1256-1260

*Chapter 1256: Equivalent Exchange*

Over the next twenty years, the world will enter an era of rapid development. Streaming services, built on the foundation of the internet, will completely transform people's lifestyles.

Music is just one part of this transformation. Movies, television, work, social interactions, and daily life will all converge into a virtual world constructed by the internet.

If Anson were to claim now that the hype around virtual currency could outperform stock trading, 99% of people would probably think he was daydreaming.

However, reality has a way of proving people wrong. It happened, reshaping lives in a dramatic and sweeping fashion, infiltrating every aspect of existence.

In this wave of change, Apple stood undeniably at the center of the storm—not just in digital music, but in virtually every area of life.

So, if Anson was considering aligning himself with this trend and stepping into the digital music arena, he believed iTunes was the right choice. There was no reason to worry.

However, Lucas and Edgar didn’t see things the same way.

On one hand, Apple’s foray into digital music had no inherent advantages. Ignoring the formidable competition for a moment, Sony Music was widely considered a market-shaping powerhouse, while Apple was merely a "computer company" dabbling in new territory.

On the other hand, even within Apple’s specialty—computers—the company showed promising momentum, but it wasn’t in the same league as a giant like Microsoft. The two weren’t comparable; Apple was merely an up-and-comer with potential, but potential alone wasn’t enough.

In other words, from every angle, Apple lacked an edge.

Edgar believed that Apple needed Anson, desperately so; but Anson didn’t need Apple. Anson was the one holding the cards.

If Apple wanted to secure this partnership, they had to show more sincerity.

Lucas shared a similar view, but his perspective slightly differed. He knew Anson’s attitude toward this emerging tech company.

Lucas glanced at Anson.

He had a hunch: Anson had always been optimistic about Apple’s expansion and innovation. He seemed likely to welcome this collaboration.

Anson appeared exceptionally relaxed. He wasn’t in a hurry to accept. Instead, after Edgar spoke, he handed the reins to him, adopting a listening posture. This brought a smile to Lucas’s face.

Matt, for his part, wasn’t surprised.

Clearly, he came prepared.

“So, are we here to talk about ideals, or reality?”

Matt smiled but didn’t wait for an answer before continuing.

“If we’re talking about ideals, we hope Anson and the August 31st Band can become icons of fashion and trendsetters at the forefront of the times. We’re willing to collaborate on a series of promotional activities that don’t involve endorsements.”

“Officially, we wouldn’t sign Anson as an Apple spokesperson because we don’t use spokespeople. But in practice, we’d highlight Anson’s image in prominent spots, creating a spark between Apple’s high-tech innovation and Anson’s youthful, fashionable persona.”

“This would be a win-win brand collaboration. We believe Apple can enhance Anson’s personal brand.”

Matt’s confidence was evident—

To Edgar, it felt slightly odd. Apple wasn’t yet a top-tier brand in the industry, yet Matt exuded a firm and vibrant confidence, radiating pride and conviction.

It was a wholehearted sense of trust and certainty.

“If we’re talking about reality, if Anson agrees to grant us exclusive rights to ‘Another Light’ and all future band projects, we’re ready to back it up with a check as a gesture of sincerity. Of course, the exact figure is negotiable.”

Apple, much like a record company, had prepared a signing bonus to demonstrate their commitment.

Matt’s cleverness lay in not stating a number outright—

Or one might call it cunning.

This detail showed that Matt’s main pitch today was to appeal to aspirations, playing the emotional card. As for money? That was negotiable, but Apple wasn’t ready to bleed.

After all, iTunes was just getting started. If they made an exception for Anson, future negotiations with other artists and record companies would become challenging. Matt didn’t want to reveal his hand too early.

Of course, Edgar could press Matt now, demanding sincerity and pushing aggressively for a better deal.

But Edgar saw that as a losing strategy—getting bogged down in minor negotiations over tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars and giving up the upper hand.

So, what was the correct approach?

Edgar shook his head slightly, smiling.

“Mr. Brown, you’re not being sincere enough.”

“You’re only talking about exclusive rights without mentioning revenue sharing for digital music. I’m no expert on iTunes, but I know that whether it’s physical albums or digital tracks, there should always be a split of the sales revenue.”

Caught red-handed.

But Matt didn’t panic. He smiled, raised his hands in mock surrender, and said,

“Apologies, my memory seems to have failed me. I completely overlooked this crucial point.”

