with camera flashes and clamouring entertainment reporters. To be honest, as happy as I was, I wasn’t really prepared for so much attention. It happened way too fast. All that I was sure of was that I should smile, but I was so tense that I probably acted a little like a robot. While I was still answering reporters’ questions, I was escorted from the main lobby to the second-floor meeting room of the hotel. While I was waiting for the introduction meeting to begin, I excused myself to the hallway and made a quick call home. As soon as someone picked up, I screamed, “Aaaaaaah, I made it! I WON!”
“Hey, you’re hurting my ear! What? You serious? You won as in—” my dad questioned.
“First place, Dad. Can you believe it?!”
“Yay! He won, he won!” He was yelling the good news to my mom. I could hear both of them clapping together. After letting them calm down a little I continued, “Please go dress up. I’ll come pick you guys up for dinner in two hours, after our meeting is done here. They want to meet you in person. I have to hurry back. I just snuck out to give you the news. See you in a bit.”
Later that evening, the company took my family to a high-end Japanese restaurant nearby Radisson Hotel to celebrate in a private dining room. Everyone was treating me like a king. During dinner Sam promised me just about anything you can imagine: personal assistant, private vehicle, apartment in downtown Taipei, an expense allowance, access to the top recording studios, VIP access to the major clubs, etc. I was overwhelmed by everything. Just listening to what lay before me, I was starting to feel like a celebrity already.
The next day I woke up to see my face plastered over the Canadian Chinese newspapers, and the Chinese TV stations were running the interviews that had taken place at the hotel. I could barely contain myself. I was absolutely bursting with excitement—my heart was racing all the time—but in a good way. I was a ball of nerves one minute and cockily self-assured the next. I spent the next couple of days calling all my relatives and friends to tell them that I had finally made it.
Page by page, I combed through the preliminary artist contract to make sure that this was not some kind of hoax. It wasn’t. This was really happening. Gazing up in the sky I would see airplanes pass and envision myself sitting in executive class—or maybe even on a private jet—on one adventure after the next. New cities, new venues, new fans, and a new life. My head was so far into the clouds, I even practised scribbling my signature hundreds of times in preparation for all the upcoming signing events. It was such an amazing feeling, I have to say. For years, countless people in my life had pointed their finger squarely at my forehead and chided me for having set my sights on such an ephemeral goal. Chinese kids are supposed to become accountants or go to medical school or something. This contract would shut all their mouths. I would finally be vindicated.
“Those who exalt themselves will be humbled.” (Matt. 23:12)
While I was walking by an urban accessory store in Richmond Centre, the passport cases caught my attention. There were over 50 different designs. I combed through them to find the one that would suit my new image. Strawberries … ummm … no. Hello Kitty … no. Handguns … too violent. After I picked around for five minutes, one of the cases caught my eye. What’s this one? This is pretty cool. It was decorated with a pattern of steel-grey airplanes and had a glossy black lining. There was a bold silver airplane icon stamped in the bottom right-hand corner. That’s the one, I thought. It has the right look.
Smiling joyfully, I strutted up to the cashier to pay. In a year, I figured, she’ll know me by name, and I’ll be so famous, someone will be picking out my accessories for me. As she dropped the change into my hand, my cellphone rang. Hmmm, I don’t recognize that number. Better pick up.
“Hello, who’s this?” I asked.
“Hey, uh … it’s me, Boz. I’m calling from Taiwan,” a familiar female voice replied.
“Oh! Hi, Linda! I’ve been waiting for your call. How are you?”
“I’m doing okay. Thank you. And you?”
“Oh yeah. I’m doing great—practising non-stop. I’m totally ready to start recording. As a matter of fact, I’m buying a passport case as we speak. I can be in Taipei on a day’s notice as soon as you give the green light!”
“Uh … it’s like this … The reason I called today is to update you with the progress of your contract. There’s so much going on. Listen, this is nothing against you personally. It’s just the business side of things, you know. I hate to tell you this, but our deal got turned down. Warner Music has signed off our project’s budget to a new hip-hop group made up of the former LA Boyz. It’s a decision made by upper management. We’re terribly sorry for what this means for you. Your written agreement with the company will be terminated automatically after one year. So basically you’ll be free to sign with other companies after that. Son, you’re talented. There are many other ways—” she said in a deep tone.
“What? This is a joke, right? I … I don’t understand. This is impossible! I won the competition fair and square, and they pumped it up in the media. You were there. You saw it. They can’t do this to me, can they?” I accidentally dropped my shopping bag.
“Unfortunately, this is not a matter for negotiation. It’s a decision that has already been made. No one was going to tell you all this. They were just going to let you flounder in the dark until your agreement expired. I felt sorry for you, so I decided to call and fill you in. The deal is over. I’m sorry. It was good meeting you in Canada. I wish you all the best. Listen, I have to go. Take care.” She hung up before I could ask another question.
No way. She must be confused about something. I’m sure that this is just a misunderstanding. I had a hard time believing what I had heard. Fumbling through my wallet, I found Sam’s business card. I dialed his number in haste. I was so agitated that I dropped my phone twice before I successfully made the call. Answering machine? Got to be kidding me! I dialed again. Same? All right, I’ve had enough! This joke has gotta stop right now! Standing in the middle of the mall, I felt tears start to well up in my eyes.
I tried all the numbers on his business card: personal mobile phone, Taipei head office, Hong Kong head office. I couldn’t reach him. Different receptionists just kept sending me to his voicemail. I must have left a dozen messages. Sitting in front of my phone, I waited and waited. The phone was silent.
_______
Months went by. Every morning I woke up in total misery. I would sit still and stare at the preliminary contract. I simply could not face reality. Then Warner Music Taiwan announced the debut of a new hip-hop group, Machi, to all the major media outlets in Asia. This was the group that Linda had told me about. Their faces were plastered all over the front page of the Chinese newspaper my dad brought home. I immediately tore it into pieces. Whenever their music came on the radio, I’d turn it off right away. Every time someone picked one of their songs at a karaoke bar, I’d storm off to have a smoke to calm myself down. No matter where I went, they seemed to be following me. My dreams were shattered—and reshattered. Jealousy, anger, and feelings of betrayal gradually overwhelmed me. I lost to bands from LA, not once but twice. First, seeing a boy band and now a hip-hop group taking my rightful place was totally infuriating. To rub salt in my wounds, I had to constantly see them on all the Asian music channels.
Just in case that wasn’t enough grief to bear, all kinds of people kept calling me to ask about my music career news. They’d want to know when my album was coming out and where I would be touring and whether they could get backstage passes and this, and that, and anything-imaginable-that-would-result-in-further-humiliation. I had no idea how to answer. Why would the record label do that to me? Why would they launch me into the media stratosphere only to
