26. Drix
DRIX
Itapped my pen on the corner of the table while I listened to my financial advisor, but honestly, I didn’t care all that much about what he was saying.
I had my dad and mom with me. I didn’t make a business move without their blessing and we’d already run through the numbers.
Doing all of this back to back didn’t look good financially but I was also sure I was making the right move.
Since they’d given me the go ahead, I didn’t care what anyone else thought or felt about my choices.
“All I’m saying is these ventures don’t guarantee a return on your money,” he offered.
“I’m aware, but if I want to take the risk, it’s my money to risk, right?”
“Of course, Mr. King. I just wouldn’t be a good financial advisor if I didn’t tell the risks.”
“I understand but I’m down to take them. I’m not really here to be financially advised like that,” I admitted. “I want you to advise me on which stocks would be the best to get rid of and cash out on. I need to make a few million.”
“Okay. Let me just take another look at your portfolio. I mean, I wouldn’t recommend getting rid of anything considering how well they’ve done in the past few years but if your mind is already made up…” He paused while he glanced at the papers in front of him.
“You don’t have to sell everything from one company. I want to keep things diversified. Take a little bit from here and a little bit from there until it equals about… three million.”
“Three million?” he repeated.
“That’s right.”
“Okay.” He exhaled and flipped a sheet over, quickly working through each before plucking up a highlighter and a pen and getting to work.
He slid the paper toward me and I slid it toward my pops without even glancing at it. He handled my finances so all he had to do was glance at it, approve it, and make the moves.
“When do you need this done, Berlin?” my father asked as he looked at the highlighted sections.
“As soon as possible. Then, send the new numbers over to my accountant.”
“Okay. I can do that.”
“Cool.” I pulled my phone from my pocket when it vibrated and saw it was Myome.
I declined her call and sent a text immediately.
Me: In a meeting. I’ll call you back ASAP.
Wifey: It’s not important. Have a good meeting.
Me: Love you.
Wifey: Love you.
I locked my phone and set it face down on the table.
We went through other questions and concerns my parents had then wrapped up and left.
I had two more meetings today so I hopped in my whip and called Myome immediately, just to touch base.
“Hello?”
“What’s up, Twin?” I threw my car in reverse and backed out.
“Nothing. I just wanted to see what you were up to.”
“I’ve got meetings all day, trying to get shit taken care of before you get back, but I’m hoping to hop in the studio later tonight.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just trying to move shit around. You good?”
“I’m great. I feel good and last night was amazing. Did you see any clips?”
“Of course I did and you looked fine as hell,” I said. “Every day that passes you look better and better on that stage.”
“Thank you, daddy.”
I hummed at that. “Man, as soon as you touch down…” I didn’t have to finish the statement for Myome to know what was up.
She giggled and I smiled at the sound.
I’d only been able to fly out six times throughout her tour, and although we spoke frequently and video chatted, I couldn’t wait for my wife to be back in the city.
She’d only be back for two months before she was on the road again but we were taking what we could get since I’d probably end up touring off the back of my album in the next year or two as well.
“And trust me, I can’t wait to touch down,” Myome said. “Only three weeks left.”
“It’ll fly by,” I assured her.
“I hope so.” She yawned. “Are you going to make it out one more time or should I just plan to see you when I get back?”
“I can’t promise anything before I walk into these last two meetings, but I will say I’m really trying to be at the closing show.”
“Okay. Well if you can’t make it, I’m not upset about it, Drix. You’ve done a lot to support me throughout this tour. It’s okay to focus on what you need to at home.”
“I know, baby.”
“Good. Don’t stretch yourself too thin.”
I scoffed. “Trust me. I’m trying not to.” I looked at my phone when Rome’s name popped up. “Ay, Rome is calling. I’ll hit you up later.”
“Okay. Love you.”
“Love you.” I swapped over to Rome. “What’s up?”
“Yo. I’m just making sure we’re still on for that lunch thing at four.”
“Yeah. We’re still on.”
“Alright. Cool. I’ll plan my stuff around it and see you then.”
“A’ight. Love you, man.”