“Generally speaking, we don’t negotiate revenue shares with individual artists. We work directly with record companies, applying a unified standard across their rosters. It’s then up to the label to negotiate with their artists.”

How much one received depended entirely on their negotiation skills.

Apple’s approach was reasonable. As a music distribution platform—like a record store—they dealt with labels, not individual artists.

However, Edgar wasn’t having it. “In that case, you should be negotiating with Warner Music, not sitting here speaking directly to Anson, correct?”

“You’re here because you see Anson and the August 31st Band as independent entities—not just ‘some artist,’ but the artist who plays a unique and important role. I’d expect you to come prepared, Mr. Brown.”

Sharp and cutting.

Edgar was formidable.

Matt had anticipated this and chuckled lightly.

“Of course. Of course!”

“My apologies—I clearly failed to show enough sincerity. Allow me to make an adjustment.”

He acknowledged his misstep without embarrassment, deftly diffusing the situation.

He shifted gears. “We’re willing to sign a special revenue-sharing agreement with Anson, guaranteeing a rate 5% higher than our standard contracts. We believe in the talent and appeal of the August 31st Band, and we’re confident our partnership will create a synergy where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.”

Five percent.

It was just a number, but it caught Edgar and Lucas off guard.

This was sincerity.

They understood how negotiations with major corporations often dragged on over a single percentage point, with immense effort spent over tiny margins.

After all, 1% could mean tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars.

But then, Anson, who had been quietly observing, let out a soft laugh.

“No wonder Mom always said, ‘Never trust strangers easily—they might just be the big bad wolf.’”

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 1257: The Hidden Agenda*

5%.

There was no doubt that this number carried a strong impact.

Both Edgar and Lucas vaguely sensed something unusual—

Being too stingy and refusing to concede any benefits was obviously a red flag; yet, at the same time, being overly generous and freely offering up most of the profits wasn’t reassuring either.

Anomalies often conceal hidden dangers.

However, Edgar and Lucas’s understanding of the music industry was minimal; they couldn’t even manage armchair theorizing.

At this point, while they could sense something was off, they had no idea what Matt was scheming, leaving them utterly clueless about how to mount a counterattack.

Clearly, they needed a professional music agent—

The saying “different professions are worlds apart” was no exaggeration.

Meanwhile, Anson, who had been quietly sitting to the side since Edgar spoke up, let out a soft chuckle.

“No wonder Mom always said, ‘Never trust strangers easily—one of them might just be the Big Bad Wolf.’”

Matt caught the barb in the remark and smiled at Anson. “So, does that make you Little Red Riding Hood?”

Anson’s lips curved upward as well. “Times have changed. Little Red Riding Hood may have been helpless before, but now she fights back.”

“Matt, how much does a song cost on iTunes?”

Edgar: ?

Lucas: ?

To be honest, neither of them had a clue about the answer.

Matt felt a slight unease creeping in, but he maintained his composure. “One dollar—technically, 99 cents.”

Anson followed up, “And how much of that revenue does the artist actually receive?”

Matt wasn’t falling for it. “That’s an industry secret. Sorry, I can’t answer.”

Anson’s lips twitched into a faint smirk. “How about this: let me make a guess. You don’t need to confirm; just give me a look if I’m close. Deal?”

Matt felt a growing sense of foreboding as his unease began to deepen—

The situation was slipping out of his control.

At this stage, digital music platforms were still in their infancy, with the industry in flux and lacking standardization. Different platforms and companies were exploring their own approaches, leaving no unified benchmarks in place.

When Matt said it was confidential, he wasn’t lying. Revealing such high-level information could immediately invite malicious competition from rivals.

But seeing the mischievous gleam in Anson’s eyes, Matt couldn’t shake his unease.

With a rueful smile, Matt spread his hands. “Anson, unless you agree to collaborate and sit down at the negotiation table officially, you know I can’t respond in any form.”

Then, with a quick pivot, he added:

“Of course, if you’re ready to move into collaboration mode now, that’s another story entirely.”

Matt was trying to regain control of the conversation.

Unfortunately, Anson wasn’t biting.

“Five cents,” Anson said.

Both Edgar and Lucas froze in unison.

Edgar blurted out, “How much?”

