Harper's album was a success. It wasn't just the kind of modest hit Jason had hoped for—it was making real waves. Reviews from music blogs and indie publications were overwhelmingly positive, praising the raw emotion and stripped-down production. Fans on social media shared the songs, pouring out stories of how Harper's lyrics resonated with them. For Jason, this felt like a major turning point, not just for the label, but for himself.
However, with success came new challenges—ones Jason hadn't fully anticipated.
One afternoon, Jason sat in the studio, staring at the sales numbers for Harper's album. They weren't astronomical, but they were good—really good for an indie release with no major label backing. The streams were growing daily, and Harper was being invited to perform on several smaller platforms that catered to indie artists.
Max walked in, a cup of coffee in hand and a grin on his face. "I've been telling you, man. This is just the start. We're onto something huge here."
Jason nodded, but his excitement was tempered by the thoughts swirling in his head. "Yeah, I know. But the more attention we get, the more we're going to have to deliver. Harper's one artist—what happens next?"
Max sat down across from him, taking a sip of his coffee. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, this is great," Jason said, gesturing to the numbers on the screen. "But we've set a standard now. We're going to need to bring in more artists, more projects, and keep the momentum going. And we're still working with a skeleton crew. It's just us, Max."
Max chuckled. "Is this you starting to worry again?"
Jason sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not worried, just... thinking ahead. If we want to build something sustainable, we can't rely on one artist. Harper's amazing, but we need to be able to do this with more than just her. Otherwise, we're going to hit a wall."
Max leaned back, considering Jason's words. "You're right. We're going to need more artists, and soon. But this is a good problem to have. We're in a position to grow, not just survive."
Jason nodded, appreciating Max's optimism. He knew they needed to move fast, but he also didn't want to rush things. The whole point of this label was to avoid the pitfalls of the commercial machine—to focus on real music and meaningful connections between the artists and their fans. But he couldn't deny that the pressure was building. Success came with expectations, and if they didn't deliver, they could lose everything they'd worked so hard to build.
That evening, as Jason was about to leave the studio, his phone buzzed. It was an unknown number. He hesitated before answering, his gut telling him this could be something important.
"Hello?" Jason said cautiously.
"Jason Chen?" a smooth voice asked on the other end of the line.
"Yes, this is Jason. Who's calling?"
"This is Marissa Andrews, head of talent acquisition at Zenith Records. We've been following your progress with your new label. Harper Morrison's album is quite impressive."
Jason's grip on the phone tightened slightly. Zenith Records was one of the biggest labels in the industry. They were the kind of corporate powerhouse he had tried to escape from—the kind that cared more about profits than artistic integrity.
"What can I do for you, Marissa?" Jason asked, keeping his voice neutral.
"Well, we've seen what you've been building, and we think it's fantastic. We love Harper's work and the vision behind your label. I wanted to talk to you about potential opportunities for collaboration."
Jason's stomach twisted. "Collaboration? What exactly do you mean?"
"Zenith is always on the lookout for fresh, innovative talent," Marissa said smoothly. "We think you've tapped into something special, and we'd love to help you scale it. There's a lot of potential in what you're doing, but we could help take it to the next level. More resources, better marketing, distribution—everything you'd need to grow."
Jason's mind raced. He knew what this was. Zenith wasn't offering to help—they wanted to absorb him. They wanted to take what he and Max had built and turn it into just another cog in the industry's machine. He had seen it happen before, with countless other indie labels that had started with good intentions only to be swallowed whole.
"I appreciate the interest," Jason said carefully, "but I'm not looking to partner with a major label right now. We're focused on keeping things independent."
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Marissa spoke again. "I understand your hesitation, but I think you should consider it. We're not looking to take control. We're interested in a partnership—letting you do what you do best while giving you the resources to reach a wider audience. Think about it, Jason. The industry is tough, and going it alone is risky. We could make sure you're successful."
Jason felt a flash of anger. The last thing he needed was someone telling him how risky his choices were. He knew exactly what risks he was taking. That was the whole point—he was betting on himself, on the artists he believed in, and on the integrity of the music.
"I appreciate the offer," Jason said firmly, "but we're going to keep doing things our way. If that changes, I'll let you know."
There was a slight edge to Marissa's voice when she responded. "Alright, Jason. But don't wait too long. Opportunities like this don't come around often."
Jason hung up, the weight of the conversation settling over him. He knew he had made the right choice, but it didn't make the pressure any easier to handle. Zenith was right about one thing—going it alone was risky. But the alternative? Letting them take control? That wasn't an option.
As the days passed, Jason felt the weight of his decision more heavily. Running an independent label was hard work—there were no safety nets, no guarantees of success. Every new project, every new artist, was a gamble, and there was always the risk of failure.
Late one night, after another long day in the studio, Jason sat alone at his desk, staring at the mountain of paperwork in front of him. Contracts, budgeting spreadsheets, promotional plans—it was endless. He hadn't signed up for this part of the job, but here he was, doing it all.
Max walked in, looking just as tired as Jason felt. "You okay, man? You've been staring at those papers for hours."
Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... trying to keep my head above water."
Max sat down across from him, a knowing look on his face. "I heard about the call from Zenith."
Jason frowned. "How did you—"
"I have my ways," Max said with a smirk. "Look, I get it. They're offering you the easy road. More money, less risk, more exposure. But you know what that means."
"Yeah," Jason said, leaning back in his chair. "It means giving up control. Letting them turn us into just another part of their empire."
Max nodded. "Exactly. And that's not what we're about. We've come too far to sell out now."
Jason stared at the papers on his desk, feeling the exhaustion settle deep into his bones. "It's just... this is harder than I thought it would be, Max. I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I didn't think it would be like this."
Max chuckled. "Welcome to the world of running a label, my friend. It's not glamorous, but it's worth it. We're building something real here, something that matters."
Jason looked up at Max, appreciating his unwavering optimism. "You're right. I just... I don't want to let anyone down. Not you, not the artists, not myself."
Max grinned. "You won't. We've got this. One step at a time, alright?"
Jason nodded, feeling a little lighter. "Yeah. One step at a time."
A few days later, Jason was scrolling through music blogs, searching for fresh talent. He'd been doing this for hours, trying to find the next artist who could fit into the label's growing roster. He didn't want to rush the process, but the pressure to find someone new was growing.
Just as he was about to give up for the night, a video caught his attention. It was a live performance in a small coffee shop, filmed on someone's phone. The audio quality was rough, and the lighting was terrible, but the voice that came through the speakers stopped Jason in his tracks.
The singer was a young woman, probably in her early twenties, with a voice that was raw and powerful. Her lyrics were haunting, filled with emotion and vulnerability, and the simple acoustic arrangement only added to the intensity of the performance.
Jason watched the entire video, captivated by the honesty in her music. This was the kind of artist he was looking for—someone real, someone with a story to tell.
He quickly jotted down her name: Anna Reed.
Jason immediately sent the video to Max with a message: "We need to find her."