Idol Pursuits, page 6
Doheny Estate in Beverly Hills was the chosen location for the music video. Its extravagant gardens, in particular, were a perfect stand-in for the upscale mansion the spies were tasked with infiltrating. The grounds reminded Grace of the location for parts of Sunmi’s “Heart Burn” video. She decided that if Steve and Dalton could make theirs look half as good, they’d earn first dibs on any Made in Heaven project for eternity.
The shoot itself went smoothly until the last day. One of the manor’s signature locations was the formal garden. Its most prominent feature was a tall, multi-tiered fountain at the end of a narrow grass lawn surrounded by neatly-trimmed hedges and statuary. It was here that the crew was rehearsing a complex tracking shot when trouble brewed.
“Um, Herr director, we have an urgent issue.” Grace had been receiving an earful from an irate bride-to-be but was getting nowhere in settling the matter. She tried to avoid bothering Steve as he already had his hands full dealing with a niggling technical issue. Still, the woman couldn’t be reasoned with. Grace had no choice.
“Can’t you see I’m busy?” Steve snapped. “We’re losing light, and this damned dolly rail is warped.”
“Well, like it or not, you’re about to get hit by Hurricane Molly too.” Grace pointed a thumb over her shoulder at the enraged woman stomping towards them, followed by a sizeable entourage of well-dressed people.
“What the hell?” Steve didn’t have time to ponder the possibilities before Molly was upon him. “I need you out of here! Immediately!” she shrieked.
“First of all, who do you think you are barging onto a hot film set like this? And secondly, we have a permit.”
“That’s the problem,” interceded Grace. “So does she.”
“Huh?” An impatient Molly rudely thrust the pertinent documents into Steve’s face. Finally realizing the problem wouldn’t be easily dismissed, he tasked cinematographer Dalton with solving the camera dolly issue. This left him free to tackle the irate bride. Retrieving his own permit, Steve compared it to Molly’s. The relevant times and locations were identical. “Someone at the office screwed up,” he concluded.
“Yeah? So? We have a rehearsal scheduled for right now. The wedding’s tomorrow. Get this crap out of our way!”
“Yeah? So? I have a music video scheduled for right now. Go rehearse somewhere else!”
“Listen, you living example of a bobblehead. I have 25 guests who flew in from all over the country. We need this space. Leave, or I’ll call the police!” said Molly.
“Listen, you human equivalent of a participation award, I have a cast and crew of 35 from all over the world. We were here first. I can call the police, too,” countered Steve.
“Go ahead.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
“I’m dialing now.”
“Good. Need the number?”
Grace had seen enough. “Stop, you two. Maybe we can work something out.” Tempers cooled temporarily but would occasionally flare up again as negotiations went nowhere. By now, the wedding guests were standing on one side of the lawn behind Molly while the video cast and crew stood on the other side behind Steve. It reminded Grace of a classic movie standoff between two rival gangs. Bel-Air versus Central Casting. The rumble was on. In actuality, the scene looked positively ridiculous, neither side willing to back down for fear of losing face. Perhaps they’d break into song or dance a stylized knife fight to settle matters. Only in Hollywood.
Finally, it became apparent that time was of the essence. Eventually, the sun would sink too low to either film the video or rehearse the wedding. Everyone would lose. The pressure on both parties to find a solution was mounting.
While the band discussed the standoff, Sun-hee suggested a compromise. That got Grace’s creative juices flowing. “You know, it just might work.” She approached the dueling parties with the idea. “What if we incorporated the rehearsal into our video? Work it into the story somehow?”
Steve and Molly started to protest, but both ceased simultaneously as they realized the idea’s practicality.
“Everyone in your wedding party would need to sign an image release,” said Steve, partially acquiescing while throwing in a sneer for good measure.
“We just need the lawn area, not the raised terrace,” said Molly, meeting him halfway, though not without a leer in return.
And with that, the foundations of an agreement were laid. After a quick chat with the cast and crew (Dalton had by then fixed the dolly problem), an improvised scenario was blocked, and the shot was filmed simultaneously with the wedding rehearsal. Both finished approximately at the same time. As the sun slipped below the horizon and the park staff began clearing the estate, Molly and Steve shook hands and wished each other the best.
“Crisis avoided,” said Steve after the wedding party departed.
“Amazing what a little reasonable compromise can accomplish,” said Grace.
“They could sure use you in Congress.”
* * *
Following Made in Heaven’s impressive feat on the Trent Holcomb tour, Voxatone was eager to sign them. “I’ve been advocating hard for you,” said Alvin. “The label’s anxious to get you into their stable. I’ll messenger over a preliminary contract. Look it over and tell me what you think.”
The contract arrived that afternoon. The band was on the verge of achieving a long-term goal, but it would come at an unpleasant cost. As forewarned, they’d have to part ways with Magnus and Cesar first. The girls opted to break the news at the studio. If they were hoping for an amicable separation from their existing management team, it did not go well.
“So the first sign of success, and you ditch us?” Magnus was flabbergasted. “Do we look like doormats?”
