfortunately, I have an audition for ’Transforrs’ those days!"
Adrian couldn’t help but laugh in silence.
Though Utah was separated from California by Nevada, Salt Lake City wasn’t far from Los Angeles, especially for soone with access to air travel. However, Adrian seldom attended the Sundance Film Festival. He wasn’t particularly fond of it, and in fact, he didn’t like most film festivals, but it was still necessary to make an appearance once in a while. After all, it was one of the more internationally recognized film festivals in the United States, and showing support was expected.
It wouldn’t take much ti, and sotis... there were nice rewards to be found.
The ding-dong of the doorbell rang out, and Adrian, still in his pajamas, stretched and moved towards the suite door, "Who is it?"
"Ed, haven’t you woken up yet?" an astonished Harvey Weinstein stood at the door.
"What’s the matter? It’s just past 9," Adrian said nonchalantly, gesturing for him to co in.
"Just past 9? Oh, hell, looks like you’ve forgotten everything," Weinstein complained. Then a languid female voice wafted over, "Ed, who is there... wow!"
The young girl who erged from the bedroom let out a shriek and hurriedly pulled her nightgown together at the middle, startled by Weinstein’s presence. She had long, dark hair and a pair of beautiful blue eyes, very pretty, giving a sweet impression.
"Oh, Zoe, sorry, this is Harvey, Harvey Weinstein, the CEO of Miramax," Adrian hurriedly introduced them. "Harvey, this is Zoe, Zoe Deschanel, she’s um..."
"The leading lady in ’All the Real Girls,’ a girl with lots of potential, I know; that film was highly praised at the film festival," Weinstein imdiately took up the conversation.
"Yes," Adrian smiled and then moved to the side of the girl he had hooked up with the night before, gently pinching her chin, "Sorry, dear, it looks like Harvey has sothing he wants to talk to about. Can you give a few minutes? It won’t take long."
With that, he kissed her on the lips.
"No problem, then I’ll go change," Zoe smiled sweetly, returning the kiss before heading back into the bedroom.
After watching her disappear inside, Adrian turned around, then waved his hand in front of Weinstein, who had also been watching Zoe, "Hey, Harvey."
"No wonder you got up so late, she’s quite the looker," Weinstein said with a click of his tongue as he shifted his gaze back.
"Is that what you’re here for?" Adrian joked.
"Of course not, just, you’ve obviously forgotten what we had scheduled," Weinstein spread his hands. (To be continued. If you like this work, welco to qidian to cast your recomndation votes and monthly votes. Your support is my greatest motivation.)
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