CHAPTER 14-The Counteroffer
Dayo reread the document again to be sure he was seeing correctly. He had been expecting an exaggerated contract, but what lay before him gave him a strange smile. On a normal day, a label would not offer an artist less than a five-year contract, and the penalty fee for leaving would be outrageous—designed to make any artist think twice before moving to another label.
Seeing this contract, Dayo knew he had found a good one. He had scouted different labels before deciding on this one because the manager had an eye for talent and knew how to keep it, or better yet, give enough leeway so that both parties would have as little conflict as possible.
His research showed that the label had no more than four artists, each with a B– rating or higher, meaning the manager valued talent over sheer numbers. Although the label was new, most of its artists were already doing well, and with the right resources and songs, they would make waves. Another factor in his decision was that the label took the artist's behavior into account—something rare in the industry.
Normally, as long as an artist could sing and make money, a label would overlook any misconduct. Scandals were handled by giving the artist a break while PR teams cleaned things up, especially with big record labels that could control the media. Dayo didn't completely disapprove of this, but he had his own bottom line—if he ran a label, he would prefer artists who caused fewer problems. Any artist with bad character would have to leave. That was non-negotiable.
Being a Black American, his parents had strictly raised him to be disciplined and respectful. As for contracts, he believed in fairness but also in protecting the fruits of one's labor. If he provided an artist with the platform, resources, and music, he wouldn't let someone else reap the rewards. However, if an artist was reasonable and approached him before making a move, he would be willing to give them leeway—after all, the industry was a small place.
"Mrs. Valery, you surprise me with this contract," Dayo said, looking up into her eyes.
"I hope it's in a good way?" Valery smirked, intrigued to hear his reply. She knew that, although her label was small, this was one of the best deals a rookie could get in the industry.
"Yes, in a good way," Dayo replied, "but I have a counteroffer."
He pulled out a document and handed it to Valery.
Her expression shifted from curiosity to slight disbelief. She had just given him one of the best contracts he would likely receive at this early stage, yet here he was, saying he had a counteroffer. A flicker of irritation passed through her, but she smirked and took the document anyway.
After reading it, her emotions were mixed. She had expected something ridiculous, but instead, Dayo's proposal laid out the flaws of her label, its strengths, and how to fix them. He also proposed becoming partners.
"You really are full of surprises, Dayo," she said, gazing at him.
Smiling, Dayo raised his hand. "Well, what can I say, Mrs. Valery? I'm a miracle myself. So, what do you say?"
Valery looked back at the document. It stated that he wanted 85% of her label, that he would arrange songs for new artists, and that they would sign new contracts. He had also listed ten of his written songs, the quality of which shocked her. Still, she had to play her cards right.
"As much as the contract and options you've given are nice, I can't help but doubt that you have the ability to deliver songs and produce them—especially the producing part. I can understand writing songs, but producing is an entirely different world," she said.
Dayo smirked, as if expecting this. "Okay, how about a bet?"
"What's the bet?" Valery asked curiously.
"I'll stake 30% of my shares—if you agree to sell part of your label—and you'll stake 5%. If I can self-produce a song that sounds better than anything your producers have made, I win."
He paused briefly, then asked, "So, what do you say, Mrs. Valery?"
Valery thought about it. Dayo might be a genius artist, but music production takes years—decades—to master. No matter how talented he was, he couldn't beat her producers. After all, her label offered production services for independent artists, and it was one of her main sources of income. Independent artists chose her label not only for the price but also for the quality. In the low-end production market, they were ranked among the top five. She doubted she would lose.
She smiled to herself, thinking Dayo was arrogant for assuming his talent as an artist meant he could compete with professional producers. "Alright, I agree. But first, let's sign the agreement for the record deal."
Her main reason for signing with Dayo was that her label lacked the financial strength to push her artists further. It had been running for less than three years, yet had grown remarkably. Many investors had approached her, but she refused them—they were either too greedy or brought nothing of value. Dayo, however, already had songs with potential.
"I have a question that keeps bothering me," Valary said.
"Oh, please, do ask."