His phone, which he’d finally turned back on, sat on the table in front of him. The notifications had slowed down somewhat, but they hadn’t stopped. He’d created a new email address just for professional inquiries, and already it had over three hundred messages: talent agencies, record labels, event planners, universities wanting him to speak, companies wanting him to endorse their saxophones or music software, even a few movie producers asking about the rights to his life story.
His life story. He was twenty-four years old, and people wanted to make movies about his life. The meeting he was about to have was with three people: James Woo, the concert promoter who’d been calling him daily; Angela Price, a talent agent from one of the biggest agencies in the country; and surprisingly, Dr. Martinez, the dean from the Riverside Conservatory of Music, his former school.
They arrived within minutes of each other, creating an awkward moment where they all tried to figure out the seating arrangements. James pulled out Mateo’s chair like they were at a fancy dinner. Angela immediately started organizing business cards and papers. Dr. Martinez, an older woman with kind eyes and silver hair, simply reached across the table and squeezed Mateo’s hand. “It’s good to see you again, Mateo,” she said, “though I wish it had been under different circumstances.”
“You mean circumstances where I wasn’t humiliated on camera for millions of people to see?” Mateo tried to make it sound like a joke, but the bitterness came through anyway. “I mean circumstances where you’d never left us in the first place,” Dr. Martinez said gently. “But we’ll get to that.” James jumped in first, his energy filling the small coffee shop. “Mateo, I’ve put together a proposal for the next six months: three major concert hall performances, starting with the Riverside Symphony Hall next month; guest appearances on two morning shows and one late-night show; a profile in Time magazine—they’ve already reached out; and a potential recording contract with Commonwealth Classical, pending your live performances.”
He slid a folder across the table. Mateo opened it to find a detailed schedule—dates and venues and dollar amounts that made his head spin. The money alone was more than he’d make in three years at the Grand View estate. “This is a lot,” Mateo said quietly. “It’s the opportunity of a lifetime,” James said. “But we need to move fast. Right now, you’re the story everyone wants to cover. In six months, they’ll have moved on to something else. We have to build your career while the attention is there.”
Angela cleared her throat. “I agree that timing is important, but I think we should be strategic about this. Mateo, you’re not just a viral video. You’re a legitimate talent. That means we can build something sustainable, not just chase quick attention.” She pulled out her own folder. “I’ve worked with several classical musicians who’ve crossed over into mainstream recognition. The key is balancing the commercial opportunities with maintaining artistic credibility.”
“And that’s where I come in,” Dr. Martinez said. She didn’t have any folders or flashy presentations. She just looked at Mateo with those kind, knowing eyes. “Mateo, I’ve been authorized by the conservatory’s board to make you an offer. We want you back: full scholarship covering not just tuition, but living expenses as well. You’d be able to finish your degree properly this time, without financial stress.”