Chapter Text
From: tartaglia @ fatuirecords . com
To: zl @ universal archon music .com; zhongli_morax@ goggles . com
Dear Zhongli-xiansheng,
How are you?
We’ve briefly met at the independent artists’ festival but just in case, I’m extending my hand again for a dinner invitation. This is Childe Tartaglia, the new CEO of Fatui Records, and I’m interested in making music with you.
Kindly indicate when you are free. I’ll adjust my schedule to yours.
Sincerely,
Childe Tartaglia
Chief Executive Officer
Fatui Records, Inc.
From: tartaglia @ fatuirecords . com
To: zl @ universal archon music .com; zhongli_morax@ goggles . com
Dear Zhongli-xiansheng,
It seems my previous email was buried amongst your pile of very important messages. Hence, sending you one again to extend a dinner invitation, at any restaurant of your choice.
Excitedly awaiting for your positive response.
Sincerely,
Childe Tartaglia
Chief Executive Officer
Fatui Records, Inc.
From: tartaglia @ fatuirecords . com
To: zl @ universal archon music .com ; zhongli_morax@ goggles . com
Dear Zhongli-xiansheng,
My secretary tells me that your secretary has not returned our calls.
Hence, extending my dinner invitation once again, at any restaurant, and giving you this VIP card for your buffet preferences. I’ll hire a chauffeur to fetch you to and from work for our meeting, of course for your convenience.
Hoping for your reply soonest.
Sincerely,
Childe Tartaglia
Chief Executive Officer
Fatui Records, Inc.
Universal Archon Music Building, Liyue
“Still tracking your mysterious bard?” Venti hands out a teacup and sits down beside Zhongli. They are in a deserted designated break room, taking a late lunch at 4 in the afternoon. The green-haired composer and lyre player checks his own iPad screen full of webpages listing for-sale aged wines. After adding to cart his selections, he goes back to the app that helps him annotate the melodies inside his head. “No result, huh?”
Zhongli, the head producer assigned for the classical section of the company, shakes his head. “I’ve sent out notices to the talent centers and companies we’re affiliated with. Not one single, relevant reply.” He stares at his now-empty bowl of bamboo shoot soup in deep thought.
“Aww, that sucks. Have you ever wondered if Tsaritsa is impeding your search from continuing?”
The producer takes a millisecond to consider that possibility. “I’ve used every method I know to hide my tracks. Fairly confident that the boss doesn’t know this…side mission.” He takes a sip of his teacup and feels slightly relaxed by its near-bitter taste.
“What I couldn’t get is why you are refusing to seek her help. With everything out, you’ll have an easier time locating that talent.” Eyebrows frowned, Venti’s usual happy-go-lucky demeanor dims as he struggles to structure the next musical phrase. His current project, one that should have started in three months, began last week at the behest of the company CEO. His last album, instrumentals for a hit game, has garnered quite a core fanbase and has been selling well. This time period should have been part of his vacation break.
As such, Zhongli stares at his friend and lets out a derisive snort. “And risk their creative freedom be on a chokehold by this company’s contract when found? You should know better than that, Venti. We’re barely surviving from the workload and demands here.” Meanwhile, the producer is in the middle of supervising two projects, one a rerecording of select Chopin nocturnes and the other a soundtrack for a short film, that has been eating all his time. His own personal project has been put into a halt for three years.
“Ahaha! Right, right. Hmm…maybe you have to look outside our circle? You know, explore the possibilities that they may come from Fatu-“
“Fatui Records will never let this writer out of their sight, especially that they’re on the move to build their classical portfolio.”
“Well, I was merely suggesting because what if it’s a writer who wants to transfer to us nonetheless?” Then in a whisper, the composer questioningly mutters, ‘Heavens, but why would they want to be in this shitty ass company?’ He jots down his notes faster.
Teacup in mid-air, Zhongli wonders aloud, “That piece is a signal for help? Hmm, I’ve never thought of it that way.” After a few moments, he slowly sips the remaining tea and lets the aroma do its calming magic.
