In "The Copper" apartment complex in the bustling heart of Manhattan, sleek and shiny as its namesake, a peculiar sight catches the eye. Cameras, high-quality and expensive, dangle from the necks of a select few individuals who roam the area like predators stalking their prey. The lenses of their devices glimmer in the sun, capturing the details of the bustling city life around them. Unfazed, the passersby give these camera-toting individuals only fleeting glances before continuing on their merry way, unaware of the commotion they unintentionally created.
Meanwhile, the building's tenants who've just stepped out, under the watchful lenses, can't shake the unsettling feeling that they've become the centerpiece of an unspoken exhibit. The feeling, like a sixth sense, tingles their spines as they hurry past the intrusive lenses.
The couple, hand-in-hand, emerge from the luxurious building, blinking against the harsh glare of the sun and the even harsher glares of the camera-toting crowd. The man's eyebrows furrow, a look of confusion creeping over his features as he takes in the scene. "Honey, take a look at that," he whispers, nudging his partner. "Do you think they're... paparazzi?"
His partner, more accustomed to the ways of the city, rolls her eyes and chuckles. "You're so out-of-touch, aren't you? They're probably here for that new starlet," she whispers back, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial tone.
"Which one?" the man asks, his curiosity piqued.
"Lucas Knight, of course. Supposedly, he lives right here in our building!" she exclaims.
"No way!" the man responds, surprise evident in his voice. "Well, if we bump into him, we should definitely ask for a picture or two!" he suggests, a grin creeping onto his face.
---
Inside his spacious apartment, Lucas, is with Neil, sitting on the plush couch, scrutinizing a contract, but looked up when the front door opened. Shawn entered the room, a grim expression on his face.
"So, they're really out there, huh?" Neil sighed, folding the papers into a neat stack.
Shawn nodded, "Seven of them, at last count. They're camping out like vultures," he spat. "Damn paparazzi."
Lucas sighed. "How the hell do they manage to find me every time?" he muttered, exasperation lacing his words.
Neil shrugged, "It's the price of fame, I'm afraid. They're like bloodhounds sniffing out a scent."
Shawn joined the conversation, his voice a mixture of relief and irritation. "At least the security is on point. The building's receptionist and guards sent them packing. They won't be getting through those doors anytime soon."
"Just what I need," Lucas muttered under his breath. "Paparazzi this early in the day." He exhaled, resigned to his newfound fame. "We'd better make our move now, before it gets any crazier out there."
His manager, Neil, nodded in agreement. "We'd better get going if you want to make it to the studio on time."
"Right," Lucas sighed, "We can't keep the team waiting."
Lucas and his entourage needed to head back to the famed Electric Lady Studios to shoot the music videos for the two songs he just finished recording. Besides being a renowned music recording studio, Electric Lady Studios also offered a unique service: they had their own talented team of video professionals who could help artists filmed videos their audiovisual.
The studio's one-stop-shop approach allowed musicians to record their tracks and film their videos all under one roof, streamlining the creative process.
Wasting no time, Lucas, Neil, and Shawn rushed towards the elevator and headed to the building's lowest floor. They decided to use the fire exit, hoping to avoid the waiting horde of paparazzi at the main entrance. However, as soon as the door creaked open, they froze in their tracks.
Waiting for them were not only five paparazzi with high-quality cameras at the ready but also a swarm of about a dozen avid fans, their smartphones at the ready.
The fans' excited chatter silenced as the doors creaked open, all eyes trained on the emerging trio.
"Lucas!" a fan shrieked, her voice carrying through the otherwise quiet alleyway. The paparazzi, ever-opportunistic, were the first to strike, shoving past the barrier and swarming the trio. Flashes of cameras blinded the trio as they tried to shield their faces from the onslaught.
"Damn it!" Neil swore, slamming the fire exit door shut just as the swarm of paparazzi and overzealous fans spilled into the dimly-lit alleyway.
Lucas, Neil, and Shawn didn't even bother to exchange words as they took off in the opposite direction, their footfalls echoing off the damp concrete.
"We've made a mistake!" Shawn huffed, weaving through the maze of alleyways.
"There are more of them back there!"
"They must've been waiting for us!" Lucas exclaimed.
"Wait, Lucas! Just one picture!" a paparazzo shouted, his pleas falling on deaf ears as the trio continued their frantic escape.