“Magnus, it’s not our choice. All of Voxatone’s artists have to agree to that clause.”
“When I think of all the times we could have walked,” said Magnus.
“Should have,” added Cesar.
“Should have.” Magnus nodded.
“Our goal was always to get a record contract,” said Grace.
“It was ours, too. Now, you reach it and cut us loose?”
“Magnus, the entire time you were with us, we never even sniffed a contract besides the known impossibility of winning the Showdown. You can’t blame us if we’re excited to get an offer.”
“Voxatone has no history with K-Pop. They’ll probably stick you under world music or something.”
“It’s better than playing backyard birthday parties for kids. And don’t forget that debacle you foisted on us last year. That trainwreck of a video director was all on you.”
“We got you into K-Fest. Where’s the gratitude?”
“We obviously intend to pay you,” said Heather. “It’s not like we’re expecting free labor.”
“Since you brought up pay —” Magnus snapped his fingers in Cesar’s direction. “Find that expense sheet, will you?” Cesar punched some numbers into his laptop. Once satisfied with the results, he turned the screen towards Magnus, who examined it closely. “Print it.”
Erin gathered the papers that emerged from the printer. Grace and Heather’s eyes widened. The others gathered around as well.
“I’m not saying we agree to this amount, but surely we can come to terms. Right?”
“We kept the receipts. You can’t short us.”
“What about installments?”
“We’ve been in this business too long to accept layaway plans.”
“Magnus, you know we can’t pay this lump sum.”
“If you don’t want trouble, that’s exactly what you’ll do.”
The following days proceeded in a blur for Grace, who spearheaded the effort to negotiate the Voxatone contract while trying to resolve their current management dilemma. The rest of the group offered help but were designated simple tasks only. Grace didn’t want too many chefs overlooking essential details.
The group met daily to discuss their contract preferences. That effort proved all for naught as Alvin messengered a copy of the standard Voxatone agreement the following week. “You’re putting the cart before the horse,” he stated. “You’ll have more freedom to negotiate any extensions. If you make it that far.”
“We have to discuss this as a group first,” said Grace.
“Sleep on it. And don’t worry. Voxatone’ll take care of you. If I have any say about it. Remember, they don’t just sign anyone.”
Later that day, Grace finished a draft of the financial package they intended to offer Magnus and Cesar. She had secured a loan using the band’s assets as collateral, but only if her parents agreed to co-sign. One asset remained off-limits, however. Heather, in particular, refused to include intellectual property rights. Lacking that, the final amount fell below their managers’ demands. Grace hoped they’d see the reality of the situation and accept it.
The meeting was held at a Denny’s restaurant in Hollywood. Magnus and Cesar were playing hardball, refusing to meet at The Hovel as they had done so often before. The pair remained stone-faced as they read the proposal. Gone was all sense of the familiarity bred by the hours, days, and months they had shared together. In its place was an icy determinism, delinked from any emotion.
“As you are, no doubt, already aware,” said Magnus in a monotone voice, “the contributions we provided to the success of Made in Heaven were substantial.”
Grace rolled her eyes and held one hand in the air to arrest his spiel. “We are, no doubt, already aware. C’mon, Magnus, cut the lawyer crap. It’s us you’re talking to. Can’t we handle this like well-adjusted adults?” She pulled out her proposed settlement agreement and handed it to Magnus. He read the document together with Cesar.
Without discussion, Magnus slid the document back while uttering a single word. “No.”
“Magnus, we can’t do any more.”
“You’re short. Find a way.”
The drive home was tense. Grace tried to reason with Heather. “The label is only interested in our future recordings. That leaves our existing IP in our hands as an asset. We need to muster every resource to get out of this mess.”
“I poured my heart and soul into those songs. We all did.”
“And how’s that different from signing away our future rights?”
“The label can help us build on that legacy. Scale up.”
“Our managers got us to this point.”
“Why are they being so mercenary?”
“Look. We’ll use the advance from the label to pay off the loan. Once we start making records, any remaining debts can be paid off with that income. Our IP doesn’t have to go anywhere.”
Heather sighed deeply. “It just seems wrong.
It took persistence, but Grace’s patience and sensible reasoning eventually overcame Heather’s reluctance to sign off on the IP rights. The loan was subsequently secured, and the severance agreement was paid out. Magnus and Cesar remained terse throughout the exchange. Finally, they accepted that it was time for the partnership to part ways.
The awkward part was over. Now, the actual test began. With no money left to hire a lawyer, Grace requested help. The group analyzed every clause in the Voxatone contract to ensure they were not getting screwed. Several issues stood out. The girls flinched at the proposed contract length. Even if things worked out, they’d be locked in for seven years and unable to negotiate a better deal. They agreed to ask for a shorter initial length. If it worked out, they could re-sign. If not, they could shop around for a new deal.