“That aside, to be honest, I’ve never seen you so attached to a song like right now.”
“…I admit that I am curious on what went through the writer’s mind while they were producing this.” The producer places the empty cup down and closes his eyes, measuring his breath.
“Dang Morax, you have it bad. You sound like you’re in love with it or something.”
“This song, I cannot exactly place for who it is.” Zhongli opens his eyes and stands up to prepare himself another cup of tea. “I think this is partly why I continue to be held by it.”
Morax Studio, Universal Archon Music Building
There are three singular truths running around Zhongli’s mind as he closes his dimly-lit studio’s door and walks over his work station to settle down. He connects his phone to the speakers and lets the song he has been repeatedly listening to gently swim throughout the room.
First, he is tired and numb. Music has been calling his soul and flowing in his everyday thought since he was young but he feels like a candle hanging on to its last layers as the fire of the industry’s hustle and bustle consumes him. He has not wrote a single piece in recent memory that truly moved him, only composing songs when a situation necessitates for it. Even then, he has a hard time grasping the straws of external inspiration and ends up beating deadlines by mere hours or minutes.
He used to weave melodies after a morning shower of plum blossoms. He used to have the ability to hear a song after witnessing a poignant scene. He used to wake up at ungodly hours because a musical phrase won’t leave him alone. Yet, after 17 years of being involved in professional music production, he feels like a dried-up well.
Second, Zhongli knows that perhaps a sabbatical would help him. He has, after all, advised younger colleagues to take a break of a year or two when burn out befalls them. However, the award-winning producer has forgotten how to relax, how to rest his mind amidst the continuing crawl of the city. He is afraid that taking a leave might persuade him to leave this life behind for a longer while or it may prove ineffective as his thoughts circle from one unfinished project to another. And while he considers Venti and Guizhong his dear friends, he finds that he cannot confide in them. He has always been viewed as the reliable one, the paragon of unwavering hard work and discipline. To disappoint them is tantamount to a sadness he is not ready to face.
As such, here he is in his studio, singularly lighted by the starconch lamp he bought from Yaoguang market months ago, heart being moved for the first time in years by a mysterious composer. This is his third truth: he must find this person and ask them to compose with him. If only to feel something, to feel more alive than the humdrum of his polished routines.
‘I will look for you among the people’, the tenor's rich voice promises as the song rests from a high. Zhongli wants to believe them, badly. It strikes him on how simple the words are yet how they feel like proverbial arrows spreading warmth in his chest. For a man his age, early 30s and no prospects in sight (mainly due to his stubborn resolve to focus on his career), the longing to be seen slowly but surely crawls out of a long-forgotten corner.
Perhaps he is lonely and lost too.
From: zhongli_morax@ goggles . com
To: tartaglia @ fatuirecords . com
Dear Mr. Tartaglia,
Please meet me at Moonlit Bamboo Café at 4pm, on Tuesday. Will that be amenable to your schedule? Let me know.
Regards,
Zhongli
Producer
Moonlit Bamboo Café, Liyue
A red-haired, fresh-faced man with the widest smile waves Zhongli over to the back corner of the café. He offers a seat to the producer, even going so far as to pulling the chair and tucking the latter in. As soon as he settles down, he prepares two teacups from a fresh pot of green tea and places one in front of Zhongli.
“l’m Childe Tartaglia. Thank you for carving time for this meeting.” The young CEO slightly bows his head causing Zhongli to return the gesture. Flat blue eyes stared at the producer with enthusiasm.
“It is nice to meet you again, Mr. Tartaglia.” With this, Childe’s expression brightens significantly. Zhongli thinks how child-like this person is being.
“Please, the pleasure is all mine. What can I do for you today?”
“I propose a contract.”
Tartaglia schools his expression into a serious one and nods.
