Chapter 322 - Kelly

Roy understood what she meant. To be able to make money, the person they chose needed to be a free agent so they could sign with a company to earn money for the company without being taken advantage of by other companies.

For Laila, the quality of the voice wasn't crucial. A great song could turn an up-and-coming singer into a star. Roy knew this well; his vocal skills were average, and he only had a basic understanding of singing. Yet, with just one song, "Baby," he had become more famous than many singers who had struggled for years.

That was the charm of a great song and an opportunity. Laila did not doubt that when the new song was released, it would elevate another artist into stardom.

"I'll think about it," Roy said, rubbing his chin. It wasn't that he couldn't come up with a candidate; rather, he knew too many people, making it difficult to choose. The bars and clubs he frequented with friends were always filled with singers, but not all of them were worth developing. He needed to consider other factors like personality, character, and most importantly, whether they were free agents and not already signed with another company.

He suddenly thought of someone. "Once, I was at a bar with some friends, and there was a cocktail waitress there who sang well. I remember people in the bar urging her to sing more songs. After talking to her for a bit, I found out that she loved to sing, but her family was too poor to support her pursuit."

Laila was interested. She enjoyed lifting people from the bottom, not just for the satisfaction but also because it was cost-effective. Well, she had to admit that the latter was the primary reason she found it intriguing.

"What's her name? Where can we find her?"

"Her name is Kelly. I don't know her full name, but the bar where she works is in New York."

"Good. Let's go find her."

"Now?" Roy was surprised. "Shouldn't you write the song first? You're looking for people before you even have the song ready. Isn't that putting the cart before the horse?"

"It's okay, it's just one song, won't take much time," Laila replied. She went into the dressing room and quickly changed into casual attire. The clothes were simple and cheap-looking, and she tied her long hair into a ponytail, letting it hang loosely behind her. She looked like a college student rather than the Hollywood director often seen in the media.

Roy had seen her dressed like this before when she went on road trips. She preferred simplicity when dressing casually, but it was still strange to see her this way. It was like her soul had suddenly switched to another body when she changed her clothes.

If Laila knew he had such thoughts, she would probably be surprised. He guessed her feelings fairly accurately. After putting on these simple clothes, she felt like her past self had come back to life as if she had shed a heavy burden in her every movement.

If it weren't for her love of movies and Hollywood, she might have spent her time traveling to various places, doing things she couldn't do in her previous life.

"Aren't you going to prepare?" Laila asked, looking at Roy, who was still staring at her.

"Prepare? Oh, no need," he said, taking a duckbill cap from the back pocket of his jeans and putting it on his head. He also put on the sunglasses hanging from his chest pocket. "I have everything I need with me."

"Not bad," Laila said, smiling as she sized him up. "It seems that you do look like a star."

Roy rolled his eyes at her playfully, knowing she was making fun of him for still needing to dress up.

"In your eyes, am I forever the street thug who got dragged into the police station, huh? Let me tell you, even with just this face, I've probably charmed countless people!"

"I never saw you as a street thug," Laila said, pushing open the door and leaving the room. "Besides, a real thug would never catch my attention, and I wouldn't waste resources trying to reform them. Simply put, if you don't possess qualities that interest me, even if the police beat you to death in front of me, I wouldn't bat an eye."

Roy stared at her back as she disappeared through the door, feeling puzzled. "Thug? What kind of image do you have of me in your mind?"

Half an hour later, led by Roy, the two of them arrived and entered a bar called "End of the Century."

This bar was relatively upscale and didn't have blaring music like some other bars. Instead, it played soothing and relaxing songs. Since it was daytime, the bar wasn't very crowded, and a few waitstaff dressed casually were chatting with the bartender at the bar counter.

"Why did you come here?" Laila didn't know that Roy liked this kind of place. In her impression, he preferred places with DJs and loud music, where voluptuous girls danced.

"I just came out with some friends," Roy replied, his voice somewhat unnatural under her gaze. He pretended to look around as if searching for someone. "You wait here; I'll go over and ask."

Laila could tell he was avoiding her question, but she could also guess why. He was probably hanging out with some of his friends and wanted to impress some girls.

While waiting, she glanced at the wall, where many photos were displayed. There were pictures of celebrities as well as what appeared to be snapshots of customers. After a closer look, she found a familiar face in one of the photos.

"Kelly... Kelly..." she murmured to herself. "Could it be her?"

Just then, Roy returned. "I found her, but she's not working right now. I told her it was urgent, and she agreed to come as soon as she could."

Laila looked at him strangely. "You didn't ask her what we needed her for?"

Roy grinned. "With my charm, do you think anyone would be afraid of being deceived by me? I just told her there's a huge opportunity in front of her, and whether she can seize it depends on her luck. If she chooses not to come, I can only say it's a pity because she chose her path, right?"

"Don't be like this, Roy," Laila said, shaking her head. "You're saying such reasonable things; it's making me uncomfortable. Change back to your usual self."

Roy sighed in frustration. "What image do you have of me in your mind?"