197: Chapter 202: Wake Up

Scott said, June in Seattle isn't hot, suitable for the first stop to break in, and Seattle is Chen Mo's lucky city. The day "Closer" premiered on Seattle radio, the play count broke the record in three hours.

But Chen Mo insisted — "I started my journey to the world from Los Angeles."

Scott looked at Chen Mo, the corners of his mouth slightly raised, and said proudly: "Before your vacation, you said 'I will go on my own,' and now you have turned that sentence into one hundred cities on the schedule."

Scott picked up the final version of the tour schedule from the desk.

Five pages, each page densely packed with cities, dates, venue names, and seating capacities.

He put the printed paper into a kraft paper envelope and pushed it to Chen Mo.

Chen Mo pulled those five pages from the envelope and read them from beginning to end.

More than thirty shows in North America, more than twenty in Europe, over a dozen in Asia, nearly ten in Oceania, and several in South America.

The global finale is the Staples Center in Los Angeles next May.

One hundred shows, eleven months on the road.

"There is one more thing, before the tour, I want to release a new song," Chen Mo suddenly said, "I've been writing it for a long time."

"Release it now? The Grammy Awards just ended, the heat is still at its peak. Usually, at this time, you should let the market digest it for a while, and release a new single after the tour is announced —"

Scott frowned slightly: "Double peaks overlapping, communication efficiency is highest. You want to squeeze it in before the tour tickets go on sale?"

"Yes, "Wake Up." I wrote a demo in London last October, and later changed it several times. Explosive rock, suitable for an opening. The drum beats explode from beginning to end, the bass line doesn't play tricks, the verse is compressed to the lowest, and then the chorus goes straight up."

"The first show of the tour, the lights are completely dark, the first drum beat hits, tens of thousands of people bounce up from their seats. This song is that kind of moment." Chen Mo tapped the chair arm and raised an eyebrow at Scott.

"When will it be released?"

"One week later, March 12th."

"Promotion won't be in time. Usually, a new single release cycle requires at least a few weeks of warm-up. You are telling me now that it will be released in a week, there isn't even enough time for cover design."

"No need for promotion. I will post a snippet of a cappella on Instagram as a teaser. The lyrics are about opening eyes from the darkness, consistent with the tour theme "Awakening." Three Grammy Awards trophies are enough —"

"The best promotion isn't media press releases; it's that you have already proven yourself at the Staples Center. Those fans who stayed up late waiting for the live stream, they don't need a warm-up, they are waiting for me to speak."

Scott was silent for a long while, then leaned back into his chair, crossed his hands on his abdomen, and a faint smile hung on the corners of his mouth.

"Last time you made Obama wait for a schedule, saying you wouldn't take any performances before the Grammy Awards. Now you say three Grammy Awards are enough. Chen Mo, you are the only person I have ever seen who uses winning awards as promotion."

"It's using works as promotion. The Grammy Awards are not used to remind others that I have won; they are to remind them that I haven't stopped yet."

Chen Mo smiled: "Just tell me, is it useful?"

Outside the window, the palm trees in Beverly Hills were gently swaying under the afternoon sun.

"Do you want to live in Beverly?" Scott suddenly asked, then said again, "Forget it, you won't come."

Hearing this, Chen Mo patted his shoulder, smiled, and said nothing.

He suddenly thought of something and said: "Leave twenty front-row tickets for me for the Changsha show."

"It's your call."

First stop Los Angeles, 3 shows; Changsha New Year's Eve, 1 show; passing through five continents, 54 cities, finally returning to Los Angeles.

Starting from June 15th, ending on May 1st of the following year.

"You decide the guest performers yourself. Lucian said he trusts your connections, but it's best to finalize them soon." Scott squinted and smiled.

Chen Mo nodded and said: "Shawn in Toronto, Ed in London, Charlie in Los Angeles, Rihanna in New York, Taylor in Nashville, there should be many more people..."

Chen Mo grabbed a handful of hair and bragged: "Sorry, I have too many amazing friends."

Scott rolled his eyes, reached out to invite him out, and finally said: "Don't forget to make a list."

Chen Mo laughed out loud and walked out, beaming.

March 12th, 9:58 AM. Chen Mo's Instagram had no warning, suddenly posted a video, with the caption: "WAKE UP. 10AM PST."

In the video, Chen Mo sat up from the bed with messy hair and started singing: "Wheels up when I'm off the ground." "I'm nowhere but I'm all around." "I'm spinnin' watch me now."

Less than two minutes after it was sent, more than 100,000 comments flooded the comment section.

