Sony’s ‘Bye Bye Bye’ lawsuit just exposed Fortnite’s biggest emote problem

The potential death of Fortnite’s “Bye Bye Bye” emote isn’t just another vaulted cosmetic. It’s a warning shot about how fragile all those licensed dances really are when the lawyers start reading the fine print.

Key takeaways

• Choreographer Darrin Henson is suing Sony Music Holdings, claiming it licensed his iconic *NSYNC “Bye Bye Bye” routine to Epic and Marvel without his consent.
• The Fortnite “Bye Bye Bye” emote, tied to the Deadpool & Wolverine promo, hit the Item Shop briefly in September 2024 and hasn’t been seen since.
• Epic isn’t named in the lawsuit, but Fortnite is collateral damage: if Sony’s license was invalid, the emote is legally toxic until someone pays or a court rules.
• This case goes beyond one boyband dance – it pokes at the legal foundation of pop-culture emotes that Fortnite (and its players) treat like permanent collectibles.

The emote was never really yours – this lawsuit just makes it obvious

Let’s start with what players actually care about: will “Bye Bye Bye” ever come back to the Fortnite Item Shop?

Right now, the honest answer is: don’t count on it.

The emote arrived in late September 2024 as part of a Deadpool & Wolverine crossover push. It used the *NSYNC track and the unmistakable hand-wave choreography from the 2000 music video – exactly the kind of nostalgia bait Fortnite is built on. Then it disappeared. No returns, no rotations, just quietly gone.

Fast forward to March 27, 2026. Choreographer Darrin Henson, the guy who actually created the “Bye Bye Bye” routine back in 1999 and staged it for *NSYNC’s live shows and the VMAs, files a federal lawsuit against Sony Music Holdings. His claim: he owns the choreography, never signed it away, and Sony had no right to license those moves to Marvel for Deadpool & Wolverine or to Epic for Fortnite.

Notice who isn’t in the crosshairs: Epic Games. From what’s publicly known, Epic is a downstream licensee – they paid for what Sony (and/or Marvel) told them they were allowed to use. The alleged problem is higher up the chain: whether Sony’s video and music rights actually cover the dance itself under the 1976 Copyright Act.

If Henson is right and Sony overstepped, anything built on that license becomes radioactive. That includes the Fortnite emote. Even if nobody sues Epic directly, the safest move is exactly what we’re seeing: pull it from sale and keep it buried until the grown-ups in suits are finished fighting.

For anyone who’s been told they “own” their cosmetics, this is the fine-print reality: you own access, not control. A court filing in New York can nuke your locker in an instant, and there’s nothing you can do about it.

This isn’t Epic’s first dance fight – but the target is different this time

We’ve been here before, kind of. Fortnite’s history with dance emotes is a trail of legal landmines:

• Carlton’s “Fresh” dance actor Alfonso Ribeiro sued Epic over a Fresh-like emote.
• Rapper 2 Milly went after Epic for a “Milly Rock” clone.
• Other creators complained their viral moves were lifted without credit or cash.

Most of those cases fizzled. US law makes it hard to copyright very short, simple moves, and suits either got dropped, settled quietly, or ran into that wall.

The “Bye Bye Bye” situation is different in three key ways:

• The claim is about a full routine, not a three-second meme — a choreographic work, which the law is much more willing to protect.
• The target is Sony, not Epic. Henson is going after the label that controls *NSYNC’s music video and audio rights, arguing those don’t magically include the choreography.
• Fortnite is part of a bigger licensing chain that includes a Marvel movie (Deadpool & Wolverine), not just a game.

That last point matters. When a move shows up in a blockbuster film and the world’s biggest live-service game, you’re no longer arguing over a TikTok trend; you’re arguing over real money. Henson is seeking a declaration that he owns the routine and a cut of the revenue Sony made by licensing it out.

If he wins — or if Sony settles in a way that admits he has some control — anyone wanting to use that dance in the future will need to knock on his door, not just Sony’s. Suddenly, Marvel and Epic aren’t just paying for a song and a video reference; they’re paying a choreographer directly.

Fortnite is collateral damage, but the risk is baked into its business model

From a distance, Fortnite looks untouchable: still a cultural event, still printing money off crossovers, even as Epic cuts staff and raises V-Bucks prices. But this lawsuit quietly highlights the weakest part of that machine: the legal spaghetti behind every “iconic” emote and cosmetic.

