Zenith of Desire: The Hollywood Incubus

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Michael Jackson owned something Marvin wanted.

Not his records. The songs.

In truth, Marvin had played into Michael’s emotional vulnerabilities to get closer to the superstar because he coveted the billion-dollar music copyrights that Michael Jackson currently owned.

This superstar standing before him wasn’t just a singer; he was the most ruthless, brilliant copyright collector in modern music history.

To put the scale of his power into an industry joke: Sir Paul McCartney and the surviving members of The Beatles literally had to pay heavy, legally mandated royalties directly to Michael Jackson just to perform their own songs on television.

Marvin had known about the ATV catalog long before he’d ever met Michael. In 1985, Michael had spent $47.5 million buying ATV Music Publishing, and with it came the Beatles’ publishing rights.

It had been one of the smartest purchases in the history of the music business.

This catalog exclusively included the holy grail of music: the underlying song copyrights of the entire Beatles catalog.

Michael hadn’t stopped there.

In 1995, ATV was merged with Sony’s publishing operation, creating Sony/ATV Music Publishing. Michael and Sony became equal partners, and the catalog continued to grow.

Together, as equal partners, they owned the publishing copyright shares to the foundational works of modern music, including the catalogs of Elvis Presley, Stevie Wonder, The Beatles, Marvin Gaye, The Rolling Stones, Mariah Carey, Eminem and thousands of others. In total, they controlled more than 400,000 lucrative songs, a monopoly easily worth well over a billion dollars in pure, compounding revenue.

The money attached to those copyrights was enormous, and it kept growing and coming in as long as people kept listening to the songs.

Marvin understood why Michael had bought them. He also understood why he wanted them.

The timing was the problem. He couldn’t make his move yet. Not for another two and a half years.

2002.

That was when the cracks would start showing.

Michael spent money on a scale few people could sustain. Lawyers were expensive. Bad financial advice was even more expensive.

At that precise point, Michael Jackson would face a crippling cash flow crisis, driven by his astronomical spending habits, massive legal retainers, and several failed, reckless investments advised by terrible financial managers.

During this upcoming crisis period, the corporate monster of Sony/ATV would continue to acquire other massive music libraries to expand their monopoly. Since Jackson was a 50% equity partner in the holding company, he was legally, contractually obligated to personally invest tens of millions of dollars in cash to match Sony’s acquisitions, just to maintain his 50% share and prevent his ownership from being diluted. This brutal corporate clause would add devastating pressure to his already bleeding financial burden.

That was going to hurt.

Eventually, Michael would need cash badly enough that Invincible would become part of the problem.

He would want the album out. Sony wouldn’t.

The executives at Sony and Columbia Music, which managed Jackson’s record distribution, would resist the album’s release. They felt the album wasn’t creatively ready and the budget was bloated. Michael, however, desperate for the advance money, would stubbornly insist on releasing it. Sony would begrudgingly agree to press the CDs, but as an act of corporate revenge, they would provide zero enthusiasm or marketing budget for promoting it on radio or MTV.

This deliberate sabotage would lead to a highly publicized, bitter falling out between Michael Jackson and the Sony executives. Jackson would accuse Sony leadership of deliberately sabotaging his final album release specifically because they wanted him to default on his massive bank loans, allowing them to legally seize his 50% share of the catalog copyrights as collateral.

And they were correct. If the album didn’t perform well, he wouldn’t be able to repay his nine-figure loans, and Sony or Columbia would seize his billion-dollar song copyrights.

This upcoming corporate civil war was the precise opportunity Marvin was patiently waiting for in the dark.

Not today. Not tomorrow.

When the fight over the catalog became public and Michael needed someone with enough money to change the balance of power, Marvin intended to be there.

He didn’t care yet whether that meant negotiating with Sony, Columbia or Michael himself.

He needed Michael to trust him first. That was why this mattered.

Every conversation. Every favor. Every appearance of concern.

It all built toward the same thing. Marvin wasn’t planning to take advantage of Michael tomorrow.

He was preparing to be the person Michael remembered when tomorrow finally became impossible.

He wanted Michael to see him as a savior when the wolves circled.

And the magic made the preparation easier.

It was subtle. Nothing Michael would consciously notice. A little more trust here. A little more comfort there. Nothing dramatic enough to raise suspicion.

But Marvin knew better than most that small things became powerful when you gave them enough time.

