Leon and Phil talked for two hours straight, hitting it off like long-lost brothers as they cooked up a series of backroom deals.
Or to be more precise, a series of shady quid pro quo arrangements that left Leon's benefactor, the surprisingly naive gangster T-Ray, completely in the dark.
Just as Leon walked out of Phil's office, he got a call from T-Ray.
The open-air autograph signing for Take Me to Church was set for 2:00 PM tomorrow at Betsy Head Park.
The corners of Leon's mouth curled up. The opportunity he had been waiting for was finally here.
---
Early the next morning, Leon arrived at T-Ray's office.
Makeup artists and photographers had been waiting for a while. T-Ray had even thoughtfully assigned him a curvy Black girl as an assistant.
The whole setup wasn't far off from what a real A-list artist would get.
"Try to be enthusiastic with the fans at the signing... I pulled a lot of strings for this event. A lot of entertainment media will be there."
"I've already sent the demo to Funkmaster Flex at Hot 97. He's very happy with the final cut."
"Maybe soon you'll be on his show for an interview."
Leaning against the wall and puffing on a cigar, T-Ray watched Leon get his makeup done.
Leon thought T-Ray was dreaming a bit too big. For a rookie who just debuted, a one-on-one interview on Hot 97 was a pipe dream.
That station was the launching pad for many superstars' careers.
Lady Gaga, Jay-Z, P. Diddy—they all went on that show after their debut albums blew up.
However, Lady Gaga's debut album The Fame sold over 160,000 copies in its first week.
Between cassettes, CDs, and vinyl, her total sales had now broken the astonishing 10 million mark.
Awkwardly, the first print run for Leon's Take Me to Church was only 7,000 copies. The resources were simply not in the same league; there was no comparison.
"I have a strong feeling you're gonna blow up overnight." T-Ray's eyes suddenly turned menacing. "By the way, white boy, are you really not planning to sign with me? George is still very unhappy about that."
Leon smelled the distinct scent of a threat. Just as he expected, given the gang's way of doing things, they weren't going to let the contract issue slide easily.
He spread his hands. "Let's wait until the record officially drops to talk about that."
Seeing Leon dodging the question again, T-Ray didn't get angry. He just gave a sinister smile. "No worries. It's just a matter of time."
"Nobody in Brownsville dares to play games with me."
---
When they arrived at Betsy Head Park, Leon looked out from the car window and was stunned by the scene.
"Fk... why are there so many people?"
The small park lawn was packed with hundreds of people, holding up signs with Leon's graffiti image, anxiously waiting for their idol to appear.
Even T-Ray was surprised. "I did hire a crowd to hype it up so it wouldn't be awkward, but this... there are way too many people here."
Hiring a "water army" (paid fake fans) was standard practice for entertainment companies to build hype for their artists.
It's not hard to understand. When you see fans screaming for a star at the airport at 3:00 AM, use your brain—who has that much free time?
Aside from the homeless, who can chase stars all day without working?
It's all smoke and mirrors created by the companies to give the illusion that their artist is red-hot.
But the number of fans at Betsy Head Park today completely exceeded T-Ray's imagination.
He pulled out his phone and opened YouTube, muttering to himself, "I knew it..."
Curious, Leon leaned over to take a look. The video Brownsville Street Jesus had already hit a terrifying 500,000 views.
In an era where "internet influencers" weren't taken seriously yet, Leon was bona fide top-tier viral traffic. A walking half-million views.
When Leon finally stepped onto the park lawn to wave at the fans, the scene spiraled out of control!
Not only were there local fans from Brownsville, but a shocking number came from nearby East New York and Canarsie. Some even heard the news and came all the way from Queens just to see Street Jesus in the flesh.
It was just that... the fans looked a little eccentric.
There were men dressed like women, women dressed like men.
And some unique individuals combining features of both who dressed like nothing human at all.
Just as Leon and Phil had predicted, the song's audience was the downtrodden, the frustrated, and the marginalized.
Judging by the scene, a lot of the LGBTQ+ community had shown up. With the Democratic Party's policies becoming more open, "rainbow organizations" were popping up all over the country, launching a massive equal rights movement.
"Leon! Leon! Leon!"
"Street Jesus!"
The fans' frantic reaction meant it took a lot of effort for the Bloods' security team to get Leon to his seat.
He grabbed the microphone like a lifeline and shouted to the fans, "Everyone, please calm down... First off, thank you so much for your support! Your passion is hotter than the Brownsville sun today!"
Leon barely got two sentences out before the fans erupted in another tsunami of cheers.
The signing session that followed went relatively smoothly. The single CD was priced at $3.00, and the cassette tape was $1.75.
Sales were incredibly hot. Many fans bought five copies or more at once. The mountain of CDs in front of Leon was disappearing fast.
"Fk!"
This level of sales caught T-Ray off guard. Standing next to Leon, he gritted his teeth in anxiety.
The first print run of 2,000 CDs and 5,000 cassettes was clearly too conservative. At this rate, there wouldn't be many CDs left by the time the event ended.
He kicked himself for misjudging the market and silently vowed that the second print run would focus on CDs.
Trying to save costs by pushing cassettes—a format the times had left behind—was a serious mistake!
Leon signed autographs furiously, his wrist aching, but he didn't care.
He was signing his name, but what he was getting back was cold, hard cash!
The only annoying part was dealing with some of the fans' unreasonable requests.
A rebellious girl with a face full of piercings walked up to Leon and immediately lifted her shirt.
No need to guess—she was definitely a supporter of the "Free the Nipple" movement.
She pointed excitedly at her chest. "Mr. Leon, please sign right here!"
"No problem... happy to oblige."
Leon solemnly cupped the "headlights" and signed his name with grave seriousness, satisfying the fan's willful request.
He thought that was as weird as it would get, but that was just the appetizer.
The fans that followed got progressively stranger. A bald Black man built like a professional bodybuilder, wearing bright red lipstick and black pantyhose, stood in front of Leon.
Ignoring the stares of the crowd, he pulled down his pants and asked in a shy, girlish voice, "Can I ask you to sign right here?"
"Fk off!"
"Damn it, T-Ray! Where is security?!"
"Throw this bastard out of here!"