Lucas quickly glanced at Matt. Despite Matt’s calm, composed expression, Lucas caught a fleeting trace of shock—

Anson had nailed it.

Not just close, but spot on.

It was so accurate that even a seasoned veteran like Matt faltered for a moment:

How had Anson guessed it?

Five cents.

Just five cents per song?

In other words, only 5% of the sales revenue.

So, if it were increased by 5%, that would mean ten cents. Each time Anson’s song was downloaded on iTunes, he’d earn ten cents.

A thousand downloads would only amount to $100?

No wonder Matt had been so generous, immediately offering an additional 5%!

Both Edgar and Lucas turned to Matt, their gazes scrutinizing him. The previously amicable atmosphere instantly grew tense.

Matt found himself unable to explain—

He couldn’t confirm it, nor could he deny it.

At present, the entire industry was still in its early stages, including iTunes itself, which had just launched its music download feature in 2003. It hadn’t even been a full year yet.

Currently, iTunes was experimenting with comprehensive collaborations with music companies and artists. Negotiations remained volatile, with many variables still in play.

The situation could be divided into two parts:

1. *Independent Artists:*

   Without record label involvement, iTunes primarily adopted a 50-50 split. For a $1 song, Apple kept 50 cents, and the independent artist also earned 50 cents.

   This arrangement, while seemingly exploitative, was favored by independent artists because traditional royalty rates from record labels often fell below 20%. The jump to 50%, free from intermediaries like labels and distributors, significantly increased their take-home earnings, allowing them to focus solely on creating music.

2. *Record Labels:*

   Warner Music Group led the charge here, but negotiations with Apple were tense.

   Apple aimed to claim 40% of the revenue, while Warner was willing to concede only 30%, consistent with traditional retail distribution percentages.

   Essentially, Warner didn’t resist the shift to digital platforms but refused to alter its profit-sharing model, treating iTunes as just another retailer.

   Simultaneously, Warner told its artists that the new distribution channel required substantial investment, including rising costs for promotion and marketing. As a result, royalties for digital sales would range from 5% to 15%, with even top-tier artists capped at 15%.

   With these adjustments, Warner secured a hefty 55% to 65% of the revenue—

   The real highway robbers.

No wonder major corporations were often likened to ruthless, bone-crushing monsters.

Of course, everything remained in flux, and these figures weren’t set in stone.

But one fact was undeniable: when facing these industry giants, individual artists were always the weaker party. That had never changed.

Anson’s cited 5% represented the lowest threshold, the bottom line. Matt couldn’t deny its existence.

The problem was, Matt couldn’t elaborate either. Doing so risked inadvertently leaking sensitive details about Apple’s negotiations with Warner Music Group.

With Edgar and Lucas watching closely, Matt had to tread carefully.

Anson had posed a dilemma, leaving Matt stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Matt hesitated briefly, then chuckled. “Anson, you did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

Clearly, Anson had intentionally boxed Matt into a corner.

Anson, however, wore an innocent expression. “If I’m wrong, feel free to correct me anytime.”

As he spoke, Anson spread his hands, making an inviting gesture.

Matt could only shake his head with a wry smile.

But then, Anson shifted gears. “The key point is, you just mentioned that iTunes is willing to sign a special agreement with an additional 5% above the standard. Does this 5% include Warner’s collaboration, or is it separate?”

The question wasn’t about the surface offer.

Matt’s expression froze momentarily, his eyes gradually lighting up—

Clearly, Anson was even sharper than Matt had anticipated.

This wasn’t surprising. In Hollywood, those who reached the top of the pyramid were all exceptionally clever. No matter how foolish or superficial they might appear, there were no exceptions.

(End of Chapter)  

Chapter 1258: The Mantis Stalks the Cicada, Unaware of the Oriole Behind

One option: Apple collaborates with Warner Music and signs a comprehensive partnership agreement. All Warner Music releases, including those by the August 31st band, would be available on iTunes for sale.

Another option: Apple partners directly with Anson and the August 31st band, signing an independent agreement. While the band’s previous works would still require Warner Music’s involvement, Anson and the band’s future works could be exclusively released on iTunes.

Here, things might get complicated.

The August 31st band has an existing agreement with Warner Music. If the band bypasses Warner Music to sign a separate digital distribution agreement, it could lead to a legal and contractual battle.

Two options, two strategies.

From Matt’s perspective?

