Chapter Text
“You did the right thing accepting my offer. I don’t often approach first so count yourself lucky.”
Tweek Tweak felt his left eye close shut before he forced his trembling body to stay still. It was hard to do considering he was being stared down by the CEO of one of the biggest music record labels in Los Angeles. Most recently, World Music Inc. even reached popularity in Europe and Asia, who were notorious to be difficult negotiating business with. In the past, World Music Inc. has hosted several try outs around the globe seeking out artists, musicians, producers, and dancers. Of course, the percentage of who got accepted was incredibly low.
Which was why Tweek was nearly in the state of hysterics.
He came from a small town in Colorado and, like the typical story of a young boy wanting to chase the glamourous dream of being a singer, he left everything behind to start a new life in The City of Angels. It was harder than he thought to jump start something that he always held close to his heart ever since he was a child. He learned very quickly that the daydreams of singing on stage and feeling the thrill that came with performing were easily popped when faced with reality.
The first few months he experienced what it felt like to step into an unknown city. It made him feel alienated when everywhere he turned, he only saw a sea of strangers staring back. He jumped from motels to motels and barely afforded food to keep him full. He managed to finally secure a job at a pub after many unsuccessful attempts. He remained there and with every month that passed, he resigned to the possibility of never becoming a singer.
It's been a year since he arrived in Los Angeles. A year of accepting that he wouldn’t be more than just a performer at a pub. A year of overthinking that caused him to shut out those who he managed to befriend and get close to. A year of agonizing pain of seeing his dream wither and die.
Or so he thought.
Somehow, he received an email from none other than the CEO of World Music Inc. who personally invited him in for an interview. Tweek didn’t bother asking how the CEO managed to get his information or why he was selected, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Despite the nerves, doubts, and anxieties, Tweek decided to take a leap of faith. After all this time, maybe this was going to be his big break.
“Did you know,” continued the CEO and reclined in his chair, “that my record label has produced many great artists this world has ever seen?”
“Yes, sir.”
The CEO chuckled, “Please, call me Mr. Cartman.”
Eric Cartman was a powerhouse of a CEO. Coming from a poor background, he rose from the ashes like a phoenix ready to take on the music world. Many doubted his abilities when he took over the company. However, he proved everyone wrong when he began conducting businesses that became successful and had a knack of finding talented artists that helped create a household name for his record label.
Mr. Cartman put World Music Inc. back on the market. It was enough for Tweek to feel an immense amount of pressure every time those chocolate brown eyes flashed at him. He looked powerful and intimidating in his black suit and tie. The rings decorating his fingers glimmered every time he moved his hands. He oozed authority and Tweek felt miniscule in his presence.
“Between us,” he whispered, leaning forward as if it was some kind of secret, “I can see great potential in you.”
Tweek’s hands were on his lap, and he used the opportunity of it being hidden from view to twist his fingers anxiously. “What do you mean?”
Mr. Cartman stood up and grabbed a cigar from a gold case on his desk. “You mind?”
Tweek shook his head. He actually did and nearly gagged when Mr. Cartman exhaled a cloud of tobacco smoke. Tweek couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose.
“Come with me.”
Tweek scrambled to his feet and reached to grab his encased electric piano.
“Leave it here,” Mr. Cartman waved his hand. “We’ll be coming back.”
Tweek gulped and nodded. He didn’t feel comfortable leaving behind one of his treasured possessions, but he had no choice. Not when a CEO was telling him to do so.
Tweek followed Mr. Cartman with shaky legs. The World Music Inc. building was one of the finest that Tweek had ever seen. He passed by it a hundred times since it was located at the heart of LA. The walls were made of white and gray marble and the carpets were luxurious and dyed a dark red. The lobby was easily the size of a large plaza and Tweek nearly fainted when he saw that there were fifteen floors.
The one they were currently in was at the very top. Mr. Cartman led him to an elevator and promptly pressed a button. They descended and Tweek was trapped in an enclosed space as the CEO continued to smoke. Silence lapsed between them and Tweek hated how he never properly learned how to make small talk without making it awkward.
The doors opened to a floor with several large offices. Some had glass walls, so it was easy to peek in as Tweek followed Mr. Cartman. He saw several desks, tables, chairs, and even some instruments. Tweek realized that each office they passed were personal rooms for the artists signed under the record label. He managed to catch a glimpse of someone playing a tune on a guitar or another cleaning a saxophone. It felt surreal to be in the same space as other people who might already be out in the limelight.
They finally stopped in front of one of the offices and Tweek noticed a golden plaque on one of the doors that was inscribed with CRIMSON DAWN. He didn’t have time to process what the name could have meant before Mr. Cartman opened the doors. Tweek had no choice but to follow him.
Much like all the other offices, the room was as large as three times the size of a studio apartment. Tweek noted a few rounded tables and some rectangular ones with several chairs. There were whiteboards on the walls as well as a projector on the ceiling. There were cubicles with computers and filing cabinets within reach. At the far back, Tweek saw two couches with several instruments cased and on display. Next to the couches was a door that Tweek had no idea where it might lead to.