“Love you.” He cut the call and I reached forward and flipped music on.
The traffic in the city was crazy, so it took longer to get to my next meeting. When I got there, my lawyer was already waiting. I shook his hand and we made our way to the receptionist. My appointment had been on the schedule for a few weeks now, so they were expecting me.
When we walked into the meeting, there were three men sitting on the far side of the boardroom table. They stood as we entered and introduced themselves. We shook hands and took seats.
I leaned back in mine and looked at my lawyer.
He broke the silence. “Where would you like me to start?”
“Well, I figured since you weren’t aware of how much money we’d put into Myome or the group, we’d start with an offer and go from there.” The man in the middle smiled and I nodded once so he could pull a piece of paper out of his pocket and slide it toward me.
I grabbed it, looked over the number, then passed it to my lawyer. He knew how much I was willing to spend but I shook my head once when he glanced at me anyway.
“Well, we actually were able to get a copy of the costs that have been appointed to Myome as well as the money you’ve invested.
With the half a million advance you gave her, production and touring costs, this number is still ridiculous.
Not to mention most of these numbers should be split evenly between the three women.
Myome wasn’t the only one in the booth and she isn’t the only one touring.
Even then, the women are providing their own clothes and makeup and getting cents on the dollar when it comes to merch.
” My lawyer whistled. Then he grabbed the pen clipped to his dress shirt, scribbled over the number, and wrote a new one.
He passed the paper to me. I glanced at it, nodded, and slid it down the table.
The man in the middle looked at it first then showed it to each of the men beside him. He chuckled and shook his head.
“Why would I give Myome up for that amount?”
“Besides the fact that Radiant Reverie isn’t going to survive three albums?
” I asked seriously. “We’ll take a wash on the tour.
You can keep her cut of the profit. I’ll pay you back her signing bonus and her third of all costs you’ve put into Radiant Reverie with a nice two mill on top.
She’s going to finish this tour and still do the opening act you already had scheduled, so you won’t miss out on money there.
And to make you feel better, I’ll give you twenty-five percent of her profits from the next two albums she puts out. ”
“How are you going to make guarantees on her behalf?” he asked seriously.
“Don’t worry about it. Just say yes or no.”
The man scribbled over the number my lawyer had written and wrote his own. Then, he slid it over to me. I glanced at the paper and nodded.
“Done.”
“Done?”
“Yeah. He’ll get you the paperwork to sign and a cashier’s check for the full amount, no payment plan necessary.”
“One payment?”
“One payment.” I nodded. “Is there a way we can meet in an hour or two? We can exchange money and paperwork then.”
“I’ll actually be in meetings for the rest of the day, but if it’s necessary to get this done today, I’d be willing to meet with you after hours.”
“Cool. Does six-thirty work?” I looked at my lawyer who nodded then back at the chairmen of Myome’s record label.
They nodded. “Six-thirty it is.”
“Cool.” I pushed away from the table and my lawyer hopped up quickly. “Be on time,” I warned.
“Of course.”
I hit him on the back and cast one last look around the room before letting myself out.
Myome would never know about the cut her old label would get because she wouldn’t feel that shit. I’d eat it on my end, and with the money I was sure my new business venture would bring in, hopefully I wouldn’t feel it either.
Would I tell them that? Fuck no.
The more money they thought I had, the more they would have asked for and I wasn’t willing to give it all up front, no matter how good I made it sound. They were getting a good payout but I was coming out on top and so was my wife.
I fought traffic to the bank, got a cashier’s check for the desired amount, then made my way across town again to meet up with the people I was closest to.
Rome and Dashawn were already sitting at a table in the far back corner and I dapped them before I collapsed into a free seat.
“We just waiting on Chandler?” Dashawn asked.
“Yeah.”
“And she is right here.” Chandler huffed as she set her purse on the table and leaned down to give me a half hug. “Sorry, y’all. India was putting me through it.”
“You’re good.”
We waited for her to get settled and put her drink order in. Then all eyes trailed to me.
I clasped my hands on the table and cleared my throat.
“I’m ready to make the jump,” I announced.
“And put out an album?” Rome asked.