Apple leans toward the first option. They don’t just want the August 31st band—they want Warner Music's entire catalog under contract.

Of course, Matt is willing to provide special incentives to the August 31st band under the first option. This is where the 5% comes in—a way to emphasize the band’s unique status.

Anson’s analysis wasn’t wrong: the 5% refers to five cents—an additional five cents per download.

Don’t underestimate this 5%. If an album like Midnight Summer sells 5 million copies, that’s $250,000 in extra revenue.

However, Matt sensed something deeper in Anson’s words.

Matt, being sharp, had a sudden realization—

Could the August 31st band be planning to part ways with Warner Music?

That would be a bombshell.

After the Grammy frenzy, it’s easy to imagine record labels fighting tooth and nail for the August 31st band’s contract.

Of course, Matt couldn’t have dreamed that the real truth was the band’s impending breakup.

But that didn’t matter. It was enough that Matt could infer potential issues between the band and Warner Music.

Thoughts began to race—

What if, hypothetically, iTunes could secure exclusive distribution rights to Another Light?

Here, “exclusive” means there would be no physical single—just a digital release. If you wanted to hear the song, you’d have to buy an iPod and download it on iTunes. Exclusively bundled.

Undoubtedly, this would significantly impact the song’s sales. After all, only a few die-hard fans would be crazy enough to buy a new device just for one song. It might even spark public backlash.

But the key wasn’t sales—it was making iTunes a household name.

From a promotional and branding perspective, even if single sales took a hit, Apple could catapult iTunes into mainstream consciousness.

Just imagining this scenario made Matt giddy with excitement.

In this light, Anson parting ways with Warner Music might actually be a good thing.

If so, offering Anson 90% of the digital revenue for Another Light wouldn’t be an issue.

Although 90% sounds extreme, it would only apply to this one song. It would help iTunes gain traction and open doors for future collaborations. Once established, Apple could renegotiate the revenue split for subsequent releases.

Matt had his own calculations.

By testing the waters with one single, Anson could experience firsthand that partnering with iTunes was just as rewarding—if not more—than working with traditional record labels. This would increase Anson’s willingness to collaborate further, allowing Apple to negotiate more favorable terms later.

At the same time, Anson’s example could attract more independent artists to iTunes, including smaller labels like Baoluo Records.

A win-win scenario with countless benefits.

In a flash, Matt’s mind buzzed with ideas, inspiration flowing rapidly.

When his focus returned to Anson, a smile appeared in his eyes.

“It’s up to you,” Matt said decisively.

Anson looked slightly surprised. “What do you mean?”

Matt replied, “It’s entirely your decision. You can include Warner Music—or not. If you choose not to, we can revisit the revenue split. Just name your terms, and we’ll make it happen.”

Confident. Transparent. Decisive.

His words rippled through the room like a stone dropped into a pond.

Anson raised an eyebrow slightly. “Even 100%?”

Matt was momentarily stunned. He hadn’t expected Anson to be so audacious. “Haha. Well, I might need to call a management meeting for that. The pressure’s a bit much,” Matt joked, miming lifting weights off his shoulders.

Even as Anson pushed the envelope, Matt maintained a positive attitude and didn’t outright reject the idea—a testament to his sincerity.

Unexpectedly, Anson didn’t respond but instead turned to Lucas.

Not Edgar, but Lucas.

Matt was puzzled. He still hadn’t figured out Lucas’s role in all this. Was Lucas Anson’s manager?

In Hollywood, it’s common for artists to hire family members as personal managers to oversee all aspects of their careers. Managers, unlike agents, represent the artist’s interests exclusively.

Matt wasn’t the only one surprised. Lucas was caught off guard, too.

He knew nothing about the music industry. Sitting in on the discussion, the professional jargon didn’t resonate with him. Instead, he focused on Apple’s ambitions and strategies—areas more aligned with his expertise.

Noticing Anson’s gaze, Lucas returned the look, slightly confused.

Anson gestured subtly toward Matt with his eyes, then kept his gaze on Lucas. “Since you say any terms are possible, we do have an idea.”

Matt: ??? No, I didn’t say any terms are possible.

Lucas, however, caught on. “Anson, are you sure? I don’t think Mr. Brown can handle this kind of pressure.”

“After all, you know his shoulders are a bit… frail.”

As Lucas spoke, he glanced at Matt.