Every time Fortnite sells you nostalgia — a Marvel skin, a Star Wars pickaxe, a boyband dance from 2000 — there’s a stack of contracts underneath: music rights, likeness rights, choreography rights, sometimes different across regions. Players only see the final product. Lawyers see a risk profile.

In the “Bye Bye Bye” case, Epic did what it usually does: partner with a big IP holder, trust they’ve cleared what needs clearing, ship the emote, collect the cash. If the court decides Sony’s license wasn’t valid, Epic isn’t suddenly the villain — but the emote becomes a legal headache. The cheapest, cleanest solution is to pretend it never existed.

That’s the uncomfortable bit the PR teams won’t highlight: the more Fortnite leans on licensed nostalgia instead of original dances and designs, the more your locker is at the mercy of rights disputes you’ll never hear about until something vanishes.

We’ve already seen music tracks rotate out of games when rights expire. We’ve watched Forza entries get delisted entirely because car and soundtrack contracts ran out. The difference with Fortnite is that the whole pitch is “your evolving collection” — yet that collection is built on licenses with expiry dates and, apparently, contested ownership.

Choreography copyright: the nerdy question that suddenly matters to gamers

The core legal fight here is weirdly academic: what exactly did Sony buy and what can it sell?

Under US law, choreography can be protected as its own category of work, separate from music, lyrics, or video. Henson says he created the “Bye Bye Bye” routine, first performed it live in 1999, staged it for the famous music video, and never transferred those specific rights to Sony. Sony, on the other hand, will likely argue that owning the video and related materials gives it enough control to license what appears in that video — music, visuals, and yes, the dance.

Why does a 1976 statute matter to someone dropping into Fortnite OG on a Saturday?

Because if Henson convinces a judge that choreography is a separate, tightly controlled layer of rights, that raises the cost and complexity of every future dance-based emote:

• Labels can’t assume video ownership lets them sell the moves.
• Game studios can’t assume a song license covers the routine the artist made famous.
• Every pop track with a signature dance becomes two negotiations instead of one.

That doesn’t kill crossover emotes, but it makes them slower, more expensive, and less attractive compared to made-for-Fortnite originals. In a world where Epic is already shaving costs — including laying off hundreds of staff while revenue stays strong — “let’s also pay the choreographer” may not be the pitch that wins internal budget fights.

The question I’d ask Sony and Epic

If I had a PR rep on the line, I’d skip the usual “we respect creators” fluff and ask one thing:

Did anyone, at any stage, ask who actually owned the choreography before putting it into Fortnite?

If the answer is “yes,” then someone decided Henson didn’t need to be at the table. That’s a legal bet Sony made, and this lawsuit is the receipt. If the answer is “no,” it means the industry is still treating choreography like free seasoning you get automatically with the music video — which is exactly what this case is challenging.

For Epic specifically, the follow-up question is brutally simple: when you sell an emote built on a complex licensing web, do you feel any obligation to protect players’ access to it if that web starts to tear? Or is yanking it from the shop and quietly moving on just part of the model?

What to watch next

• Early court filings and Sony’s response: Once Sony formally answers Henson’s complaint, we’ll see how aggressively it defends its right to license the routine. Look for arguments about what “video rights” actually cover.
• Deadpool & Wolverine edits: If the home release or streaming versions tweak or remove the “Bye Bye Bye” routine, that’s a big tell that Marvel is trying to limit exposure while Sony fights it out.
• Epic’s emote behavior: If “Bye Bye Bye” never returns and similar high-profile dance emotes get shorter runs or disappear faster, that’s Epic quietly risk-managing its way out of future lawsuits.
• Industry copycats: Other live-service games with dance-heavy cosmetics (think MMO social hubs and hero shooters) will be watching this. A win for Henson could mean more cautious — or more expensive — crossovers everywhere.

In practical terms, if you already own the “Bye Bye Bye” emote, expect to keep it usable in-game for now but don’t expect it to be promoted or resold. If you missed it the first time, assume it’s effectively vaulted unless Sony and Henson reach a deal that explicitly blesses new uses.

TL;DR

Choreographer Darrin Henson is suing Sony Music, claiming it illegally licensed his “Bye Bye Bye” dance to Marvel and Epic, putting Fortnite’s crossover emote in legal limbo. The case doesn’t name Epic, but it exposes how fragile licensed dances and cosmetics really are when ownership of things like choreography gets challenged. If you care about your locker, the practical takeaway is simple: treat licensed emotes as rentals dressed up as collectibles, and expect more of them to vanish the moment the contracts — or the courts — say they should.