"Laila, watch TV." Roy came in, hastily knocking on the door from outside, and quickly found the remote control to turn on the television in the hotel room.
Laila was having breakfast at this time, and when she saw him enter, she just raised an eyebrow slightly and asked, "What's going on?"
"Take a look at this!" He said as he tuned the TV to FOX, and there appeared Faiza on the screen.
She had probably just left the hotel and was immediately surrounded by reporters who had been waiting outside.
"I don't know who Barbar Streisand is! All I know is she couldn't have achieved those results!" Faiza seemed irritated at this point, speaking without restraint.
"If you want me to acknowledge her, fine, can't she write songs? Show some skill and write another one of the same level! But this time, she has to write a song for a female singer, Who knows if someone already helped her write a bunch of songs for men!"
She leaned in towards the nearest camera, saying, "I know you're watching, Laila Moran. Just give me a week, and if you can come up with a song for a female singer that's as good as the one before, I'll admit you're a true genius! Remember, I'm giving you one week to prepare. If you can't do it within a week, don't ever claim to be a genius again!"
She seemed like she wanted to say more but was ushered into a car by a tall Arab man standing next to her. The car then pushed through the frenzied crowd of reporters and drove away, leaving behind a trail of exhaust fumes.
Roy looked at Laila and asked, "Boss, what do we do?"
Laila, still eating, didn't even lift her eyelids. "What do you mean?"
"That crazy woman just issued you a challenge! What are you going to do? Can you write it?"
Laila elegantly wiped her mouth and replied, "This is quite interesting. Why should I do what she says? Just obediently follow her instructions?"
Roy was taken aback. After all, he knew his boss well. Laila was not the type to be told what to do, especially by an adversary.
"But if you don't do it, won't it seem like you're afraid?"
Laila chuckled, "Are you so sure that I can write a song? Need I remind you how popular your performance of 'Baby' is right now?"
Roy smiled awkwardly; he had indeed forgotten about that. "Baby" has become extremely popular, not only among Americans but also internationally. Even though it was a live version filled with noise, it had become the most requested song on the radio. It had been played so frequently on television that it felt like an advertisement.
"So, what do we do? Are we just going to let her mock us?" Roy might not know what Laila had in mind, but he knew that his boss was not one to sit idly by. Laila always had a plan.
In fact, like many others, Faiza had led him to a misconception: that writing another hit song should be easy once you've written one. But was it really that simple?
It wasn't.
How many people spent their entire lives without ever composing a hit song, and how many struggled to create just one? Not everyone could write great songs just because they wanted to.
It was the same for songwriting, scriptwriting, and filmmaking. After completing "The Blair Witch," there were people who accused Laila of being a one-hit wonder, unable to produce anything else good.
Songs were no different. Wanting to consistently produce great songs was virtually impossible.
"When did Faiza become so clever?" Laila found this situation rather peculiar. It was unlikely that she suddenly became so eloquent overnight. The only explanation was that someone was coaching her.
Whoever that person was, they were a formidable opponent. Not only did they divert the attention that should have been focused on Faiza onto Laila, but they also threw down a challenge. With such a person around, there might be more interesting things to come.
Laila absentmindedly tapped her chair's armrest with her fingers and smiled with a hint of intrigue.
If it were someone else, they might have fallen for the trap. If Laila couldn't deliver, the public wouldn't care whether it was really that difficult. They would only see that she couldn't produce a three-to-five-minute song within a week, casting doubt on who had created "Baby."
As for the media, they would be eager to see her fail and wouldn't speak in her favor. Perhaps, after she had suffered enough humiliation, they might come to her defense once she had nothing left to lose, but by then, it would probably be too late.
People in the music industry understand how challenging songwriting can be, but don't expect them to come forward to explain it.
For them, Laila was an interloper. Why was a film director suddenly writing songs? Even worse, why did she become so famous? They would prefer her to go back to making movies and stay out of the music industry forever.
But who was Laila? She was the favored child of Lady Luck, possessing the most precious talent in the world—rebirth. What others struggled to create in their lifetime, she could effortlessly produce in abundance.
And, she knew that her songs were all incredibly catchy, classics among classics. Forget about one song; she could easily produce several classic albums.
Faiza considered her a rival, but she was an unlucky woman indeed.
Roy, looking at the smile playing on Laila's lips, couldn't help but shiver. "Boss, what are you up to again? I have a feeling someone's in for some misfortune."
Laila asked with a mischievous grin, "Roy, do you have any favorite female singers?"
"Many, like..."
Before he could name them all, Laila raised her hand to interrupt him. "I mean someone we can groom, someone who can help us make money. Since we're going to write a song, we should choose a performer who can maximize our profits, right?"