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August in New York was stiflingly hot, especially in the enclosed environment of a recording studio.
Even with the AC blasting, it couldn't stop the sweat from flowing.
Beads of sweat trickled down the contours of Taylor's cheeks. Leon put on his headphones, nodded, and began to sing along with the backing track:
"Screaming, crying, perfect storms... I can make all the tables turn. Rose garden filled with thorns, keep you second guessing like..."
"Excellent..." Leon couldn't help but applaud. "The synth sounds should be a bit clearer, otherwise, they're too easily drowned out by the electric guitar."
"I think so too. That's a good suggestion; I'll tell Max."
"That's just my personal opinion. You should listen to Max regarding the final effect; the guy is a pro."
"I think you're no worse than him. Didn't you write a huge hit for Ariana? You were the producer on that track too." Taylor rolled her eyes playfully.
"Well..." Leon didn't know what to say.
He also wanted to collaborate with Taylor, but the Inspiration Refresh hadn't given him the chance yet.
"Honestly, I don't care. I can write even better stuff myself." Taylor waved her hand. "Aside from the arrangement, what do you think of the lyrics? Any room for improvement?"
"Is everything in your lyrics true? Screaming, going crazy, all that..." Leon asked with a smirk.
The first half of Blank Space described a girl in love, but in the second half, Taylor completely painted herself as a hysterical maniac.
Unreasonable, princess syndrome, controlling...
All the personality traits that men found intolerable were maxed out.
Taylor immediately saw through him. She draped her arm over his shoulder, narrowed her eyes, and asked, "If I said this is the real me, what would you do?"
"I don't have a habit of wearing a belt," Leon said.
"What?" Taylor didn't get his meaning at all.
"If you're really like that, then I think I need to go buy a belt. The kind with a copper buckle." Leon spread his hands, a wicked grin on his face.
"Leon!"
Taylor's body jolted as if she'd been electrocuted. She flushed red from her neck to her eyes.
Her fists rained down on his chest like little raindrops.
Leon clutched his stomach, laughing non-stop. "I'm just kidding..."
In Blank Space, Taylor used sarcastic lyrics to mock the media's demonization of her love life.
Every line dripped with her volatile emotions—sometimes playful and cute, sometimes emotional and unhinged.
Leon held reservations about the so-called "self-mockery." Taylor's reputation among her ex-boyfriends wasn't exactly glowing.
When a woman always complains about meeting scumbags, nine times out of ten, she's a handful herself.
Leon suddenly grabbed Taylor's wrist, leaning forward until he was breathing her air. "I've finished appreciating your work. Now it's time to appreciate something else."
"Here?"
Taylor's eyes went round, like a cat's eyes glowing in the dark.
Although the studio was silent, through the window, they could see the traffic on the street.
Outside the "One-Night Love Exchange" (the motel) next door, several middle-aged men who looked physically drained were gathered around smoking.
Isn't this a bit too thrilling?
Before Taylor could react, Leon had already pressed his lips against hers.
He worked his way down to her fair neck.
A numbing sensation spread through her body like an electric current. She quickly melted, unable to muster any strength to resist even if she wanted to.
"Wait... let's go home first, okay?"
Leon shook his head. This was his moment of dominance; he wouldn't tolerate any requests.
He pushed Taylor onto the sofa, taking the dominant position.
The location was the same, but the leading lady had changed.
Just last week, he had taught young Ariana a lesson in this very spot.
He skillfully broke Taylor's seal. The two entangled from the sofa to the mixing console.
Finally, pressed against the window, they fought their decisive battle under the faint moonlight.
Leon lit a post-coital cigarette and looked back to see Taylor collapsed on the sofa.
"You let you have your way again..." Taylor was groggy, looking like she could fall asleep at any moment.
Leon grinned wickedly and drove her back to his place in Tribeca.
---
They slept until ten in the morning.
Taylor stretched and looked back at Leon on the pillow beside her.
The stimulating scenes from the studio last night surged through her mind, and a blush rose on her face.
Leon rolled over, rubbed his eyes, and caught the moment.
He paused for a few seconds, then sighed. "You want to go again right after waking up?"
Taylor grabbed a pillow and threw it at Leon coquettishly. "I'm a little hungry."
"There's a great breakfast place nearby. Unless you're in China, you'll rarely see a place that makes breakfast so lavish and luxurious."
Taylor was interested in the proposal. She brushed her hair back and quickly got out of bed to dress. Afraid of being recognized, they both put on hoodies and pulled the hoods over their faces.
Wearing this in 90-degree heat actually made them stand out more.