Matt recognized this as a classic baiting tactic—simple yet effective. And he had to admit, it worked. He was curious.

Lucas and Matt locked eyes briefly before Lucas spoke again.

“You mentioned earlier that Apple doesn’t use brand ambassadors but is open to strategic partnerships for mutual benefit.”

“Well, I have a proposal. What if Apple entrusts all its future commercials to us?”

With that, Lucas pulled out a business card from his pocket and handed it to Matt.

Still skeptical, Matt glanced at the card—

“Forest Pictures, CEO, Lucas Wood.”

Wait—Forest Pictures?

The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.

Matt thought he was targeting Anson to disrupt the industry. Little did he know, his ambition was being leveraged by someone else with their own plans to shake up the market.

(End of Chapter)  

Chapter 1259: Seamless Transition

The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.

One move follows another, seamlessly interconnected.

Matt was 100% certain that everything happening before him was not premeditated.

The reason was simple. Even he had only decided during a late-night meeting to intercept Anson before he left for the set. The Wood brothers, of course, couldn’t have known in advance either.

This meant that everything unfolding right now was completely improvised.

However, this only proved the brilliance of the Wood brothers. They weren’t just sharp and insightful; they were decisive and daring. Their audacity was truly impressive.

What was Forest Pictures’ first Hollywood release again?

"Walk the Line."

Yes, that was it.

For a moment, Matt’s mind raced at high speed.

Lucas, meanwhile, remained calm and unhurried, maintaining a steady pace.

“We should’ve prepared a portfolio, but oh, I forgot—we don’t have one yet. The only thing we truly possess, the only thing we can rely on, is Anson Wood.”

“Oh, by the way, do you know Anson Wood’s work?”

"Catch Me If You Can," "The Butterfly Effect," and "Elephant." The marketing strategies for these films led to global box office revenues exceeding $100 million for all three.”

He spoke earnestly, but with a touch of humor that was impossible to ignore.

When Lucas switched into work mode, he effortlessly controlled the conversation.

Matt, initially indifferent, couldn’t help but show a flicker of surprise. “Elephant? That Palme d’Or winner?”

Lucas nodded. “I know. It’s an unbelievable achievement. But that’s Anson for you. Hollywood calls him the ‘Midas Touch.’”

Beside them, Anson appeared completely focused, as though Lucas was talking about someone else entirely, his expression that of a captivated listener.

The playful banter between the Wood brothers finally made Matt laugh out loud.

“Impressive, truly impressive.” Matt clapped politely. “As remarkable as that is, I’m afraid our company’s creative department is what we’re most confident in. We don’t need external support at this time.”

Polite but firm, leaving no room for negotiation.

Matt’s categorical rejection revealed a decisive nature, even as he engaged in discussions with Anson. Business was business.

The small detail offered a glimpse into the company’s corporate culture.

Lucas didn’t seem discouraged; on the contrary, he appeared intrigued by the company’s creative department.

Anson, however, wasn’t surprised. In hindsight, given Apple’s trajectory, at least during Steve Jobs’s lifetime, creativity and innovation had always been the company’s core competitive edge.

It wasn’t until Jobs’s passing that things began to shift—though that’s another story entirely.

Anson smiled and subtly took over the conversation from Lucas.

“Yes, I believe what you’re saying.”

“In fact, it’s Forest Pictures that might need creative support.”

Matt looked puzzled and gave Anson a curious glance.

Anson explained, “We could integrate Apple products into all of Forest Pictures’ contemporary films—your entire product line—seamlessly woven into characters and scenes. This would create brand influence subtly and persistently, embedding Apple into the public’s consciousness.”

“Apple isn’t just about computers. It’s a brand, an identity, even a lifestyle. Through Forest Pictures’ films, we can shape that image as part of your branding strategy.”

His words sounded lofty and grand.

But when dissected, the core proposal was simple: sponsorship.

At its heart, this was about soft advertising.

Imagine Keanu Reeves using an Apple computer to save the world in The Matrix. Countless moviegoers would naturally associate the product with the film, thereby strengthening Apple’s brand image.

In the history of cinema, the most successful product placement has to be the Aston Martin in the James Bond series.

The car has become inextricably linked with James Bond’s persona, inspiring widespread admiration—even Anson’s first luxury car was an Aston Martin.

Yet what truly piqued Matt’s interest was the essence of the strategy:

Matt had invited Anson to collaborate with iTunes, merging their images.