By the time Tweek looked around the office, his eyes landed on the people seated on one of the tables and they were staring at them. He jumped and gave in to the urge to pull the bottom of his shirt. Their gazes bore heavily into his skin that he nearly felt the burn.
“I’m glad everyone is here,” smiled Mr. Cartman, flicking his cigar and causing ash to fall on the tile floor. “I want you guys to meet Tweek Tweak.”
Tweek wasn’t prepared to meet anyone besides the CEO. The sudden introduction had him grappling for some kind of response, “H-Hi!” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing red.
A young man with a barely seen stubble and messy black hair gave him a once over and turned to Mr. Cartman. “Who’s this guy?”
“Someone interested in the company, Stan,” answered Mr. Cartman, taking another huff of his cigar.
“Really?” drawled another. His arms were crossed over his chest with vibrant red curls styled nicely. His tux painted him as a person of importance. “I didn’t get an email about this very unexpected visit,” spat the man.
“That’s Kyle Broflovski,” said Mr. Cartman, turning to Tweek with a wicked smile, “Better watch out. He could steal your money from right under your nose.”
“I can file a complaint with HR for that!” yelled Kyle, glaring at Mr. Cartman.
Tweek tried to laugh but it came out as a squeak.
“We’re not a zoo, you know,” said Stan and rolled his eyes. He was wearing a rock band t-shirt with ripped jeans and Tweek couldn’t understand why he was dressed so casually in a place like this. Tweek had to rent the suit he was currently wearing since he felt the need to blend in.
“We’re obviously not a zoo,” yawned the last person. While his posture was slumped with his hands in his pockets, his eyes were trained intently on them. His green eyes gave nothing away to what he was thinking. Tweek shivered. He didn’t like his blank look.
“You’re a funny one, Craig,” sneered Mr. Cartman before explaining, “This is Crimson Dawn’s office,” and gestured to the room. “They haven’t debuted yet but I’m currently working on getting them there.”
“Yes, so why are you here?” snapped Kyle, standing up to his full height. Only now did Tweek notice that Kyle was taller than the CEO.
This didn’t deter Mr. Cartman. It only made him smile wider. He ignored Kyle as he strutted right past him to the back door. “Come with me.”
Tweek glanced at the three men with what he hoped was an apologetic look before he scurried after the CEO. He opened the door and showed Tweek what was behind it. Walking in led to another room but smaller. There were several swiveling leather chairs that were placed next to a mixer. On one side was an electric piano while the other had two guitars on a stand. There was also a drum set in the corner.
What caught Tweek’s attention, however, was the recording room in front of the mixer.
His eyes zeroed in on microphones on the other side of the glass panel with headphones hanging from them.
This was a music studio.
Mr. Cartman didn’t say anything, but Tweek felt his gaze on him. He swallowed and tried to flash the CEO a smile. He wasn’t sure why he was giving him a tour of the studio, but he suddenly had the urge to ask if they could stay.
Mr. Cartman stepped out and Tweek dragged his feet, taking one final glance at the studio.
“I’ll send you an email later, Broflovski,” said Mr. Cartman as they left the office.
Tweek managed to catch a wisp of hushed whispers just as the door closed behind him.
“You may be wondering why I’m showing you all of this,” smiled Mr. Cartman as they stood in front of the elevator once more. “I’ll show you why.” He pressed the end of his cigar on an ashtray that was attached to the wall and they stepped in once the doors opened.
They ascended and they exited into a different floor. Instead of offices, it was a gallery with framed posters and pictures of various bands and singers. There were tall glass cases displaying different awards and framed instruments signed. Mr. Cartman kept walking further into the gallery, but Tweek couldn’t help but stop to admire some of the pictures. These were people who Tweek listened to and sometimes felt inspired by. There was a framed photo of the Cult of the Dark who were an indie band that mostly played gothic rock. Over there was a poster signed by a girl group called Starlights whose contracts didn’t get renewed just last year.
“Over here, new kid.”
Tweek hurried over to Mr. Cartman. The CEO was standing in front of three large posters that had their own lights displaying them. He was instantly able to recognize who they were, and he gasped.
“That’s right,” smirked Mr. Cartman, pride lacing his words. “This is Tolkien Black.”
The man in the poster was dark skinned with dreads pulled into a high bun. He was on a stage seated on a wooden stool. He was playing a guitar and had a large smile on his face. Tweek knew that the audience must have loved what they were hearing.
“Tolkien knew what he was doing when he started performing at a shopping center. He was talented at creating 80s style beats. His voice, however, needed some fine tuning,” explained Mr. Cartman. “I decided to give him a chance and he didn’t disappoint. He’s currently on his European tour.”
Mr. Cartman gave a pointed look at the next poster. “You must have heard of Professor Chaos?”
Surprisingly, while Tweek had heard of the heavy metal rock band, he had only listened to two or three of their songs. He wasn’t a big fan of the genre, but he enjoyed some of their music. The main vocalist stood at the center. He was blond with his hair shaved on the sides and his mop of hair on top stuck to his sweaty forehead. His eyes were screwed shut as he sang into the microphone with his electric guitar in his hands.