Three years was plenty of time. For now, though, there was nothing left to do.

The passive power of his influence, bit by bit, would compound and become an inescapable force in three years, becoming his most decisive negotiating tool in the boardroom.

As for the immediate influence, Marvin had already started to wield it in this very room.

Three years. By then, his corporate power, his media influence, and his mana would have grown exponentially stronger, allowing him to make a devastating move on the chessboard.

After another half an hour of easy conversation about the session, microphone placement and the new studio set up, Michael glanced at his watch.

The diamonds on Michael’s watch caught the studio lights as he glanced once more toward Marvin.

”Your voice is amazing,” he said. ”And that thing you do with the harmonies... I’ve never heard anybody use his voice quite like that and your vocal and ventriloquism skills are truly incredible,”

Marvin smiled. ”Thank you.”

Michael touched the brim of his fedora. ”I want to try some of those ideas when I get home. ”I’ll practice those micro-pitching techniques in my home studio when I get back.”

”At Neverland?”

”Yes.”

Michael’s smile widened. ”I have a little studio there. I can spend hours experimenting when I get an idea.”

Marvin nodded. ”I’d like to hear what you come up with.”

Michael laughed softly. ”Maybe you’ll hear it before Munich.”

”Maybe.”

”I hope so. I’ll definitely surprise the fans on stage if I figured it out.”

Marvin kept his smile in place.

Inside, he almost laughed.

’Sorry, Michael. You could spend the next hundred years locked inside a vocal booth and you still wouldn’t reproduce it.’

There was no microphone trick behind what Marvin did. No clever pitch correction. No secret piece of equipment.

It was magic. Demonic Magic.

Michael looked toward the clock. ”I should let you get back to work.”

”Probably.”

Michael smiled. ”Thank you again.”

”For the invitation?”

”For everything.”

He turned toward Max. ”Thank you for letting me interrupt your session.”

Max laughed. ”You didn’t exactly give us much choice.”

Michael grinned. ”I’ll make it up to you.”

”You can send us a record.”

”I might.”

He said goodbye to the others and followed his bodyguard toward the door.

Marvin walked with him.

At the doorway, Michael stopped and offered his hand one last time. ”I’ll see you in Munich.”

”You will.”

Michael shook his hand. ”Good.”

They parted.

Michael had almost reached the elevators when he stopped.

He turned around. ”Oh!”

Marvin looked up.

Michael pointed at him. ”Coat.”

Marvin stared at him. ”A coat?”

”A warm one.”

”It’s Germany, Michael. I figured.”

Michael laughed. ”No, really. A warm coat. Don’t trust the California weather.”

”I won’t.”

”Good.” Michael gave him a final wave and disappeared around the corner with his bodyguard.

Marvin stood there for a moment.

Then he closed the studio door.

The room was quiet. Too quiet.

He turned around. Max was staring at him.

Marvin raised an eyebrow. ”What?”

Max shook his head. ”Nothing.”

”That doesn’t look like nothing.”

Max pointed toward the door. ”Michael Jackson just walked in here, asked you to perform in Germany, talked about your voice for an hour, and then reminded you to bring a coat.”

Marvin shrugged. ”He was being nice.”

Max stared at him. ”You’re truly beyond.”

The door opened again.

Jessica came through first, carrying a small paper bag in one hand and a half-eaten ice-cream cup in the other. ”Okay, we’re back.”

Lindsay followed behind her with two more cups. ”Don’t touch mine.”

Dorothy came in carrying a handful of napkins. ”I told you she’d eat half of it before we got upstairs.”

”I didn’t eat half.”

”You did.”

”I ate, like, three bites.”

”That’s half.”

”It’s not.”

Beyoncé walked in last, laughing. ”You two have been arguing about that since the elevator.”

Jessica dropped into the couch. ”Because she’s lying.”

”I am not.”

”You are.”

Marvin looked at the four of them.

Then at the food. ”You went downstairs for a snack.”

”Yeah,” Jessica said.

”You brought the entire café back.”

Lindsay looked at the bags. ”We were hungry.”

Dorothy nodded seriously. ”Very hungry.”

Beyoncé held up her ice cream. ”And they had this.”

Marvin shook his head. ”You were gone fifteen minutes.”

”Fifteen minutes is plenty of time,” Jessica said.

”For what?”

