Chapter 83 Really Red

After class, students from neighboring classes and even other grades kept coming over after hearing the news. Song Ya's hand was sour, and he almost caused a riot in the cafeteria at noon, and it was only under the pressure of the vice principal that order was restored.

"It seems that I made the right choice. Writing a hundred platinum singles is not as famous as the singer in front of the stage..."

Song Ya, who confirmed that she was really popular, slipped directly into the squash hall in order to avoid the crowd after school.

Swinging the racket, smashing the squash ball into the wall again and again, only the boring swing and 'Boom! Boom! 'Voice.

After finally cleaning up for a while, "Hi, APLUS." The good white girl who teased me last time appeared again.

"Hi……"

Song Ya had no choice but to slap the ball to the corner, and turned to greet the girl. The girl had her hands behind her back. The sports attire of white shorts and T-shirt showed her good figure at a glance. Her tall chest fluctuated violently. Mostly because of nervousness.

"I'm in the badminton club over there." She pointed outside.

"cool."

Having experienced the incident with Dentist Harley, Song Ya knows that this kind of middle-class family that sends children to a good private family has some social energy in the local area. Besides, there is an old saying that rabbits don’t eat grass by the side of their nests. He still chooses to play dumb when the other party intends to do so. , this kind of girl is not so easy to get rid of.

"Do you have time tonight? Maybe we can go to a movie."

The girl opened the appointment generously, and was more active than last time. Song Ya felt that she was not only doing it on purpose, but was almost rushing forward.

"Uh...I have to practice singing tonight." He declined.

"What song to practice? New song?"

"All of them, old songs also need to be practiced."

"I can feel that body shake, And the heat between your legs..."

The girl casually sang two explicit lyrics, then lowered her head shyly and giggled, "Is this the one? Am I right?" Song Ya bit her lips lightly, "Or, you can also take me to visit your recording studio."

Wait, what's up with your faint bitch, hey! "Yeah, I posted this song..."

Before Song Ya finished speaking, "Bichi!" Several black girls appeared from behind the good girl, and the big sister who led the team gave her a push, "While everyone is not paying attention?"

"Hey! What are you doing? Bullying? I will sue the teacher!" The good girl warned her.

"Yeah, go and sue, Biyi, Chi..." A black girl behind began to display her racial talent.

The good girl looked at Song Ya and saw that he didn't mean to be a hero to save the beauty, "OK, OK, you just wait." She tossed her hair and left angrily.

"Hey, APLUS." The chubby big sister stretched out her fist towards Song Ya, "I'm in the twelfth grade, my name is Denise, she is..."

The eldest sister introduced the younger sisters to Song Ya in a very social way, "We have set up a fan club for you, and only our own people can participate. From now on, I will cover you in the school, and I promise that there will be no such bisexual fans just now." Chi came to harass you."

"Yeah, someone in Denise's family is on PN..." A little girl chimed in.

There are also female gangsters in this private school?

Song Ya reacted after bumping fists with her in wonder, no! PN? People? Isn't that an alliance with the rival gang that GD is killing blood in Nancheng? The other party rushes over to make friends without even knowing his own background. It seems that he is a fake social person.

Song Ya didn't show any signs of expression, and pretended to be happy to deal with a few words.

"Don't bother you anymore, just keep playing, remember, I'll cover you."

Denise was very amused by Song Ya, and she also had a lot of face in front of the little girls, so she said goodbye cheerfully.

"well!"

Song Ya fooled them away,

With a long sigh, "Can't you stay here? Do you want to transfer to a noble school next year? APLUS moves three times?"

"Was there a fight here just now?"

After a while, the teacher came. It was a physical education teacher who taught small balls. He was a middle-aged white man who liked to drape a sweater over his shoulders and tie his sleeves in a knot in front of his chest. I'm going to tell the teacher.

"It's nothing, they were joking." Song Ya replied.

"Humph."

The physical education teacher threw him a pamphlet, "There will be a youth squash competition in February, you can represent our school to participate."

"I play squash just to hide myself!" Song Ya complained secretly, looked down at the time, and returned the booklet to the teacher, "I may not be able to go."

"You have to go! I know you are doing well in school, but participating in the sports club means you have the obligation to fight for honor for the school, otherwise I can deduct your credits, and I don't care if you are a singer or not." The physical education teacher threatened severely.

"I really can't go."

"Hmph, you can't go without deducting credits?"

"Don't deduct my credits, teacher, I really won't go..."

"Is there anything important for you that day?"

"I'm going to the Grammys!"

"Grey...beautiful?"

"Yay! The Grammys!"

Well, the teacher is still reasonable, Song Ya kept the credits, he turned up his collar, shrank his neck like a thief, went to the parking lot to drive the F150 back to the A+ record.

In the control room, Delay was discussing the sampling plan with the hired musicians. The musicians brought a few girls and sat on the sofa together, holding wine glasses and chatting with each other. It seems that the wine cabinet in the control room has also been set up. Fortunately, under Song Ya's firm control, there will be no unpleasant smell of leaves here.

Al was pulled by Big A to do a radio show, and the two were bragging in the studio.

"Why does this place look more and more like Old Joe's music..."

Song Ya walked into the office mumbling, and Song Asheng was already waiting inside with an old Chinese man.

"Boss..." He pointed to his watch, indicating that Song Ya was late.

"Oh! I forgot about that."

Song Ya smacked his forehead, remembering that today he made an appointment with a tailor to come to measure his size. This old man was introduced by Song Asheng. It is said that he is a very powerful Ningbo Red Gang tailor who has been in the United States for decades.

"The boss wants to wear this dress to attend the Grammys, don't care how much it costs, just make it better, you know?"

Song Asheng was nagging at the side, but the old man just agreed.

Song Ya stood up straight and asked him to measure various parts of his body, holding a fabric sample in his hand, just choose the safest dark color.

Grammys are not as dressy as Oscars, and singers are generally at the forefront of trends. Columbia Records’ suggestion for the choice of dress at the award ceremony is that fashion is more than formal. Song Ya plans to change her usual dress to a more expensive version. Well, you don't have to go on stage anyway. But the following celebration receptions are different. Formal attire is generally required. The more formal the better, a dress is fine, and a tuxedo is even better.

Forget about the tuxedo, according to Song Ya's aesthetics, it is really unacceptable, the dress is better.

Mariah Carey received five nominations and a chance to perform live. If there is no accident, the best new singer is safe. Other awards are said to depend on luck. Columbia Records' public relations ability is actually more important.

"The Grammy Awards will be presented on February 20th. You have to deliver the goods by at least the 15th." Song Ya sent the tailor and Song Asheng out, and urged.

"Don't worry, don't worry."

The two leave.

The girls brought by the musicians should have seen her. One of them made an excuse to go to the bathroom, and when she went out, she bumped into Song Ya's arms who were about to go back to the office.

"Sorry, are you okay...Wow, are you APLUS? I..."

The other party pretended to be quite similar, but Song Ya was already a veteran, "It's all right." Before the other party finished speaking, he politely moved aside, strode back to the office, and closed the door.

Sweeping the manager's business card on the table into the drawer, and throwing all the singer's resumes into the shredder, "We're efficient, tsk tsk..." He complacently turned on the record player and practiced singing for the late-night show .