The two walked into a Cantonese Dim Sum restaurant. Leon skillfully flipped through the menu and finished ordering in just two minutes.
Under Taylor's expectant gaze, plate after plate of exquisite small dishes was brought to the table.
Shrimp dumplings (Har Gow), Siu Mai, Sponge Cake, Molten Custard Buns, Fried Glutinous Rice Dumplings, BBQ Pork Buns... almost all the classic dishes of Cantonese morning tea were served, filling the table.
The speed at which the waiter brought a new dish every ten seconds left Taylor dumbfounded. "Are you sure this is breakfast?"
"That's right." Leon nodded proudly. Looking at the table full of dishes, he couldn't help but whet his appetite. He quickly extended his chopsticks, picked up a Siu Mai, and stuffed it into his mouth.
"Oh my God~ I don't think Christmas dinner is this rich," Taylor exclaimed.
American Christmas dinner wasn't comparable to a lavish Dim Sum spread. Usually, turkey was essential.
The rest was casseroles, roast duck, potatoes, and vegetable platters.
Wealthy families' tables might be richer, but it was mostly steak, lobster, and caviar.
Having more than seven courses was considered a very decent family meal.
"Don't just eat with your eyes; use your mouth too," Leon reminded.
Taylor picked up the chopsticks, not knowing which target to strike for a moment.
After choosing for a dozen seconds, she locked her gaze on the translucent crystal shrimp dumpling and struck decisively.
Leon's eyes were full of smiles, watching her clumsy use of chopsticks. "No one said you can't use a fork."
"No!" Taylor refused firmly. "I can definitely do it; it's not that hard..."
After five or six minutes and dozens of attempts, she finally successfully picked up a shrimp dumpling. A proud smile was about to spill from the corner of her mouth. "What did I say? It's not hard at all~"
Splat—
Before she could be happy for a few seconds, the chopsticks shook slightly, and the shrimp dumpling fell onto the table.
"Okay~ I give up." Seeing Leon's chopsticks flying up and down the table, Taylor temporarily gave up practicing with chopsticks.
Cantonese morning tea focuses on small and exquisite portions. It looks like there are endless dishes, but actually, there isn't that much food.
If she didn't pick up the familiar fork, she was worried this table of exquisite dishes would be swept clean by Leon alone.
"I like this! It's very different from the dumplings I ate at Panda Express. This is a completely different texture!" Taylor fell in love with the shrimp dumpling after just one bite, and fork-stabbed another one as soon as she finished.
Without excessive seasoning and mainly using fresh shrimp, she didn't have to worry about gaining weight like she did with the braised pork last time.
"You've been to Panda Express?" Leon asked.
"Is that strange?" Taylor responded while chewing food, disregarding her ladylike image.
"I thought a big star from a wealthy family like you would never patronize that kind of cheap restaurant." Leon spread his hands.
"I often had lunch there when I was in school." Taylor rolled her eyes. "I'm just an ordinary middle-class girl, not Paris Hilton~"
Leon smiled and didn't respond. He placed a small dish from in front of him in front of her. "Try this."
The food on the plate looked oily and bouncy, but the shape was a bit strange, like the hand bones of a dead person.
Taylor had absolutely no appetite for it. "What is this? It looks terrible."
To trick her into trying it, Leon said, "This dish is very famous in the East. People call it 'Devil's Hand'."
"Devil's Hand?" Taylor stared at the strange food and examined it carefully, but ultimately lacked the courage to try.
"It's just an exaggeration. Actually, it's made of meat jelly (aspic), more delicious than British meat jelly," Leon played hard to get, continuing to lure her. "Alright, looks like you're a coward. Then all of these are mine. The brave enjoy life first."
These words aroused Taylor's competitive spirit. She snatched the plate back. "Give it to me!"
Staring at the dish, she repeated to herself: "It's okay, Taylor... you can do it!"
"It's just some strange-looking meat jelly; it's not as scary as he says."
After some mental preparation, she finally worked up the courage to fork a chicken foot and put it in her mouth. "It tastes like jelly, rich in spices... not as bad as I imagined."
"Don't chew so fast." Leon demonstrated while holding back laughter. "Chewing too fast will make you swallow the bones. Just like playing the guitar, your tongue needs to be flexible."
Taylor mimicked him, picking up the chicken foot with her hand. Suddenly realizing something was wrong, she asked, "What did you just say? Bones?"
"Yes."
"How can there be bones in meat jelly?"
"I lied to you. It's actually the claw of an animal."
Taylor's expression froze instantly. She slowly lowered her head to stare at the half-eaten chicken foot.
Although she already had a guess in her mind, she still held a trace of fantasy about the answer. "What animal's claw is this exactly..."