Everyone was guessing. Some said it was a new album teaser, some said it was the tour theme song, some said this songwriter was about to wake up a generation of listeners.

Ten o'clock sharp.

"Wake Up" was simultaneously launched on major global streaming platforms.

No warm-up, no radio promotion, no playlist priority recommendation.

Scott was still trying to convince him last night to warm up for at least a week, but Chen Mo refused.

He is just that rebellious.

Three Grammy Awards are the best warm-up.

He handled this song entirely on his own—lyrics, composition, arrangement, recording, mixing. He only let Evan and David hear it for feedback. The lyrics were about the most difficult time —

Countless nights curled up on the bed in a rented house, misunderstood by the whole world, but still getting up to keep writing.

Roommate Mike was snoring nearby. He wrapped himself in a thin blanket and changed the chorus many times until the early morning, suddenly hearing birds chirping outside the window.

He guaranteed that was the loudest sound he had ever heard in his life.

The chorus has three "Wake up"s, each one higher than the last.

The first time is a low roar, shouting up from the bottom of the abyss.

The second time is a struggle, the throat starts to tighten, but the pronunciation is more ruthless.

The third time, he reached a vocal range he had never challenged before, a growl.

He recorded this chorus in the studio nineteen times, his vocal cords congested, his fingers hitting the keyboard until his knuckles turned red, repeatedly tearing and sewing the same chorus.

His producer, David, took off his monitor headphones after listening to the last version, leaned back in his chair for a while, and said one sentence.

"You are fighting with your past self."

Chen Mo said proudly: "I won."

"You won big." David said with a smile, his eyes full of indulgence for his junior.

Within one hour after release, Spotify global streams exceeded eight million, breaking the first-hour record held by his own "Closer."

Three hours later, it exceeded twenty million.

Twelve hours later, "Wake Up" debuted at number one on the Billboard Hot 100, dropping from the sky.

The Billboard official website quickly updated the trend chart: "Wake Up" was red across the board in radio, streaming, and downloads.

Scott stood in front of the office glass window, arms crossed, watching the blindingly red upward curve on the screen. He didn't speak for a long time, then sent a message to the marketing department group.

"Cancel all promotion budgets. This song doesn't need to be pushed."

Scott put down the tablet, turned his head to look at the palm trees in Beverly Hills outside the window, the tree shadows gently swaying in the March sun.

After a while, he whispered: "He doesn't need me anymore."

When the fledgling bird you carefully nurtured spreads its wings and flies high, you should feel gratified and proud, but why is there a sense of loss lingering in your heart?

Taylor posted a screenshot of the "Wake Up" playback interface on Instagram.

Shawn posted several tweets in a row, each one longer than the last, the last one saying this whole song is an alarm clock for everyone to wake up.

Ed's comment was more concise: "Italy shocked Germany twice, Chen Mo shocked the world twice."

Charlie's technical perspective was as calm as ever: "The high note in the last chorus isn't mixed voice, it's chest voice. He recorded that note for a long time, maybe even more."

Chen Mo replied to Charlie with one word underneath: "Nineteen."

Charlie replied with a middle finger emoji.

Rolling Stone's music review was published on the afternoon of the release, titled "Wake Up: Chen Mo's Awakening Manifesto."

"This is not a pop song, this is a manifesto. "Wake Up" is not a catchy song written for fans. He used a song to tell his past self — you didn't die, you woke up."

Billboard's official website followed closely: "Chen Mo used a rock song to declare: The Grammy Awards are not the finish line, but the starting line. Three trophies didn't make him soft, but made him harder."

Domestically, the Weibo topic "Chen Mo Wake Up" reading volume exceeded one billion in twelve hours.

A netizen sighed, saying they didn't know he also understood rock, they thought Chen Mo only had lyrical songs.

The People's Daily official Weibo forwarded this song, with only one line of text: "Chinese youth, waking up."

This tweet was relayed by Xinhua News Agency and CCTV News. Some netizens clipped the lyrics and put them together with Chen Mo's lecture at the Beijing Film Academy, captioned: "He taught us dont stop, tonight he uses rock to wake us up."

The afternoon of the second day after release, Chen Mo was strumming the acoustic guitar in the recording studio when Scott's call came in.

On the other end of the screen, his voice held a glow not seen for many years, saying Universal Music had bet all the promotion budget for the next quarter on "Wake Up," but the data told him it didn't need to be pushed.

Chen Mo said then return the budget; there are still many places that need money during the tour.

Scott: ... speechless.