As soon as Denis Irwin received the £4.5 million from Warner Bros. Records for his nephew, he marched straight to Old Trafford to resign.
But to Claire's surprise, not only was his resignation denied—the Glazer family's shareholders unanimously voted to let him keep his job and salary.
This was unexpected.
The Glazers' stinginess was legendary in the Premier League. Their leveraged buyout of Manchester United had buried the club in debt, nearly driving it to bankruptcy.
In recent years, United's transfer spending (net) hadn't exceeded £60 million per season. Not a single signing had cost over £20 million.
Claire knew that if not for Sir Alex Ferguson's iron grip over youth development, scouting, and transfers, the club would collapse. The day Ferguson retired and the board regained control would mark the beginning of United's decline.
[I've got £2.7 million in savings. We'll make this work. Wait for my good news.]
Claire stared at her uncle's text, her lips twitching. She knew he planned to invest, but she hadn't expected his life savings to be just £2.7 million.
Seriously? A former United legend shouldn't be this broke.
As dusk settled, Claire finally welcomed her agent, Costa Majo, into her apartment.
"I thought your uncle quit to build your sports team. Why are you still living here?"
"I'm broke. He took my money for the investment," Claire replied matter-of-factly.
Costa sighed, scanning the small but well-equipped apartment. His eyes landed on a poster—then another, and another.
"Huh. Didn't take you for a Megan Fox fan."
"Yep." Claire rolled up her sleeve, revealing a tattoo of the actress's name. "See?"
Costa barely glanced at it. "Lucky you. Warner's negotiating with the Transformers team. If you've got talent, maybe you can write a song for the film. Who knows? You might even meet her."
He waved off Claire's sudden wide-eyed stare. "Anyway, business first. We've lined up over 40 media outlets, including USA Today. Once the timing's right, we'll go all-in."
"You told Malcolm Glazer you had a new song, right? Send me the demo. If it's good, we'll package it with your other track."
"But this time, we're trying something new with the release."
He held up a hand before Claire could protest. "Don't worry—we're still doing physical CDs. But the digital drop comes months earlier."
Claire barely heard him. Her mind was stuck on one thing:
Write a song for Transformers.
The idea looped in her head like a spell. Miraculously, her "bond" didn't flare up—this time.
"Streaming's a smart move," she said absently. "If you can get top DJs to play it at festivals, even better. Helps with hype."
Costa jotted that down, impressed. "Good point."
"What's the 'right timing' you're waiting for?"
Costa's grin turned sly. He pulled out a folder. "A star's success hinges on their persona."
"Yours has potential—being a footballer boosts exposure. But too much too soon burns out your long-term value."
"So I've crafted you a new persona."
Claire frowned. She knew celebrities had fabricated images, but hearing it applied to herself felt… off.
What's the point of fame if you can't be real?
"Relax," Costa said. "It's just a small tweak. Picture this: You're hiking, save a sick old man—who turns out to be USA Today's CEO. He offers a reward, but you refuse."
"…That's the most cliché story ever."
"Never underestimate Warner's PR machine."
Claire rubbed her temples. "I need time to think. Everything's moving too fast."
Costa casually eyed Megan's posters. "Time's a luxury. Linkin Park's already talking to Michael Bay about the Transformers theme."
Claire stiffened.
He knows.
Her uncle must've told him. That's why he's dangling this now—playing her perfectly.
"…F**k."
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