"Chicken feet."
"Leon!!" Taylor's features twisted as if she had eaten a lemon. She hurriedly pushed the chicken feet aside.
After drinking three cups of tea in a row, her mood calmed down a bit.
Her naive anger made Leon unable to help laughing. "Just forget it's a chicken foot. You're engaging in ingredient discrimination."
"I don't want to talk to you anymore!" Sparks were about to fly from Taylor's eyes. "Does teasing me make you that happy?"
For a long time afterward, no matter what dish Leon recommended, she resolutely refused to try.
She used her woman's instinct as the standard for selecting dishes, only eating food that looked beautifully shaped.
Taylor forked a molten bun and took a light bite. Her sour face immediately switched to a satisfied expression. "I like this. It tastes like a donut's relative."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "That's a molten bun. Remember to bite down gently, don't rush, or else..."
Before he finished speaking, a stream of white, viscous liquid slid down the corner of Taylor's mouth.
This molten bun wasn't made with custard. To adapt to the market, the restaurant owner had localized it.
They launched a version of the molten bun with diluted cheese as the filling.
"So hot!" Taylor immediately pulled her neck back after taking a big bite, wiping the melted cheese from the corner of her mouth with her hand.
After demolishing most of the twenty-plus dishes on the table, both of them simultaneously lost their combat power and couldn't eat another bite.
Taylor took a sip of tea and summarized the meal with a serious face. "So, Morning Tea is the foodie version of an adventure game, right? There are cheese lava bombs, and that Devil's Hand... God, I never want to try that thing again. It feels like I'm playing a Chinese cuisine dungeon raid."
"Then why did you eat so much?"
Leon clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back in the chair. "You have 15 concerts this month. Did you come back specifically to record a song?"
"Otherwise? Did you think I came to see you?" Taylor responded while touching up her lipstick.
"I'll assume that's what you thought." Leon spread his hands. "It looks like your new album progress is quite good."
Taylor sighed. "Actually, counting Blank Space, I've only written two songs so far. I've decided to make an album that isn't so country."
Leon expressed full understanding of this.
Taylor's emergence had thoroughly revived country music. In terms of artistic achievement, she might not compare to superstars like Johnny Cash or Dolly Parton.
But in terms of sales, she already stood at the pinnacle of country music. Transitioning to pop music was the only way to break through.
Since they were talking about records, Leon steered the topic toward Scott. "I heard Braun's SB Projects is about to sign you."
"That's just rumors." Taylor shook her head. "I hate that guy, you know that. I've already made my stance clear to Scott, and he explicitly stated he wouldn't transfer my management contract to Braun."
Leon revealed a scornful smile.
Verbal guarantees?
In this circle, apart from black-and-white contracts, all verbal promises are bubbles.
Whether in relationships or business.
There is no morality here. As long as the price is right, Scott might even sell his mother to Braun.
"Scott's promises aren't necessarily reliable," Leon warned bluntly.
"It shouldn't happen... even for my father's sake. I was only 16 when I joined Big Machine Records; we both had nothing back then." Taylor refused to admit the possibility of being betrayed by Scott.
Scott had nothing to do with the word "nothing." Before founding Big Machine Records, he was an executive at DreamWorks Records.
That meant he used to work under David Geffen.
This wealthy entertainment tycoon had many labels: "Gay," "Collector," "Golden Finger," etc.
However, his most prominent trait was undoubtedly the ruthlessness and cunning flowing in his blood.
To climb to an executive position under such a capitalist, one could think with their butt what kind of character Scott was.
"Listen, this isn't a joke." Leon's expression suddenly became serious. "Think about the relationship between Braun and Scott. They're like twins. I suspect they were born from the same father. You must be prepared for what might happen."
He wasn't forcing his way into this matter to make Taylor switch to Apocalypse Music.
The old giants in the market were all staring at this walking money-printing machine; Apocalypse Music didn't have the strength to participate in the competition for now.
But Leon didn't want to easily let others get what he couldn't get, especially Braun.
Taylor pondered for a while, still not quite believing she would be betrayed. "I think Scott wouldn't be that short-sighted. My commercial performances and concerts have made him a lot of money... But he did mention one thing to me, asking for my opinion on the master rights of my first three albums."
"What? Tell me in detail." Leon almost spat out the F-word.
"He wants to sell the master rights of my first three albums," Taylor replied.
"And you agreed?"
"Of course not, I'm not a fool." Taylor rolled her eyes. "Since he wanted to sell, I proposed the idea of buying back the masters, but he named a price I couldn't accept."
"How much?"
"200 million dollars."
"That son of a bitch is crazy..."