Now Anson was inviting Apple to collaborate with Forest Pictures, proposing product placement.

Anson was essentially flipping Matt’s strategy to persuade Apple into sponsorship.

Brilliant. Simply brilliant.

The scene made the corners of Matt’s mouth curve upward.

Beside him, Lucas caught on immediately and jumped in.

“Perhaps we could test the waters with a trial collaboration. Start small with one or two projects.”

“From there, we could expand into a long-term partnership—not just product placement. We could develop TV shows or film projects together, and Apple could choose to invest in any project that interests them.”

Taking it a step further!

Recently, Lucas had been seeking more funding to maintain Forest Pictures’ independence while increasing operational capital.

With an opportunity presenting itself, Lucas wasn’t about to let it slip by.

Matt was stunned.

Movies? TV shows?

Good heavens.

They had just been joking about Apple not being a record label, but merely a music player and streaming platform.

Now, the idea of Apple diving into original entertainment content—movies and TV shows—felt utterly absurd.

No, impossible.

Matt couldn’t fathom a future where Apple would venture into producing films or shows.

The very thought was preposterous.

Even imagining it was hard to believe—they were a computer company, after all.

For a moment, Matt was completely floored. He thought he was bold, but next to the Wood brothers, he had to concede defeat.

Still, Matt was sharp. He avoided getting caught up in the Wood brothers’ rhythm, instead steering the conversation back on track.

“That’s a completely different matter, an entirely separate issue.”

“Let’s keep things distinct. Right now, we’re discussing music collaboration.”

No affirmation, no outright denial, not even a hint of sarcasm or humor. Matt regained his composure amid the whirlwind, firmly redirecting the topic.

However, Anson’s smile deepened.

“Before today, I never anticipated Apple would approach me about music collaboration. Perhaps we should remain open to possibilities.”

“After all, anything is possible.”

Once again, Matt found himself outmaneuvered. His gaze toward Anson grew increasingly admiring—today had been quite the learning experience.

But this time, Anson didn’t wait for Matt’s response. He shifted the topic seamlessly.

“Still, I agree with you. There’s no need to rush. Let’s take it step by step and talk about the music collaboration.”

“You’re aware there’s Warner Records between us, right?”

Matt laughed, his eyes gleaming with understanding. “So, does that mean you’ve agreed to the collaboration?”

Rather than answering directly, Anson switched perspectives.

“No,” he replied crisply, his denial catching Matt off guard. “As I said, you’ll need to convince Warner Records first.”

Clearly, Anson was just as tough a negotiator.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 1260: A Good Start

Matt Brown stood at the door of the villa, raising his head to look at the sky. Winter in Los Angeles felt as warm as spring, with only sparse clouds hinting at the desolation of a cold Northern Hemisphere winter.

The agreement hadn’t been reached.

Last night, the August 31st Band seemed so simple and pure—burning their lives for their dreams and charging forward with unwavering ideals.

Yet today, Anson appeared rational and sharp, clear-headed and astute, showing no signs of impulsive self-sacrifice.

Matt’s desire for a quick resolution had not succeeded.

However, Matt wasn’t disappointed.

In fact, he left with a positive outlook.

Because he understood that Anson wasn’t rejecting the collaboration but was simply staying clear-headed.

Collaboration—Anson was willing to collaborate. But Anson also knew that collaboration wasn’t charity. Be it Apple or Warner Records, both were seeking their own benefits, and naturally, Anson wouldn’t hand over his interests without a fight.

On the contrary, Anson was ready to seize this opportunity to secure more benefits—

Forest Pictures.

Once the motivations of the other party were clear, things became simpler.

What Matt needed to do was evaluate the benefits Anson was pursuing, balance them against his own, and ultimately craft a collaborative plan. What followed would be a phase of mutual calculation and negotiation.

However, the Wood brothers weren’t pushovers.

First, Anson knew he had the upper hand right now, holding a decisive advantage.

Second, Anson was well aware that relying solely on his individual power and the newly founded Forest Pictures wasn’t enough to compete with Apple. That’s why he brought Warner Records into the picture.

This way, although Anson would have to share some of the benefits with Warner Records, the partnership would allow him to secure greater gains in return.

A strategic trade-off.

And all of this had emerged from an impromptu meeting.

