After reading the New York Times report, Eric angrily threw the newspaper to the ground.
Eminem, that rogue hooligan, had indeed started to chase fame and act up.
His new single, "Just Lost It," contained lyrics that were overtly and shamelessly insulting to MJ.
For example, this line: "Come here little kiddies on my lap."
"I done touched on everything but little boys."
"Bend now, touch your toes, and just glide."
"Like TP for my bunghole."
These lyrics were a blatant insult, treating the rumors of MJ's pedophilia as amusing anecdotes for his mockery and abuse.
Perhaps some might think that rap is inherently about confronting what you dislike, that it's simply rap culture.
They might argue that Eminem was merely employing this style and bore no ill will towards Michael.
Such a notion is utter nonsense; do they think everyone is blind? It's easy to see whether there's malice or not.
This guy even knew to cover himself, writing two lines of lyrics to indicate he was joking.
"That's not a stab at Michael, that's just a metaphor."
"I'm just psycho, I go a little bit crazy sometimes."
Since he knew to cover himself, he must have known how idiotic and malicious his actions were, which is why he took precautions to avoid backlash.
After some thought, Eric dialed Michael's number. It had been a while since they last met, and he wondered if his single was ready.
The phone rang a few times before connecting.
"Hi, Eric." MJ's somewhat low voice came from the other end.
"What's wrong, Michael? You sound a bit down."
"Nothing, just a little something on my mind."
"Is it because of Eminem's new song? I just saw the newspaper."
Michael paused: "You know about it too? I don't even know this person, and I don't understand why he would insult me like this!"
Eric said coldly: "Michael, as I've told you, you are too kind, and you always assume others are as kind as you are, but there are many vipers in this world.
"Eminem, that guy, is clearly trying to use your fame to hype himself up. For profit, such a mad dog won't care about others."
"Why would he do this? I truly don't understand. Eminem has already won an Oscar for Best Original Song and made a name for himself in the rap scene, yet he still resorts to such despicable methods."
Michael's voice was clearly tinged with anger. He rarely lost his temper in public or in front of the media, always maintaining his composure, only showing anger to friends and family.
"Because in the eyes of such scoundrels, song sales are paramount. For sales, let alone insulting you, he would curse the whole world to die. Some people simply have no bottom line."
"Michael, don't let others exploit your kindness. Take up the weapon of the law; you must sue him and make him apologize publicly."
Michael hesitated: "Is that a good idea? My court hearing is also coming up soon. I'm worried that suing him now would not only be useless but would further escalate the situation."
"You think this scoundrel will use the trial to attack you? Will he use the incident to amplify his hype?"
"Yes, since he chose to believe rumors and insult me, it's not impossible for him to go further. There are too many people who don't know the truth right now. To be honest, I actually hope the trial comes quickly so I can clear my name."
Gently tapping the table, Eric pondered for a moment, feeling that Michael's choice might be more reasonable, and he himself had been a bit impulsive.
Taking legal action now might indeed not be a good time. When the truth comes out, even if these guys continue to be stubborn,
Then Michael wouldn't need to sue; fans and a large number of self-proclaimed righteous people would naturally tear them apart.
"Michael, perhaps you are right, but I'm still unwilling to let him off so easily. If there are media interviews, just maintain your composure. I will definitely curse him out. It's not my first time confronting someone anyway, who's afraid of whom?!"
Michael chuckled, his tone considerably lighter.
"Don't worry, Eric, I won't do nothing either. Don't forget, our song is already finished."
"Really?" Eric was pleasantly surprised.
"Yes, the MV shoot was mostly completed last week. These past few days, I've been using personal connections to contact some radio stations, mainly Black radio stations. I think it's ready for release."
Hearing this good news, Eric was also very excited.
"That's great! I'll contact DreamWorks immediately to prepare for release. Michael, 'Rolling in the Deep' is perfectly timed. Let's teach this little punk a lesson and show him what a real song is."
Michael emphatically hummed in agreement: "Eric, I'll leave this to you."
"No problem, I guarantee DreamWorks will go all out. And when David Geffen sees the profit, unless he's a fool, who would turn down money?"
The two chatted for a while, and before they knew it, the conversation turned to the upcoming launch of Facebook.
Perhaps having received so much help from Eric, Michael had been unable to find a suitable opportunity to reciprocate. After roughly understanding Facebook's function, he expressed his willingness to join.
"Eric, let me help you with something too. And this social format you mentioned is very trendy. I like new popular things, just like when MSN came out, I was among the first to use it, although I don't use it anymore."
But this time, it was Eric who hesitated.
"Michael, honestly, I don't want to involve you, because once you activate a Facebook account, not only will fans follow you, but it will also attract a large number of haters' insults and attacks."
"Before, these guys could only say a few things in forums, chat rooms, or offline, and once said, they were said. At least we were out of sight, out of mind."
"But if you open an account, you'll have to face these attacks directly, and I don't want it to affect you."
But Michael seemed determined and insisted.
"Eric, I ask you, can my presence bring attention to Facebook?"
"Yes, and a very significant amount of attention. Even those who curse you won't open an account just to curse you. As long as they participate in social interaction, every user will eventually become a part of Facebook, which will help Facebook grow into a towering tree."
"Then what are you hesitating for? Not only will I participate, but I will also mobilize my friends. You can also get the celebrities around you involved. The ripple effect of celebrities is always stronger than that of ordinary people, right?"
Michael's suggestion instantly hit Eric's sweet spot.
He slapped his forehead. Had his brain been fried back then? How could he have forgotten the best card in his hand?
No matter when, celebrity effect is the best attraction for the general public, especially young people.