The label also proposed a 360 arrangement, which meant the company would be entitled to a share of non-record revenues, such as touring, merchandising, and publishing. Mindy suggested holding out for clear language describing the label’s obligations under such an agreement. “In other words, what would the band be getting in return?” She also requested formal assurance that they’d retain the final say in how their image was marketed. “We girls face much more uncertainty in this industry than boys do. Our careers can abruptly end if our appearance isn’t up to par. I’m not sure Voxatone understands that completely. They’re new to K-Pop. This is one area we have more experience in.”
Erin questioned the meaning of one clause. “Why does it say the label is not obligated to release any of our records?”
“That’s probably just to protect themselves in case we prove incompetent,” said Vanessa.
“Yeah. Think about it,” said Grace. “Why would they bother signing us if they didn’t want to release our music? Anything else?”
“We could really upset the apple cart by demanding the removal of all M&Ms from our dressing room except for the brown ones,” said Vanessa. When her suggestion was met with unparalleled disdain, she added, “Someone has to eat those rejects.”
The proposed alterations were forwarded to Alvin, who called within an hour to say they had a deal. As feared, the company refused to relent on contract length. The group arranged a date to appear at the Voxatone offices for a signing ceremony. “Trust me. Big things are about to happen,” said Alvin in closing.
6
STARSTRUCK
When Vanessa realized the full dance potential of the “Elixir” concept, her joy knew no bounds. With an in-story mission codenamed ‘Clever Fox,’ she envisioned cute, animal-inspired movements as a motif to build the dance around. The final product marked a new milestone in her artistic development.
Except for “Feel the Heat,” which her friend Danya Kay had choreographed, Made in Heaven’s dances had previously leaned towards playful and charming. Vanessa’s command of the craft was increasingly evident with each project. She was heavily influenced by early second-generation K-Pop, and this was reflected in her approach. “Elixir” retained these inspirational qualities but represented a subtle tonal shift towards sexy and sophisticated. The dance featured numerous iconic moves that long after became widely associated with the group.
The girls took to learning the dance eagerly, pouring long hours into making the foxlike moves appear convincing in their stylized way. Vanessa managed to earn school credit for the piece and even got Made in Heaven invited to perform it during the end-of-semester dance recital. Her mentor, Danya Kay, profusely praised the achievement and admitted wishing she’d done it herself. Vanessa took great pride in seeing the worldwide interest in her dance. It instantly became the group’s most covered routine online.
Peers within the Dance department of St. Ignatius had long felt Vanessa was wasting time with K-Pop. They argued that her “lowbrow” (in their words) focus was unbecoming of a full-scholarship dance student. These criticisms steadily faded as praise for her achievements continued to roll in. Supporters countered that with so few opportunities to practice their art in commercial settings, open-minded choreographers stood the best chance of succeeding.
As a comeback, the Queen Bee Infusion release was deemed a modest success by all measures. While not a smash hit, sales were brisk enough to receive attention from some of the more diligent reviewers of K-Pop. The mini-album even briefly appeared on the lower end of the World Music charts. Their fanbase, self-dubbed the Celestials, mushroomed in size as a result.
The “Elixir” video enjoyed respectable popularity on YouTube, quickly jumping to 13 million views. While this remained a far cry from what agency groups could expect, for an indie act, it was a triumph. The increased exposure also drew attention to their earlier, less famous songs, whose numbers were also boosted. Made in Heaven was now being included in articles with titles such as “Underrated K-Pop” or “Emerging K-Pop You Need to Know About.”
* * *
“We can’t thank you enough for doing this,” said Sun-hee as Steve entered The Hovel with a bag of tools slung over his shoulder. “We know you’ve been busy.”
“No worries. It’s a refreshing change of pace from all the fool’s errands I’ve been involved with lately.”
“I hope you’re not referring to ‘Elixir,” said Vanessa.
“No. That was therapy in comparison. I just finished a zombie apocalypse movie set in a history museum. The heroes survive by wearing plate armor from the displays.”
“That’s actually genius,” said Sun-hee with a laugh.
“Not gonna lie, I’d pay to see that,” said Vanessa.
“It flopped at the box office, though,” noted Steve. “For some reason, they titled the film Temporarily Closed. Now, theaters are suing the production company because moviegoers immediately went home when they saw that name on the marquee. The mix-up killed their box office for weeks.”
“That’s epic.”
“I wish I could see the humor in it, but the producers are now using that story as an excuse to rob the crew of money they owe us. My bank account is suffering as a result.”
“Living on a shoestring is our specialty around here. Thus, the hand-me-down fan.”
“I doubt it’ll get better soon. My other gig was a slasher movie set in biblical times called The Axe of the Apostles.”
“Blasphemous and bloody. All rolled into one,” said Vanessa.
“Sure, but a threatened boycott from a religious organization means its release date has been delayed. Once again, no money coming in.”
“Funny how handwringing about cancel culture only seems to work one way.”
With his screed over, Steve assessed the unpacked contents of the box on the living room floor. Vanessa’s aunt had donated a used (but still working) ceiling fan to help cool off the dining nook, which generally received little circulation. However, none of the girls knew how to install it, so they talked Steve into volunteering in exchange for a free dinner courtesy of Sun-hee.
“What’s the diagnosis?” asked Vanessa.
