The Presentation

The Sony boardroom commanded sweeping views of Manhattan, its floor-to-ceiling windows reflecting the morning light across faces of industry power brokers who would shape the next decade of music. In my original timeline, this presentation had launched careers. Today, it would lay the foundation for an empire.

I arrived an hour early, methodically setting up equipment that straddled two eras of music production. The modified systems we'd developed contained innovations that wouldn't naturally emerge for years, each advancement carefully calibrated to push boundaries while maintaining plausibility. Mitchell hovered nearby, his nervous energy reflecting the stakes of this moment.

"Full executive board today," he murmured, adjusting his tie. "Plus representatives from international divisions. No pressure, but this could redefine Sony's entire production strategy."

I nodded, remembering how this presentation had originally unfolded. "Sometimes revolution comes disguised as evolution. They're about to hear the future of music."

The room filled gradually with executives in expensive suits, their casual conversations masking careful observation. I recognized faces that would become industry legends, careers that would rise and fall over the next three decades. In my previous life, I'd sat on boards with some of them. Today, I was just a teenager from the Bronx with surprisingly sophisticated ideas about music production.

Mom sat quietly in the corner, her presence both support and strategy. Her natural business acumen was already emerging, noting details and dynamics that would prove valuable in future negotiations. In our original timeline, she'd missed this meeting, working a hospital shift. Another small change reshaping our future.

"Let's begin with what we've achieved in the new studio facility," I started, launching the first demonstration track. The sound filled the room, showcasing production techniques that walked the line between innovation and impossibility. Neural processing algorithms, disguised as conventional digital enhancement, created textures that wouldn't exist naturally for years.

The executives leaned forward unconsciously, their trained ears recognizing something revolutionary even if they couldn't identify exactly what. I watched their reactions, calculating each revelation with precision.

"The harmonic integration is unprecedented," Sony's head of production noted, studying the waveform displays. "These frequency relationships shouldn't be possible with current technology."

"We're approaching sound design from a different perspective," I explained, sharing carefully measured insights. "Traditional production treats audio as waves to be manipulated. We're developing systems that interact with music on a fundamental level."

The next demonstration showcased Beyoncé's recent session recordings. Her artistry, enhanced by our advanced technology, created something beyond current industry capabilities. The neural interface elements, hidden beneath layers of conventional processing, captured nuances that wouldn't be achievable for almost a decade.

"This isn't just new production techniques," Mitchell added, his excitement barely contained. "This is a completely new approach to music creation. And it's happening exclusively in our system."

I guided them through each innovation, every advancement carefully timed and measured. The quantum harmonics, simplified for current technology. The neural processing, disguised as digital algorithms. Each revelation calculated to push boundaries while maintaining plausibility.

The international executives whispered among themselves in various languages, recognizing potential they couldn't quite articulate. In my original timeline, this presentation had secured modest funding for studio expansion. Today, we were laying groundwork for global transformation.

"The technical infrastructure required for these developments," Sony's chief engineer began, "it's beyond anything currently in use. How did you conceptualize these systems?"

"By looking beyond current limitations," I replied, sharing truth wrapped in careful ambiguity. "Every technological breakthrough starts as imagination. We're just turning those possibilities into reality sooner than expected."

Mom caught my eye from her corner, her subtle nod acknowledging the delicate balance we were maintaining. In her hands, she held the contracts we'd prepared – documents that would protect our innovations while facilitating necessary partnerships.

The presentation concluded with a technology roadmap, each development carefully plotted to suggest natural evolution rather than future certainty. I outlined infrastructure requirements, research directions, and market applications that would shape the next decade of music production.

"This isn't just about creating hit records," I concluded, watching futures realign in this sleek boardroom. "This is about revolutionizing how music is created, produced, and experienced. The question isn't whether this transformation will happen – it's who will lead it."

The room fell silent as the final demonstrations faded. In my original timeline, this moment had launched a modest studio partnership. Today, it would birth an empire. The future was shifting again, reshaping itself around decisions made in this fortieth-floor boardroom.

Time to change music history. Again. But this time, with perfect precision from the very beginning.