Think of Weibo in China; although the vast majority are fake fans, even if each celebrity only accounts for one-tenth of active real fans, the combined number is still extremely terrifying.
On international social media platforms like Twitter, YouTube, and Facebook, the number of celebrity fans is even more staggering.
He had really been limited by David Fincher's "The Social Network" and had forgotten this trump card.
Imagine the immense traffic that would be generated when big and small celebrities like J, Spielberg, Sylvester Stallone, Johnny Depp, Hopkins, Edward Norton, Julianne Moore, Nicole, and the Olsen Sisters successively open accounts.
Coupled with the already formulated promotion strategy, conquering 4,000 universities across the United States in two months is no longer the goal; occupying the entire United States is.
"Thank you, Michael, you've opened up a new perspective for me. I also have a suggestion for you: recruit a few people specifically to manage your account, especially during this current period. Make sure to delete comments."
"Hmm, I understand what you mean. Maria is calling me. Let's talk another time."
"Wait, Michael, there's one more thing I think I need to tell you."
"What?"
"Regarding your trial, I can try to obtain some evidence that is favorable to you, but I must have your consent."
This time, Michael was silent for a long time. If Eric hadn't heard his breathing, he would have thought he had hung up.
After a while, he finally spoke: "Will it involve violent means? I don't want the child to be harmed. He must have been coerced by his parents."
"No, don't worry, I also believe the child is innocent."
"Alright then, thank you, Eric. Your presence is truly so important, like a savior in my life."
After hanging up the phone, Eric finally felt reassured.
Even though he had helped MJ a lot, the United States is different from China; there's an emphasis on boundaries between people.
Even between parents and children, or lovers, there must be necessary distance and privacy.
So, without Michael's consent, he wouldn't secretly resort to means, as that might instead cause dissatisfaction from the other party.
This time, Eminem's insults and provocations, coupled with recent frequent media reports of Janet Avizo entering and leaving law firms,
Everything was developing in a bad direction. Michael finally seemed to recognize reality and no longer harbored illusions about that family.
In the room, a faint aroma wafted from the kitchen, and Eric's stomach immediately rumbled.
Getting up and walking over, he saw Nicole wearing Eric's white shirt, standing in front of the stove, wielding a spatula.
She was tall, and even a man's clothes could only barely cover her hips.
The shirt fluttered up and down with the movement of her arms, revealing her elastic buttocks intermittently.
They say a woman cooking is sensual, and Eric was now experiencing it firsthand.
He quietly walked over and hugged Nicole's waist from behind. She shrieked in surprise, and the pancake-like object in the spatula flew out.
"Hehe, stop messing around, I'm cooking!"
"You look so sensual, my dear. Just looking at you is enough to fill me up."
"Hahaha, I'm serious, stop it. It'll be ready soon. The day is still long; we have plenty of time."
"No, I like this scene. You do yours, I do mine. We don't interfere with each other."
He kissed her all over until she was trembling uncontrollably, then Eric suddenly retreated.
"Alright, you continue, my dear."
Hearing this, Nicole stared at him with wide eyes: "Eric, you really are a little rascal! Don't you dare leave! Hurry up and continue!"
Eric playfully shook the phone in his palm: "If you don't let me go out and work, you at least have to let me make a few calls. If you want it, hurry up."
After teasing Nicole, Eric called Fitz Heisenburg.
"Boss, what's up?"
"Fitz, about the server issue you mentioned last time, after thinking it over, I believe we must accelerate its progress. How many users can our current server cluster accommodate?"
"Ten million users, but only temporarily, because as users continuously post new updates, data storage will increase over time, and the pressure will be greater."
"The ten million users I mentioned are an estimate calculated based on each person posting three updates per day, not including comments. It should be enough to last about six months."
"Only ten million users? No, that's too few. That blade server you mentioned, install it quickly for me. I want that number to reach fifty million users."
"Uh, boss, isn't fifty million users a bit too exaggerated? Last year's report showed that about 50% of households in the United States had internet access, but households don't represent individuals. Deducting the elderly and children, I don't think we'll need that many temporarily."
Realizing that this was not yet the era of universal internet access, with only 50% in the United States, other countries were even further behind.
Eric asked: "Fitz, I plan to bring in a group of celebrities to promote Facebook, which will undoubtedly bring in huge traffic. How many do you think is appropriate?"
"Thirty million users, I think that should be enough for now. Even if it's not enough, we can always add more. Don't worry, boss, we have plenty of time."
"Good, do as you said, but be quick. Try to complete it before Facebook launches."
"Alright."
As soon as Eric finished the call, Nicole walked out carrying a soup bowl.
Seeing this, he also went to the kitchen to get food. In a short time, Nicole had actually cooked three dishes.
Although they were all relatively simple and looked quite bad, for a big celebrity, it was already pretty good.
Eric picked up a piece of preserved olive vegetable, put it in his mouth, chewed it crunchily, and swallowed.
Nicole looked at him nervously: "How is it? Does it taste good?"
"It's alright, at least it's cooked through. With some salad dressing, it should taste even better."
Nicole quickly got up to get it: "My dear, there's only ketchup. Do you still want it?"
"That's fine too. I'm generally not picky. Come and eat."
The two sat at the dining table, and Eric served Nicole some stew.
"Ugh! The potatoes aren't cooked through; they're still a bit raw inside. What should I do?"
"Then give them to me."
"Okay."
Nicole picked out the potatoes from her plate and placed them on Eric's plate.
Warm sunlight streamed in from the balcony, bathing the two of them.
"Eric, this feeling is so nice."
"What?"
"This feeling of home is so good, very warm and comfortable."
Smiling, Eric knew what this woman was thinking and reached out to pull her into his arms.