Tyler sat in the sleek, modern office of Black Gold Records, the same place he had once only dreamed about. Now, it was real. The large windows let in bright, natural light, casting a glow across the polished black conference table in front of him. Marcus, the label's A&R, was on the other side, already reviewing some papers, a focused look on his face.
Tyler tapped his foot nervously under the table. Even though Mr. Harris had agreed to look over the contract once he got it, he couldn't help but feel the pressure of being in this room, where so many deals were made and broken.
Marcus glanced up, a friendly but businesslike smile on his face. "Tyler, we're really excited to have you here. 'Resurrection'—that was a statement. You've got a unique sound, and Black Gold wants to be part of your journey."
Tyler nodded, trying to keep his cool. "Appreciate that, man. I just want to make sure everything's right, you know? This is big for me."
"Of course," Marcus replied, sliding a folder across the table toward him. "That's why we're here. We've drawn up a preliminary contract, but I always encourage artists to go over everything with their legal team. No rush."
Tyler took the folder, his fingers brushing against the smooth paper. This was it—the moment where things could either go up or fall apart.
Marcus leaned forward, steepling his hands. "Now, here's the deal. We're offering you a standard recording contract. It'll be for three albums over five years, with an option to renew if everything goes well. We'll give you a solid advance to help with production costs, marketing, and personal expenses, of course."
Tyler nodded, listening carefully. His heart was racing, but he kept his face calm. He had to play this smart.
"The royalties," Marcus continued, "will be split in a typical industry fashion—60% to the label, 40% to you. But—and this is important—if you maintain a strong independent brand like you've been doing with 'Resurrection,' we're open to negotiating better terms down the line."
Tyler's mind was running through the percentages. Forty percent wasn't bad, but he had heard stories about artists getting trapped with far worse deals. The main thing was making sure he wasn't locked into something where he didn't own any of his music.
"What about ownership?" Tyler asked, his voice steady.
Marcus smiled, clearly prepared for the question. "Good one. You'll own the publishing rights to your songs, but the label retains control of the master recordings. That's pretty standard. But we're open to collaboration if you want to buy back the masters after the contract's fulfilled."
Tyler nodded, not wanting to push too hard yet. He needed Mr. Harris to dissect every line of this contract before he made any major decisions.
Marcus leaned back, seemingly satisfied with the way the conversation was going. "I know it's a lot to take in, but we believe in your talent, Tyler. Black Gold can push your music to levels that might take years on your own."
Tyler considered that. The street hustle had taught him to be cautious, but also that sometimes you needed to take the leap. He knew Jax believed in him, and now a major label did too. But the contract—it had to be right.
"I'll take it to my lawyer," Tyler said finally, placing the folder in his bag. "I want to make sure everything's cool before I sign anything."
Marcus nodded. "That's exactly what you should do. No pressure. We're not rushing this. When you're ready, we'll move forward."
As the meeting wrapped up, Tyler stood, shaking Marcus's hand. The A&R smiled warmly, walking him to the door.
"Just know," Marcus said before Tyler left, "there's a lot of eyes on you now. The momentum's building and the industry is watching."
Tyler smiled, though his thoughts were elsewhere. "I'll keep that in mind."
On his way home, Tyler's mind raced as he thought about the meeting. The contract had potential, but the terms were tricky. He knew how easy it was to get caught up in the excitement and sign away too much.
The next steps were critical, but at least he had people in his corner, guiding him. But even with all the support, Tyler knew one thing for sure: He had to protect himself at all costs.
Tomorrow, he'd call Mr. Harris. And soon, he'd decide if Black Gold was the move to make.