Matt had prepared thoroughly, staying up all night in meetings. But Anson hadn’t. Taken by surprise today, Anson had still managed to maintain his composure and focus in their exchanges.

This kind of wisdom wasn’t easy to come by.

Honestly, Matt wasn’t discouraged—not at all. If anything, he was even more excited.

Working with intelligent people meant endless possibilities for the future.

Unconsciously, Matt recalled the Wood brothers' suggestion:

Apple collaborating with Forest Pictures to develop series and films?

At first glance, the proposal seemed absurd—a complete joke. But as he thought about it more, Matt found himself intrigued, his mind racing with new ideas.

At the very least, Anson had succeeded in planting a seed in Matt’s mind.

Unconsciously, Matt turned to look back at the villa behind him, a playful glint in his eyes.

Just then, Edgar stepped out, his face beaming as he made an inviting gesture. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

Matt had arrived in Malibu in Edgar’s car, so naturally, Edgar would be driving him back to the city.

Matt had assumed Edgar would need to discuss matters with Anson before leaving, so he had stepped out early to give them space to talk. Unexpectedly, Edgar returned in less than two minutes.

Matt waved it off. "Not at all."

As Edgar and Matt walked toward the car, Lucas and Anson were still inside, discussing details.

Though Lucas had a general understanding of Anson’s thoughts, such an important matter couldn’t rely on unspoken assumptions. They needed to confirm the framework and specific details.

To Anson, this was an opportunity—a chance to unlock endless possibilities. But they couldn’t rush things.

After all, what had initially started as a collaboration between Anson and iTunes for a single song had now escalated to a potential partnership between Apple and Forest Pictures. This required careful planning, and Matt himself was likely caught off guard.

Moreover, Apple’s music division was still in its infancy—less than a year old. For Anson to propose expanding into film and television development was not only bold but downright audacious.

Even Netflix was still just a DVD rental company at this time. The era of streaming hadn’t arrived yet. Forcing a transition five or ten years ahead of its time was bound to fail. Success required the right timing and the right opportunity.

Anson understood this well.

For now, this was merely a test—a prelude, a signal to begin laying the groundwork.

Ultimately, the collaboration needed to be grounded in reality and focused on the immediate opportunity—

The release of Another Light.  

Lucas looked at Anson. "So, you’re saying this collaboration is imperative."

Anson nodded. "If we’re content to stay where we are—acting occasionally, dabbling in music—there’s no rush. Step by step, everything will fall into place."

"But clearly, that’s not what you believe."

Lucas shook his head firmly. "You know this is just an idealistic vision. You could stand apart from capital, chase your dreams freely, and remain untouched by the chaos of the entertainment industry."

As Anson’s status in the industry grew, so did the attention on him, and the pull of capital became increasingly complex.

Things weren’t that simple.

In an ideal world, Anson had already climbed from obscurity to his current position. He should have the power to pursue his dreams. Yet the shadows behind those dreams only grew darker and heavier.

The Wood brothers understood this well—

From the moment Anson stepped into Hollywood, he had relied on Darren Star’s connections to break through the glass ceiling.

After the Sony-Columbia incident, this reality became even clearer. It was why Lucas had to establish Forest Pictures—to become a player in the game of capital himself.

Anson shrugged nonchalantly, his expression open. "Then we must seize the opportunity."

"My idea is to bring Warner Records into the fold. We’ll leverage our resources to negotiate strategically. Let the giants eat the meat while we drink the soup. Step by step, we’ll carve out our place in this power game."

"What do you think?"

This was Lucas’s specialty.

Anson’s past life had been spent struggling at the bottom. He’d never dealt with this level of high-stakes negotiation. Though his theories might sound impressive, putting them into practice could expose significant shortcomings.

Lucas’s mind began racing, and he nodded resolutely.

"No problem."

However, the challenges ahead weren’t limited to just one or two issues.

"So, are you planning to head into the recording studio with the band? What about Walk the Line?"

"The film crew isn’t a big issue. We can delay shooting for a few days. But if word gets out, the Academy will find out."

The Walk the Line crew could accommodate the August 31st Band’s recording schedule, but refusing to clear two days for Anson to attend the Oscars? That wouldn’t sit well.

If the news leaked, it would be a blatant slap in the Academy’s face. Although Anson had toyed with the Academy more than once before, such open defiance was a different matter.

They might not take it lightly.

(End of Chapter)