Lucas, Neil, and Shawn sprinted towards the main entrance, only to find their escape thwarted by another seven paparazzi waiting in ambush. Thinking on their feet, they doubled back, ducking into the parking lot. Thinking quickly, they doubled back and sprinted towards the parking lot. The paparazzi, hot on their heels, engaged in a pushing match, impeding their own progress.
"He's mine, imbecile! Move!" one paparazzo barked, shoving his way through the throng.
"Are you insane? I've been here first!" his competitor retaliated, shoving back.
The ensuing altercation bought the trio precious seconds to dive into Lucas's waiting car. As the engine roared to life, the commotion caught the attention of the remaining paparazzi.
"Look! They're getting away!" one shouted, the commotion ceasing as quickly as it started.
Several paparazzi hopped on their motorbikes, revving their engines as they gave chase.
Lucas couldn't help but chuckle, despite the gravity of the situation. "They're relentless, I'll give them that," he mused, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of the motorcycle-riding paparazzi in the rearview mirror. "They must have picked up their tricks in LA."
"Shawn, lose them!" Neil barked, gripping the armrest as the car accelerated.
"No problem, boss," Shawn said with a cocksure grin.
The sleek car weaved in and out of traffic, making a series of sharp turns: right, then left, and another right. Even Lucas and Neil, who knew Manhattan, were disoriented.
They barreled down narrow alleyways, tires squealing, until finally, the persistent paparazzi were left in their dust.
"I think we've lost them," Neil breathed in relief, loosening his vice grip on the armrest.
"Finally," Lucas breathed, wiping the sweat from his brow as they pulled up to the nondescript building that housed Electric Lady Studios. "Let's get this over with."
Shawn and Neil nodded in agreement, grateful to leave the chaos behind them, at least for now.
As they alighted from the car, they breathed a collective sigh of relief, spotting no paparazzi in sight. They made their way to the designated studio where the video production team awaited.
John, the A&R rep from Big Machine Records, greeted them with open arms. "Lucas, Neil! Glad to see you again." He clapped Lucas on the back, ushering them inside the bustling studio.
Inside, the video production team was deep in discussion, storyboards and budget sheets strewn across the table. John motioned for them to take their seats.
"Gentlemen, we've already begun brainstorming some ideas for the music videos. We've got a great concept that will relates to the people," the video director, Lily, said, enthusiasm brimming in her voice.
"Budget-wise, don't you worry," John interjected, "the label's got your back. We're all in on making these songs, and your debut, a resounding success."
As Lucas and the production team delved deeper into the video's intricacies, John cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "Lucas, I have a request."
Lucas looked up, brows raised. "Shoot."
John took a deep breath. "Taylor's interested in being featured in the 'Let Her Go' video." He handed over the revised storyboard. "She'll be the one you'll let go in the music video."
Lucas chuckled, unsurprised by John's request. "Well, it's not like she hasn't been subtle about it," he quipped, recalling their last meeting. "Alright, let's do it. We can't say no to T-Swift."
John beamed, sensing Lucas's approval. "Oh, one more thing, can we give her a line or two in the video?"
Lucas shrugged, sipping his coffee. "Sure, why not?"
John breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't worry, it's not in the original song, just for the video."
"Whatever floats your boat," Lucas said nonchalantly.
After an hour of ironing out the details, they were finally ready to head to the shooting location.
Lucas and his entourage bumped into Taylor and her manager, Robert, in the parking lot. The group exchanged greetings before piling into their respective cars and headed to the shooting location.
The video production team no longer needed an actress to play the part of the girl Lucas would let go of in the "Let Her Go" music video. With Taylor Swift now involved, they saved both time and resources. They arrived at a rundown apartment building, which would serve as the perfect location for the shoot. The makeup and wardrobe department transformed Lucas into a heartbroken mess, mirroring the song's somber theme.
Lily, the new but capable director, explained the scene to Lucas, "You'll be lying on the bed, staring at the old ceiling."
Lucas nodded, already slipping into character. Despite her inexperience, Lily's eagerness to learn from Lucas's acting experience was evident, and he was more than happy to share his knowledge.
Taylor watched as Lucas immersed himself in the role. As the cameras rolled, he began singing the heart-wrenching song, his eyes glazed over with emotion.
Taylor couldn't help but be impressed by Lucas's acting skills. For someone one year her junior, his talent surpassed even the most seasoned of actors.