”For ice cream.”

Lindsay sat beside her. ”And we got you one.”

She held out a cup.

Marvin looked at it. ”You’re bribing me?”

”No.”

”Yes, you are.”

”Maybe.”

Marvin took it. ”Thank you.”

”You’re welcome.”

Beyoncé was still smiling. ”So...”

Marvin looked at her. ”So?”

”Are we actually recording today?”

Marvin nodded toward the booth. ”That’s the plan.”

”Good.”

She glanced at the microphone through the glass. ”I’ve been waiting all afternoon.”

Jessica’s eyes widened. ”Wait. You’re recording with Marvin now?”

Beyoncé nodded. ”Yeah.”

Lindsay looked between them. ”Like, together?”

”That’s generally what ’with’ means.”

Jessica laughed. ”Okay, smart-ass.”

Dorothy leaned forward. ”What are you recording?”

”Something Marvin wrote.”

”What’s it called?”

Marvin looked at Beyoncé. ”*My Boo*.”

Her eyes lit up. ”You finally settled on that?”

”Yeah. I think it fits.”

Beyoncé nodded, glancing toward the vocal booth. ”The melody’s been stuck in my head all day.”

”You’ve only heard it a couple of times.”

”Doesn’t matter.”

Marvin laughed. ”You remember everything.”

”Not everything.”

She smiled. ”Just the good stuff.”

Marvin leaned against the console. ”We’ll start with the first verse and chorus. I’ll handle the lead, and you come in on the second half. Then we’ll see how the harmonies sound.”

Beyoncé nodded. ”Okay.”

Jessica looked at Marvin. ”Wait. You’re really letting her sing on one of your records?”

Marvin gave her a look. ”She can sing.”

”I know.” Jessica glanced at Beyoncé. ”That wasn’t the question.”

Lindsay grinned. ”So she’s getting a song with Marvin.”

Beyoncé looked slightly embarrassed. ”It’s not a big deal.”

Jessica stared at her. ”Not a big deal?”

Beyoncé laughed. ”Why are you looking at me like that?”

”Because I’d kill for that.”

Lindsay nodded. ”Me too.”

Beyoncé pointed at them. ”You both sing?”

Jessica shrugged. ”I sing a little.”

Lindsay nodded. ”Me too.”

Jessica looked at Marvin. ”But apparently not enough.”

Marvin smiled. ”You could always practice.”

Jessica narrowed her eyes. ”Are you saying I’m bad?”

”No.”

”Good.”

”I said you could practice.”

”That sounded worse.”

Lindsay laughed.

Beyoncé shook her head. ”You’re making this way too serious.”

Jessica folded her arms. ”I’m just saying, it’s not fair.”

”What’s not fair?”

”You get to sing with Marvin.”

Beyoncé looked genuinely surprised. ”Jess.”

”What?”

”You make it sound like I stole something from you.”

”I didn’t say that.”

”You were thinking it.”

”I was thinking it would be fun.”

Lindsay pointed at Beyoncé. ”She’s jealous.”

”I’m not jealous.”

”You are.”

”I’m not.”

Dorothy, who had been quietly eating her ice cream, suddenly looked up. ”Maybe I could do it.”

Everyone turned toward her.

Dorothy blinked. ”What?”

Jessica smiled. ”You could?”

Dorothy nodded slowly. ”I mean... maybe.”

Beyoncé tilted her head. ”You sing?”

”A little.”

Lindsay grinned. ”Since when?”

Dorothy shrugged. ”I don’t know. I just... like bathroom singing.”

Marvin watched her for a moment.

There was something different in the way she’d said it.

Not a joke. Not the casual answer of a kid looking for attention. She meant it. Which only made his smile wider.

Jessica smiled. ”Well, there you go.”

Dorothy looked at Marvin. ”Could I?”

Marvin leaned against the console. ”Maybe.”

Her face brightened. ”Really?”

”Let’s hear you first.”

Dorothy smiled. ”Okay.”

Lindsay immediately leaned toward Jessica. ”She’s actually going to do it.”

Jessica whispered back. ”Good for her.”

Beyoncé laughed. ”Now you’ve started something.”

Marvin looked around the room. Jessica was still holding her ice cream. Lindsay was talking to Dorothy. Dorothy looked like she had just discovered a new possibility. Beyoncé was watching all three of them with an amused smile.

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