The producer slowly grasps the teacup and looks into his eyes. “I cannot be one of your company’s exclusive music producers; however, after my contract with Universal Archon expires, I can produce for 3 of your talents from time to time. This is only if you will willingly aid me in my search for an anonymous songwriter. I will submit samples for a talent of your choosing once we succeed.”
“So…correct me if I’m wrong but your condition is to help you find a person? Who has cloaked themselves in anonymity and therefore might take you time to convince them to reveal themselves?”
“That is right.”
Eyebrows furrowing, the executive takes a sip while he considers the situation. “What if they’ve hidden themselves because of personal reasons and circumstances? Rejection, fear…”
“If they give me a sign that I should stop pursuing this, I’ll respect them.”
“What will happen to our contract then?”
“I will still keep my side of the contract and produce for your talents. Be reassured, Mr. Tartaglia, that I do not break my word.” Zhongli hopes that his will and determination have been conveyed even though he still has not done anything yet to prove his intentions.
Tartaglia surprisingly chuckles after a short pause. “Zhongli-xiansheng, don’t you think I’d need a collateral for this? You will use my resources while I just hang on a less than 50/50 probability that this person will appear?”
The producer lapses into silence as he considers a way to make this work. He has expected that this negotiation will ask for a possibility different than his initial offer. “Fair enough. Then, with or without results, I will work with one of your talents.”
“That’s more like it! I knew we can compromise well. We can put these into writing but I have a last question.” The CEO claps and gleefully smiles as if he won a coveted prize.
“I’m listening.”
“Why do you want to meet them?”
Zhongli has expected this question too but he cannot help the shiver that goes through his spine. “They can teach me something I have forgotten to do, something I have been ignoring to learn.”
“Do you have any initial clues or leads to the identity of your writer? I imagine you would not want me to hear the sample to prevent my company from pirating this person. However, I need to know the medium with which they sent the piece so my trusted investigators can have something to work with.”
Zhongli leans in and promptly shows the email sent on his phone. Only a sentence and an alias, the veteran producer assumes, accompanies the music attachment. He observes the miniscule hardening of Tartaglia’s expression, after which the latter keeps his face blank. Finally, after a long moment of staring, the CEO nods his head as if imprinting what he read on his mind.
With a twinkle in his eye, he looks back at the older again. “I’ll help you find them, your ‘Zander’.”
“Thank you, Mr. Tartaglia.”
Tartaglia cocks his head to the side and flashes a small smile. “Please, xiansheng, call me Childe.”
Fatui Records Branch Office, Liyue
Clearing his throat, Zhongli walks through the eighth floor hallway as he thinks of how fast Childe was able to track down a lead. He’s been tracking down Zander for months with no valuable progress but the young CEO messaged him within two days, saying they have to personally meet as soon as possible due to exciting findings. It is why he is here at 8 in the morning at Fatui Records despite being a workday, nerves buzzing behind the placid mask. (Thank goodness, he saved a lot of vacation leaves.)
Oh, to have money and unlimited resources, he sighs as he follows Childe’s secretary. They stop at the end of the hall, in front of a huge two-door mahogany entrance. The secretary knocks thrice, twists the knob open, and bows entering in.
“Mr. CEO, I’ve brought Mr. Zhongli in.”
“Good morning, Childe.” Zhongli sees Childe and another person, a golden-haired, baby-faced man with a pleasant aura, waiting for him at the office’s sofa-set reception area. They exchange bows and the thought that the stranger might be the key to his search makes the producer’s heart thunder.
“Likewise, Zhongli-xiansheng. Please, help yourself with the morning tea set.” Childe directs Zhongli to sit on the long couch beside him with the stranger settling for the one-seat. The producer notices the untouched tea and light snacks on the table, stomach grumbling a bit at the sight. “This is our guest for today. One of our in-house sound engineers here, Aether.”
Zhongli looks to the side and sees the man already returning his nod.
The executive adds nonchalantly while pouring tea for the producer, “Oh, he is also Zander. My sources have tracked him down quite easily.”