“Start a record label,” I said.
“Fuck.” A huge smile took over Dashawn’s face. “Congratulations!” He clapped loudly and several of the people in the restaurant looked back at us.
I let my head fall back and I chuckled.
“So, what’s the move?”
“Wait”—Chandler cut him off and turned toward me—“Is this the right move right now?”
“Dad’s looked at the numbers,” I assured her.
“I’m not going to go crazy or anything but I’ve been looking at buildings to make a lil headquarters and I want us”—I gestured around the table—“To name this shit. As of right now, I’m going to keep shit small, sign ten artists max and focus on them heavily for a few years.
I have a generic contract already drawn up.
It’s low stakes on both ends. I’ll be taking the loss if it comes down to it but I’m down for that.
I’m thinking a sixty-forty split with me getting the sixty but I’ll eat all production and performance costs and give a lil signing bonus.
The contract is going to be for one album, maybe two, or until I make my signing bonus money back.
I’ll eat the loss for what I poured into artists' development. If shit don’t rock, they can move on and so can I. ”
Chandler took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re serious about this?”
“I’m serious and I think I can handle it. Shit. I’ve been damn near managing Rome and Merch this whole time. ”
“I don’t doubt you can handle it, Berlin. I just… want to make sure you’re not going to fucking drown.”
“How I’m gon’ drown when I got y’all?” I lifted an eyebrow and she scoffed.
“Fine. What do you need from me?”
“I want to name this shit and I want you to trademark it. Today.”
“I can start on that.” She nodded. “You’re fucking insane,” she added.
“But we’re proud of you.” Rome hit me on my back.
“That means a lot coming from my first unofficial artist.”
A huge smile took over Rome’s face.
“That’s what the fuck I’m talking about.” He nodded. “You gon’ give me a special percentage decrease?”
“Yeah. I’ll take thirty-five instead of sixty. I know I’ll get my money back from you in some form.”
“Bet.” He took a drink from his glass. “I will say your contract sounds cool for someone starting out. A lot of people sign on the dotted line for an advance and don’t realize they’re immediately in debt and every little bit of work they do is costing them.
At least your way they know they just have to come up off the advance and can get the fuck on. ”
“Yeah. I’m not trying to keep nobody that don’t want to be kept, and even if I sign a few duds, which I won’t, it only takes a few big names to keep shit flowing.”
“That’s real, and ay, people are going to want to sign with you off the strength of your name and connections at the beginning. But once they realize you’re not a shark out here, people will be banging the damn door down,” Dashawn offered.
“So, what are we thinking in terms of naming the label?” Chandler asked.
“Do something with Trill in it,” Dashawn offered. I chuckled.
He, Trapp and I had been a lil stupid ass group for all of three months. We’d gone by the Trill Boys. It was a neighborhood thing we’d done when we were younger and used to run the streets being bad ass kids, some of us more than others.
“That could be a cool homage,” I admitted.
“Okay.” Chandler grabbed a pen and napkin and wrote Trill. “Let’s ask this. What do you want to accomplish by starting this label, Berlin?”
“I want to get out music that isn’t the same old shit repackaged and force fed to people.
” I tapped my knuckles on the table. “I want to start a label that’s mutually beneficial to the label and the artist, something where you don’t get shelved just because you’re human and fuck up sometimes.
” I exhaled. “When mothafuckas walk away from my shit, I want them to be like ‘that nigga Drix may trip sometimes but he’s never done me wrong about my money or my art’. You know?”
“Shit. You’re a lot of things but nobody can say you aren’t loyal.” Dashawn took a drink from his cup.
“That’s right and that’s what I want the brand to be.”
“Trill and loyal?” Chandler questioned then paused. “Trill Loyalty, like a play on words, real loyalty?”
“Trill Loyalty,” I repeated after her.
“Trill Records, where we only sign the real,” Rome joked.
Chandler tilted her head and I grinned.
“Snatch it up, C. Trill Loyalty.”
“Trill Loyalty,” she repeated and nodded.
I watched her fish her phone out and collected my phone. I needed to get a logo. Fast.