Pop Star || Yoongi x Reader

50. The Best Deal Ever

Hey Y/N,

It's hashbrownboy.

I go by Aryan these days, but I thought if you would remember me - then it's probably as the "fancy name for pakoda" than anything else.

I do hope this email reaches you..

I was going through our old Ribbon files the other day and I found this sample audio. I heard through old friends that you are trying to buy back your music from our dear ex-boss. He had a sneaky habit of pretending to have written songs that he actually hadn't - you know that the best. Here's an audio of one you wrote and I produced - I hope it helps you in some way.

Cheers

Aryan

"What - Y/N - talk, don't leave me hanging -" Seyeon protests.

You click on the 20-minute long audio attachment and give her an Airpod. "I don't know - but - oh, Seyeon, if this is what I think it is -"

The recording begins to play.
It's the very first sample of Pink Diamond that you ever sang. Hashbrownboy - he was a kid production intern at Ribbon, and with him, you'd made a slower, darker version of your pop hit. While you were recording, DK had interrupted the both of you to tell you that you had a gig that night, and that instead of recording rubbish, you ought to practice.

Listening to your younger self sing makes you terribly nostalgic.

"You sound so cute," Seyeon chuckles. You facepalm. And then the interruption happens.
"...Don't give me that look. I'm just trying to protect you both. Stop this rubbish and get to work..."

DK's tone makes you clench your fists. Back then, you thought it was tough love, that he was just preparing you to face the "real world".
"Rubbish as if - michin sekki," Seyeon swears under her breath.
"Well?" you look at her.

"Don't get your hopes up. It may work as - some kind of circumstantial evidence that he didn't write Pink Diamond. But that's all. Ribbon still would own the master recording,"

"Yeah, well, life isn't a movie where we can take them down with one key evidence, is it?" you sigh.

"Every little helps," Seyeon says, her tone kind. "Look to the future, Y/N. It definitely belongs to you,"

She leaves you with that. The glimmer of hope the recording had given you flickers. You try to shoo away the negative thoughts and focus on replying to Aryan's email. The "fancy pakoda" remark makes you smile. He was always a good kid.

February shifts into March and the sunny snow-free days make you feel more hopeful about the future. The content around your album release was coming out well. The album itself was getting good reactions from most people who were getting to hear it pre-release. DK had managed to lay low and away from your life too.

So, it wasn't too extraordinary for you to hope that today's meeting would go well. With that thought, you step out of the Porsche Cayenne onto the sidewalk. The white mohair Gucci jacket completes your dressed-to-kill/angel of peace duality nicely.

"Y/N! One for the stories, please," Lily grins, pointing your socials phone camera at you. You squint cutely at the sun for a moment.

"Aaaaand we're done," she announces. She skips towards you to show you the photo. It's good, the dusty filter gives you a very 90s vibe.

"Today's the big day," you announce.

"It is, indeed," Monica joins you. The Cayenne leaves, and you enter the modern office building that houses the law firm of Hwang Choi & Gottlieb - your legal representatives.

Everyone has enemies. And DK made plenty in his own company with his own hands. Your lawyers had successfully convinced one of them into cooperating with you. His CFO, a wiry little woman with sharp instincts called Anika, had managed to obtain the power of attorney and was sitting in the office right now. She was ready to negotiate a deal with you for every single track of yours that Ribbon owned. You finally had a real shot at getting back your music, once and for all.

And so it began. The legalese was beyond you but you were good at reading the room. Anika was as eager to get this over with as you were. The proceedings still went for a good two hours. Aryan's audio clip ensured that DK's writing credit on Pink Diamond was removed. It's no victory for the labels as all they care about are the master recordings. But to you, it's everything.

As for those coveted masters, they would be co-owned by you and HYBE, but DK would still get a portion of royalties from the songs he co-wrote. It didn't feel fair, but it was only fair. You had been caught up in this tussle for so long that when the proceedings concluded, and Anika got up to shake your hands, you couldn't believe it was over.

Both of you spend the last fifteen minutes signing a thick bundle of documents.

"Congratulations, Y/N," Anika gives you the slightest smile.
"Thank you, Anika, for cooperating with us on this," you nod.
"Of course. It's a pity we dragged it out so much in the past despite having a fair deal on the table,"
You don't answer immediately. "Well, we've sorted it out for the best, haven't we?"

"Indeed we have."

Anika walks out of the room with you, not making a lot of small talk, but the silence isn't awkward as in your head you are still processing what just happened - that the years' worth of legal tussle with Ribbon has finally come to an end.

It was really, really over.

You don't mind co-owning the records with HYBE. They have given you a far more reasonable deal than Ribbon - a five-year period of ownership and a fifty-fifty revenue split. Ribbon had owned lifetime use rights and you got only twenty per cent of what your music earned. Buying an apartment in Gangnam-gu suddenly felt like a very real possibility.

"Smile a little, Y/N," Monica says once you are all back outside.

"I think I'll cry first," you declare.

Monica snorts. "We can finally put this behind us," she says, "to be honest, I'm sick of contracts and negotiations," she adds disdainfully.

"Um, Monica ma'am -" Lily's concerned voice causes you to look where she's looking. Another car has halted at the curb. From it, looking as fresh and slick as ever in a tweed jacket and aviators, emerges DK.

He flashes a grin in your direction. Behind him is an entourage of men and women dressed in suits. Normally, your reaction would be of unconcealed disgust, but the recent deal has not quite settled in your head, so it is in a worried voice that you ask Monica, "What is he doing here?"