Echoes of Tomorrow:2015

The runaway success of American Teen shifted Alex's role in the public consciousness. He was no longer just the wunderkind pop star who started his own label; he was now a proven tastemaker, a producer with a golden touch capable of shepherding wildly different artists to both critical and commercial glory. This new reputation, combined with his recent Grammy and Oscar wins, meant that the phone calls coming into his father's office were changing. They weren't just from record labels and concert promoters anymore. Now, Hollywood was calling.

The most intriguing inquiry came on a Tuesday afternoon. David Vance walked into Alex's home studio holding a notepad, his expression a mixture of pride and bewilderment.

"Alex, I just had a call that was… different," David began, leaning against the doorframe. "It was from the Creative Artists Agency. On behalf of a filmmaker named Damien Chazelle and his producing partners. They want to meet with you. Urgently."

Alex felt a jolt of recognition so strong it was almost electric. Damien Chazelle. La La Land. In his own timeline, the film had been a cultural touchstone, a beautiful, bittersweet love letter to dreams and the city that both makes and breaks them. Its music, composed by Justin Hurwitz, had been a key part of its soul. It seemed this timeline's version of the film was struggling to find its voice.

"Set the meeting, Dad," Alex said, his voice calm, betraying none of the sudden, racing thoughts in his mind. "I'm interested."

The meeting took place two days later in a sleek, minimalist production office in Beverly Hills that overlooked the sprawling city. Alex, accompanied by David, sat across from Damien Chazelle, whose intense, intellectual energy was palpable. With him were two of his key collaborators: Fred Berger, a sharp and focused producer, and Justin Hurwitz, a gifted musician who, in this timeline, was serving as the project's music supervisor, struggling to wrangle a coherent sound for the film.

Chazelle leaned forward, his hands clasped on the glass table. He spoke with the rapid-fire passion of a true believer. "Alex, thank you for coming. We're making a movie called La La Land. It's a full-blown musical, but one that feels real. Like people could just burst into song on the 405 freeway."

"The problem is the tone," Justin Hurwitz cut in, a frustrated sigh escaping him. "We've commissioned songs from a dozen different writers. We have great pop songs, great jazz pieces. But none of it feels… cohesive. None of it captures the feeling of the story."

"What is the feeling?" Alex asked, genuinely curious to hear their vision.

"It's the magic and the melancholy of Los Angeles," Chazelle said, his eyes distant. "It's the soaring hope of a first audition and the crushing despair of the thousandth rejection. It's about two people who love each other, but they love their dreams just a little bit more. We need the music to be the glue. We need a song that sounds like it could have been written in 1955 or last Tuesday. And frankly," he admitted, "we're stuck." He looked at Alex. "We heard what you did with your song 'Hello.' The longing, the classic structure but with a modern heartbreak. We saw you win the Oscar. We think you might be the only person who gets it."

Alex listened, nodding slowly. He had already queried the Codex that morning, refreshing his memory of every melodic line, every chord change, every lyrical nuance of the film's iconic score. He knew this music like the back of his hand.

"The core of the movie," Alex mused aloud, playing the part of a creative brainstorming, "it feels like it should revolve around a single, recurring melody. A theme that can be both joyful and heartbreaking, depending on how you play it." He stood up and walked over to a beautiful grand piano that sat in the corner of the office. The producers exchanged intrigued glances.

"What if the main theme was something simple, almost like a lullaby?" Alex continued, sitting down on the piano bench. "A melody that's both wistful and hopeful, like the city itself. Something like this."

His fingers, moving with an effortless grace that belied his age, began to play the iconic, instantly recognizable melody of "Mia & Sebastian's Theme." The notes were delicate, questioning, hanging in the silent, sunlit room. He played it through once, letting the feeling sink in. Chazelle's eyes were wide. Hurwitz was leaning forward, completely captivated.

Without pausing, Alex seamlessly transitioned into the chords for "City of Stars," his left hand providing a gentle, rhythmic base. He began to hum the melody softly, then let the words come, his voice quiet but clear.

"City of stars… Are you shining just for me?..."

He didn't perform the whole song. He didn't need to. He sang just enough of the verse and chorus to paint the picture, his voice filled with that signature blend of cautious optimism and underlying sorrow. When his hands finally came to rest on the keys, the silence in the room was absolute. No one moved. No one breathed.

It was Chazelle who spoke first, his voice a reverent whisper. "That… is the soul of our movie. How did you do that?"

"It's what the story felt like to me," Alex replied with a simple shrug.

"You're hired," Fred Berger, the producer, said decisively, breaking the spell. "Whatever you want. You're our music composer."

As David began discussing the preliminary details of the deal with the producers, Alex, thinking strategically, made a bold request. He envisioned a scene from the movie's glorious, bittersweet epilogue—the "what if" fantasy sequence where Mia and Sebastian's lives turned out differently.

"I'm imagining a scene in the epilogue," Alex improvised, painting a picture for Chazelle. "The 'perfect life' montage. Mia and Sebastian are married, successful. They have a child. A young daughter, maybe around twelve or thirteen. She's sitting at the piano in their beautiful home, and her father, Sebastian, is teaching her the first few notes of their theme. It's a small moment, almost a throwaway, but it's powerful. It shows their love story being passed on to the next generation through the music."

Chazelle's eyes lit up, captivated by the imagery. "I love that. A quiet, emotional bookend. It brings everything full circle."

"I know a young actress who would be perfect for that role," Alex continued smoothly. "She's an incredible talent, a gifted musician herself, and she has this bright, expressive face that can convey a whole story without a single line of dialogue. Her name is Olivia Rodrigo."

He saw the producers exchange glances. They knew the name. Olivia's Disney show was a major hit, and she was known for her bubbly charm. Casting her in a silent, poignant role in a prestigious musical would be an interesting and buzzy choice.

"She's the right age, and she can actually play the piano, which would make the shot authentic," a casting director who had joined the meeting chimed in with approval. "It's a great idea. Very smart casting."

"Get her agent on the phone," Chazelle said with a wave of his hand. "If Alex Vance vouches for her, let's bring her in for a chemistry read. I love the idea."

Alex left the meeting having achieved more than he could have hoped. He was now an A-list Hollywood composer, tasked with creating the musical heart of a future masterpiece. He walked out into the bright California sunshine, the LA skyline sprawling before him. He pulled out his phone, the melody of "City of Stars" playing in his head. He had two calls to make. The first was to his father, to finalize the deal. The second, and the one he was looking forward to most, was to Olivia, to tell her he had just gotten her an audition to play the daughter of a movie star in a real Hollywood film.

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