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Dustin-Thorne was adjusting his tie, still not accustomed to this kind of attire. He hardly ever wore a tie throughout the year, and if it weren't for Mike-Donovan insisting that this was a basic form of etiquette...
Even so, Dustin still glanced at Mike with a face full of reluctance.
Mike-Donovan, the Vice President of the West Coast Artist Division at Warner Records, noticed the resentful look from his left and felt a bit helpless, but ultimately chose to ignore it without saying much.
"Hey, Dustin, this was your idea. No one forced you to come."
"So, if we want to show enough sincerity, we at least need to look a bit more formal and not like some random vagrants off the street."
Dustin rolled his eyes. "Vagrants might not even be this embarrassing."
Suit? Shirt? Tie? Dress shoes?
How is this different from a Wall Street guy? Not a shred of a musician's spirit!
Mike didn't mind. "Then go roll around on the sidewalk a couple of times; that'll bring out the artist vibe right away."
Dustin could tell he was being mocked, but he didn't care at all. He actually looked around seriously, considering the possibility.
Mike: ...
How was he supposed to stop Dustin?
Maybe the best way to stop Dustin was for Anson to show up?
So, Mike didn't say anything and instead turned to look at the door in front of him, hesitating about whether he should press the doorbell again. Dustin had insisted that talking in a meeting room wouldn't convince such a unique band, which is why they decided to come in person, but they never expected that they might not even get through the door.
Had he known, he would have contacted Anson and the band members through their manager.
Just then—
*Creak.*
The door opened.
Mike was delighted, and Dustin turned his head, both of them looking forward.
Anson, with his messy hair resembling a mad scientist from the movies, appeared sleepy and was simply dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, clearly just woken up.
This kind of meeting was something neither Mike nor Dustin had anticipated.
Mike was starting to regret this.
In Hollywood movies, managers, record company reps, or sports coaches often personally visit someone to show their sincerity and persuade their target, but in real life, this almost never happens.
Look at the awkward situation they're facing now—it's the best proof of that.
So, contacting through the company, sitting down in a meeting room in formal attire, preferably with lawyers present, and following all the professional protocols would have been the best choice, avoiding many unnecessary issues. Movies are fictional and often glorified, and believing in movies or novels is the most foolish thing to do.
However, Anson is a bit different from the norm, which is why Mike agreed to come with Dustin in person.
In any case—
What should they do now?
Just as Mike was hesitating for a moment, he missed the opportunity.
"Sorry, I'm a Buddhist," Anson said.
Mike: Wait, what?
Dustin: Huh?
Both of them couldn't keep up with Anson's pace and were momentarily stunned.
Then, Anson smiled and started closing the door.
Dustin finally reacted, but instead of stopping Anson, he turned to Mike and burst out laughing. "See, I told you, haha, hahaha."
Mike: Completely exasperated.
He glared at Dustin, but there was no time to argue. Seeing that Anson was about to close the door, Mike quickly raised his hand to block it.
"No, we're not here to convert you to Christianity."
Next to him, Dustin was laughing uncontrollably. "Haha, haha, that's so accurate. We do look like missionaries."
Mike was fed up. "Dustin, if you're not going to help, at least don't make things worse. Signing this band was your idea. I'm not responsible for this."
Signing the band?
Anson caught a key phrase but still remained cautious, leaning lazily against the doorframe while sizing up the two men in front of him.
By this time, Dustin had calmed down a bit, though a smile still lingered at the corners of his mouth. "Anson, we're from Warner Records. We're here to discuss signing a record deal with you."
Straight to the point.
Anson didn't easily believe them. "You can discuss that with my manager."
Dustin was beginning to get a little anxious. "But your manager doesn't handle record deals; even if he's filling in, he's only your manager, not the band's."
"Look, here's the deal. We want to sign the entire band, not just you."
It seemed like these two had done their homework and didn't look like scammers.
Anson didn't say anything, still maintaining his guard.
Dustin quickly nudged Mike. "Business card, now's the time to hand over a business card. We need to prove we're not scammers."
He actually... said it out loud like that. Dustin was quite the character.
Mike realized too, fumbling to pull a business card out of his pocket. "In fact, we already called Edgar Cook to inform him. He should have left you a voicemail; of course, I also left you a voicemail explaining the situation, though I'm not sure if you checked it."
He explained as he handed over the card.
Anson took the card and glanced at it. "I'm not in a convenient situation today. How about this: You guys contact Edgar and set up another time to meet. We can arrange for the whole band to be present. I'll give Edgar a heads-up."
Dustin was a bit surprised. "I thought you didn't like formalities."
Mike stopped Dustin, making exaggerated winks to signal him to stop talking, then looked at Anson. "Of course, no problem. Let's do that."
"We'll contact Edgar, and we'll meet in a formal setting."
Without waiting for Dustin to object, Mike pulled him away.
Dustin looked frustrated as he glanced back at Anson, shaking his head in disbelief. It seemed like he didn't expect Anson to be so by-the-book, muttering to himself about how "you couldn't tell from his music," while loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as if he couldn't stand it any longer.
Mike was resigned. "I told you we should be more formal. We're not some no-name indie company. This kind of off-the-cuff approach doesn't work in real life."
Blah blah blah.
The two of them bickered like a comedy duo as they walked away, the scene resembling something straight out of *Pulp Fiction*.
Anson, now fully awake, spoke into the phone. "Luca, some people came over to sign a record deal with me. I might need to talk to them."
Lucas, who had been listening in, replied, "Are you sure they're not scammers?"
"Haha, if they are, their acting is way too natural. I'd suggest they switch careers to acting; they might have a bright future." Anson joked. "I'll call Edgar to confirm."
Then Anson hung up and called out to the two retreating figures.
"That title, are you serious? Even if you're scamming, you should pick a more believable title, right?"