“Professor Chaos debuted around the time that heavy metal rock was beginning to die down.” Mr. Cartman tsked, “It was a mistake on my part. I thought I sent them out only to be slaughtered.” He slowly began to smile, “Surprisingly, they hit it off well. They continued to be successful despite some scandals.”
Tweek wasn’t too familiar with what scandals Mr. Cartman was alluding to and he didn’t bother to ask when they finally stood in front of the last poster.
“Now this.” Mr. Cartman’s smile was like a cat who finally caught the mouse. His eyes glimmered like diamonds, and he interlaced his hands, resting them on his protruding stomach.
“You’re familiar with Kenny McCormick, yes?”
Tweek couldn’t find the words to properly express the admiration he had for the artist in front of him, so he simply nodded.
Kenny McCormick was the first artist to sign under Mr. Cartman when he took over the company. According to Kenny’s autobiography, Mr. Cartman had approached him when he was performing on Hollywood Blvd. He was one of many artists singing a tune with their guitar case opened with a few coins and bills scattered in it. For some reason, out of all of them, Mr. Cartman approached him and asked to join his record label. Mr. Cartman placed his faith on a young man who was a natural born talent that was overshadowed by his troubled past.
It wasn’t ill placed because not only did Kenny shoot to fame in record breaking speed, but he won a Grammy award as Best New Artist for his first album. From there, success became easy for Kenny McCormick, and he continued to be the best and most famous artist under World Music Inc.
To say that Tweek felt overwhelmed being in the same building that the Kenny McCormick probably walked on was an understatement.
“I’m proud of that kid,” murmured Mr. Cartman. He turned to Tweek. “In your application, you wrote down that the position you would like to apply for was as a solo artist.”
Tweek pulled his attention away from the poster and focused on Mr. Cartman. It took him a while to understand what he was saying before he nodded.
“Yes, Mr. Cartman.”
The CEO seemed pleased and continued, “Unfortunately, I don’t have any open slots for the position.”
In an instant, all the bubbling feelings Tweek was thriving in popped. He fell into a pit of disappointment and sadness. He was so close to getting his dream. Was this Mr. Cartman’s sick way of dangling a bone in front of him? Showing him what he could have got if only there was an opportunity opened for him?
It was sickening to think about and Tweek felt his heart shatter.
“But I do have another position opened,” said Mr. Cartman, slowly enunciating every word. “One that you weren’t looking for but something that might help you get to it later on.”
Tweek felt like he was underwater. He didn’t realize he was holding in his breath until he sharply exhaled. He tried to be subtle about regulating his breathing, but he was sure he was being obvious.
“Wh-What, grr, position?” he stuttered, feeling his body tremble. This wasn’t what he was expecting at all.
“Crimson Dawn has a spot open.” Mr. Cartman smiled, “I remember your resume mentioned something about being a multi-instrumentalist as well as a singer and songwriter.”
Tweek stared at the CEO wide eyed. He couldn’t follow the direction he was heading in. “Yeah—that’s, um, that’s true.”
“I think you’ll fit right in.” He paused, “if you wanted to.”
Tweek blinked several times before working his mouth open, “You want me to join Crimson Dawn?”
“Now we’re talking!” cheered Mr. Cartman as he clapped Tweek on the shoulder with a meaty paw. “The band needs someone as talented as yourself.”
Out of all the madness occurring right in front of him, Tweek found the courage to say, “But I was specifically looking to be a solo artist.”
Mr. Cartman’s large smile slowly turned into a frown. “Now, Tweek, here’s the thing about music in the industry.” He pulled him close and said in a hush whisper, “It’s not easy throwing yourself out there. You know what happens when you do that?”
Tweek gulped and shook his head.
“You drown.” Mr. Cartman let him go and took a step back to give him space. “What you need to do is take one step at a time. Before you know it, you’ll be swimming.”
Tweek shook his head. What should he do? He thought he had finally found an opportunity to achieve his dream, but it was taken from him right when he was starting to see a future within these walls. Instead, he was given another chance for something he never thought about. A band was never in his cards and much less with people he hardly knew.
When Tweek still didn’t answer, Mr. Cartman flashed him a cheshire smile. “I promise I’ll help you get to the position you want. Let’s just start off small for now.”
Tweek knew he had to make a decision. Mr. Cartman was waiting for an answer, and he knew no busy man was patient. He came into this interview expecting to be given the opportunity to finally accomplish his dream. Instead, he was offered something else entirely different.
He thought about the motel he was staying in currently. The carpet infested roaches and the awful stench coming from the mattress. He thought about the ten dollars he had in his account and the worries of what he was going to eat tonight. The pub he worked at could only provide so little when he wanted so much more.
He had no more time to think when he finally answered, “Okay.”
Mr. Cartman’s smile never faltered. “Perfect. Let’s go back to my office so you can sign the contract. The company’s lawyer will go over the details with you.”
Tweek tried to convince himself that he made the right decision even if it didn’t feel like it. Just like how Mr. Cartman said: one step at a time, right?