A continental director from many years in the future unexpectedly returns to Hollywood in 1986, and so begins his legendary journey to take step-by-step control of the center of the world's largest film industry. ----------------------- It's 1 chapter per day at 1 p.m. (Arizona) in every novel I upload. 3 daily chapters in each novel on patreon! p@treon.com/INNIT ----------------------- DISCLAIMER The story belongs entirely to the original author.
In a Santa Monica restaurant.
Leaning slightly toward Simon, Madonna chattered animatedly about a song Simon had recently written for her. "You look familiar, I guess it's because you're dressed that I didn't recognize you," she laughed. "Simon, how did you come up with that line in 'Celebration'? If I didn't know your age, I would have thought it was penned by a seasoned playboy."
'Pulp Fiction' was nearing the final stages of sound editing. Simon wasn't completely satisfied with some of the lines delivered by Sean Penn and Madonna in their scenes and had phoned to see if they could spare some time to redo them. Luckily, the couple was back on the West Coast and agreed happily.
After wrapping up the dubbing session that morning, Simon naturally treated them to lunch.
If Sean Penn wasn't present, Simon wouldn't mind teasing Madonna in return, but in this situation, he merely smiled and asked, "Speaking of which, how are the sales for 'You-Can-Dance'?"
Madonna lit up at the question: "2.16 million in North America and about 3.35 million overseas, totaling 5.51 million. I initially thought hitting 5 million would be great, but now it looks like we can double that. So, Simon, when are you going to give me the next song?"
Simon replied, "It has to wait for your next album, right? I can't just write something offhand."
"You can write something offhand if it's good enough. I could even create an album around your song," Madonna insisted, her tone showing she had thoroughly enjoyed the benefits. "Also, Simon, do you have any small roles for me? This time I'll do it for free, just one song in exchange."
Simon offered, "A high school thriller, opens with a girl receiving a call from a psychotic killer, soon she's murdered, her body not only hung from a tree but also disemboweled. Interested?"
Madonna immediately shook her head: "No way, that kind of scenario is too easily imitated by extreme fans. I don't want to end up like John Lennon."
Simon shrugged, "Then I don't have anything else for you."
Madonna hesitated, "Is that an actual role?"
"Yes, but hearing you say that, I'm a bit worried too, so I won't offer it to you," Simon shook his head, turning to Sean Penn, skillfully changing the subject, "Sean, how's 'Colorful Rattlesnake' going, the one you did with Robert Duvall?"
"It's set for April 15th. I think the film turned out great, but Orion isn't very confident about it," Sean sounded slightly regretful, then added, "Simon, I heard you picked up 'Rain Man,' which Ovitz has been personally pushing?"
Recalling recent media coverage and reactions from people around him, Simon smiled, "Yeah, I'm now officially a cash cow. You're not going to tease me about it, are you?"
Sean hesitated at his words.
Madonna bluntly said, "Sean wants to try directing too. Simon, you're so rich now, why don't you invest in us?"
Simon nodded with a smile, "Let me see the script first. If it's feasible, and this cash cow hasn't been milked dry by then, no problem."
Madonna envied, "1.6 billion dollars. I think that's enough for me to spend a lifetime."
Simon gave Sean a look, "Sean, looks like you need to start earning. This woman plans to spend 1.6 billion in her lifetime."
Sean shrugged with a macho gesture, "A good scolding could curb those thoughts."
Madonna playfully punched Sean's shoulder, "Maybe I could earn that much money on my own."
After lunch, Simon saw the couple off and was just settling into his car when his assistant Neil Bennett mentioned, "Mr. Westeros, Ms. Pascal just called. Mr. George Kogo, the chair of the Writers Guild, would like to speak with you. He's already at the company."
Checking his watch, Simon had planned to visit WMA's headquarters that afternoon, but since Amy had personally called, he couldn't avoid this. "Then we should head back to the company."
As Neil started the car, Simon used the car phone to greet Jonathan Friedman, and soon the SUV pulled up outside Daenerys Entertainment's headquarters.
Seeing Simon's car, Amy came out to meet him.
On the way back, Simon had already guessed the purpose of WGA Chairman George Kogo's visit, and Amy's explanation confirmed his suspicions.
The WGA, divided into East and West Coast branches, specifically had George Kogo as the chair of the West Coast. In his office, Simon met the man: a sprightly elderly gentleman in his sixties with a round
face and silver hair.
After a brief chat, Kogo got to the point, "Simon, as you know, we're negotiating with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers. As one of Hollywood's most outstanding young screenwriters, we'd love you to join the WGA and voice for the writing community."
Simon looked uncomfortable, "Mr. Kogo, I run my own production company. If I join the WGA and a strike happens, I won't be able to comply with the strike rules."
Kogo shook his head, smiling, "Simon, negotiations are ongoing; a strike isn't certain. And there are always exceptions; even if a strike occurs, you just need to refrain from screenwriting and avoid signing new contracts with major studios for a while."
Simon, sensing Kogo's optimism, realized he wasn't aware of the impending strike's severity.
A five-month-long strike would halt all projects at Daenerys Entertainment from hiring professional writers. If Simon bound himself to WGA rules, it could shutter his company.
Firmly shaking his head, Simon regretfully said, "I'm sorry, George, it really isn't convenient for me to join the WGA right now."
Kogo did not give up easily and spent over ten minutes trying to persuade Simon, but eventually had to leave upon seeing his firm stance.
Politely seeing Kogo out, Amy remarked as his car left the parking lot, "The Writers Guild of America Awards will announce their nominations next week."
Instead of rushing to WMA, Simon returned to the office building with Amy, asking, "You wanted me to join the WGA, huh?"
Amy nodded, "The voting for the Oscars' screenplay awards is also in the hands of WGA members. The screenplay category is where you have the best chance to win this year. Refusing George Kogo, 'Run Lola Run' definitely won't stand a chance."
Simon wryly said, "One less WGA member like me shouldn't matter, right?"
Amy replied, "Last year, your scripts for 'Run Lola Run,' 'The Butterfly Effect,' and 'Final Destination' all made it into the top ten box office hits. A screenwriter like that not being a WGA member? It would surely diminish their stance in any strike."
Simon felt helpless, aware of the thoughts of both Kogo and Amy.
Both clearly didn't think this year's strike would be severe or even that a strike would definitely happen.
If Simon, a top screenwriter at the peak of his Hollywood career, joined the WGA now and voiced support for negotiations, it would be beneficial for both parties.
During this critical phase of award season voting, Simon's stance could certainly earn him favor among voting writers.
Conversely, if the WGA went on strike and Simon, who had written three top box office hits last year, remained detached from the striking group, he could freely continue writing and signing contracts, which would be quite a slap in the face and embarrassing for the WGA.
After 'Run Lola Run,' Simon had become well-known in Hollywood and met the criteria to join the WGA, but there had been no invitation until now, clearly not coincidental.
As Amy had mentioned, the Writers Guild of America Awards nominations were imminent.
Obviously, if Simon agreed to join the WGA now, he would be a 'hot favorite' for next week's nominations and subsequent awards.
But, fully aware of the upcoming months' events, Simon couldn't possibly accept the WGA's invitation.
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