“W-what?” Eyes widening, Zhongli whips between Childe and Aether back and forth, the questions arising in his mind mixing with the growing shock.
Aether immediately responds upon seeing the producer whiten at every millisecond that passes, “One half of Zander. Damn it boss - look at him; he looks pale. Do you want water?”
“I got it. Here, xiansheng. Drink this.” As if out of thin air, Childe produces a glass of water and gently hands it to Zhongli. “Sorry, I should have been more careful. I was quite pleased to tell you.”
After gulping down the entire glass, the producer asks in a visibly calmer manner, “Let me backtrack, for the sake of clarity. You are Zander?”
“I am half of the duo who makes up ‘Zander’. Ch-Boss filled me up with what happened, and it seems that my friend, the other half of the duo, finally sent the piece to you. I assume that you like it, seeing that you’ve been searching for us for months already.” Aether pushes a plate of macarons towards Zhongli.
“Yes, I did. But, pardon me, but I am confused.”
“Mhmm. I imagine you that would be.”
Zhongli gets the teacup near him and lets the warm temperature clear his head. “May I ask why the piece arrived at my lap?”
The sound engineer hides a smile and swiftly looks up. “If my friend were a bit more courageous, he would have been chatting with us right now and explaining himself. He is the one who reimagined Tchaikovsky's ‘The Swan’ into ‘Notte Stellata’, you see. Said that he would like to respond to that sample you dropped at softcloud three years ago.”
“Oh, a response to that work.” The producer remembers the piece he teased through the music site, a supposed sampler to the personal project he ended up not working back to. He takes a sip of the tea, lost in the memory of an unfinished work.
“Yup. He said it shot his inspiration to the galaxy. That friend really took a while to write the lyrics and to form his vision for the piece. However, when we finished recording and arranging, he suddenly hesitated and told me that he’ll take his time before giving it to you. He can be awfully awkward when it comes to his idol.”
This makes Zhongli smile, touched that someone still looks up to him. “Then why do you think he sent it recently? Do you think he may be in trouble?”
Aether looks at Childe for a split second then back to Zhongli, and laughs. “Is that your subtle way of asking if he is okay? Ahaha, I promise you that he’s been happy these days. As for the timing of the gift, I suppose he thinks it is the right time? But ah, this is something that only he can explain.”
Letting out a sigh of relief, the producer steels himself and slightly bows his head again. “Oh, I’ve been terribly rude. I haven’t expressed my gratitude yet for the wonderful piece. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for letting me listen to Notte Stellata. I look forward to your future releases and if possible, to work with you. Let me take you and your friend out for a meal, please. ”
“It would be my honor, Zhongli-xiansheng. Perhaps we can exchange contact numbers so my friend can meet you too when he is ready? If that is alright.” The sound engineer reaches for a calling card from his suit pocket.
“Alright. May I get your friend’s contact number? I would really like to extend my thanks as early as now, if this is okay.”
Aether types a message on his phone and after a while, smiles while shaking his head. He scribbles a phone number on the back of his own calling card and hands it to Zhongli. “I do hope he decides to appear before you."
Zhongli:
sent 5:32 PM
Hi, This is Zhongli. I asked Aether for ur # & he said u are ok w/ this. Anyway, thank u for sending the piece. It is beautiful & I keep on thinking that I do not deserve such gift. I want to say more but I’ll say them when we’re talking f2f. I respect ur privacy and decision & hence, I will wait for the day u are willing to meet.
---
He scoops out his phone from his pocket after feeling it vibrate. Opening his messaging app, he is not surprised to see Zhongli’s name yet the guilt curling in his stomach threatens to amplify the fear he has and overshadow the joy he feels. To listen to the producer personally give his work praise and to know that he was being searched for send chills in his bones.
And yet, and yet.
He thinks it is not yet time to wear his heart on his sleeve. His hands grip the phone tighter, trying to fight off the wave of anxiety.
Ajax:
sent 5:40 pm
you are welcome. glad you like it.