management. For them, artists from reality shows were just cash cows to be squeezed dry, and they were treated horribly. The huge grassroots support my brother had at his debut was never properly cultivated, leaving his real fans to be drowned out by paid haters and trolls.
But things were different now.
I hired a professional team to build his official fan club, reaching out to all the people who had briefly liked him for his looks. In just one month, his follower count skyrocketed from seven million to over twenty million.
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But that wasn’t enough.
I also signed other artists who had been through the same reality–show–to–agency–exploitation pipeline, many from disbanded pop groups. For each of them, we developed a complete, tailored management and branding strategy.
It took about six months for everything to be running smoothly. My team was becoming a force to be reckoned with.
One day, I was attending a taping of a group variety show with my artists. I was out front, dressed to the nines and giving an interv- iew, when a staffer rushed up to me, telling me that one of my artists had gotten into a fight with an artist from another company backstage.
The staffer looked panicked. “You should go check on it, quickly!”
I calmly adjusted my jacket. “Is the other guy okay?”
