"If the podcasts were already deleted, then why did it still have such a big impact that the governnt decided to change the rules?" I asked, frowning slightly.
Lando paused for a mont, looking as if he was deep in thought or maybe he was deciding whether or not to tell the truth.
"I don’t know the full story yet," he said after a mont. "But my source told that the president’s daughter was the one who urged parliant to revise the law. No one knows exactly why, but it seems she knew Helena personally."
The lines on my forehead deepened. As far as I could rember, I’d never t the president’s daughter.
All I knew was that her na was Anya Garrange, and I had no idea she was even interested in politics. The last ti I checked, the dia said she was busy running her own fashion brand.
So why did she suddenly step into politics, and go as far as changing a law that affected the entertainnt industry?
Or maybe... it had nothing to do with at all. Perhaps she had another friend in the industry who went through sothing similar, and she simply wanted to help them.
Yeah, that sounded like the most reasonable explanation for now.
"But even if the regulation hasn’t officially changed yet, I still wouldn’t give you such a long contract," Lando said. "Three years is enough to see whether a newcor has potential. And if they want to leave ZTE afterward, then let them. At least the company will know who really wants to stay."
His statent caught off guard, because usually, companies would never allow newcors they had trained to just walk away to another agency.
It made sense though because after all, they’d invested a lot of ti and money to build that person’s career.
Still, three years did sound fair. So people beca famous quickly, but most needed that much ti to really make a na for themselves.
That’s why most actors would likely stay with Zentra after three years because switching agencies before your reputation was stable would be plain stupid.
"I see," I said softly. "That’s actually a fair rule."
I went back to reading the contract carefully, and my eyes widened the mont I saw that the company would only take 20% of the profit, while I’d get 80%.
"H-Husband... the governnt didn’t force the company to only take twenty percent, right?" I asked, my voice unsure.
No matter how I looked at it, it didn’t make sense. Taking only twenty percent from a newcor was far too little. The company had to pay all the staff working under , and usually, that money ca from the percentage they took from my inco.
That’s why most agencies took at least 35% from their celebrities’ inco, and sotis even more if they managed every detail of the actor’s career.
Back then, DN Entertainnt took fifty percent of mine, so it felt strange—almost suspicious—that ZTE would only want twenty.
The last thing I wanted was for the staff to be underpaid. If that happened, they’d probably treat poorly, and I didn’t want the people working for to suffer.
"No, the governnt didn’t regulate that," Lando said. "But twenty percent sounds fair enough for you."
The way he emphasized ’you’ made realize I was probably the only actress getting this kind of special treatnt.
If the other celebrities under ZTE ever saw my contract, they’d probably throw into the woods and let a hungry bear have .
"I don’t think the company can pay the staff properly if they only take twenty percent of my inco," I said carefully. "Don’t you think... thirty percent would make more sense?"
"No one’s going to be underpaid," Lando replied smoothly. "The company will handle that. You don’t need to worry."
I was about to say sothing else, but Marissa suddenly cut in. "Helcia, why are you worrying about that?" she asked with a light laugh. "If the company only wants to take twenty percent of your inco, just let them. There’s no harm in that."
I bit my lower lip, glancing between the two of them. It felt like this was sothing they’d already talked about in their private chat before.
Still, Marissa wasn’t wrong. Since Lando had made it clear that the company wouldn’t underpay the staff, there really wasn’t anything for to stress over. Besides, Marissa would still get her five percent share, so she had nothing to lose even if the company only took twenty percent.
That ant I’d be earning around seventy-five percent of my total inco, an incredibly high amount compared to what I used to make in my past life. It was hard not to feel a little amazed.
"Then... I guess I really don’t have to worry about it," I said at last, exhaling softly. "I’ll sign the contract."
Lando’s lips curved into a faint smile as he handed a pen. "Good," he said quietly, his voice low and steady. "Welco to Zentra."
I took the pen, and for a brief mont, our fingers brushed. That tiny touch sent a small spark through , making my heart skip a beat. I quickly looked down, pretending to focus on the docunt in front of .
The soft sound of the pen gliding over the paper felt strangely final, like I was closing one Chapter of my life and stepping into a new one.
But maybe that was exactly what was happening. With this signature, I had officially turned a new page in my life. I might not be able to forget my past completely, but at least all the bad people from back then could no longer put shackles around my ankles.
When I finished, I placed the pen down and let out a quiet breath. "There. It’s done."
Lando nodded. "You made the right choice," he said in his calm, deep voice.
Marissa clapped her hands softly, smiling from ear to ear. "Congratulations, Helcia. You’re officially part of the company now."
Reviews
All reviews (0)