production.

-I have to go, - she said with a blend of joy, disappointment, and a tense maneuver of terror for the producers. Time was restless, yet the entire crew moved with a unified goal: to nail the rehearsals. It was like being in the theater, a phenomenon only seen in certain productions—musicals, grand dance routines, or whenever the director deemed it essential. Each detail was meticulously crafted, all converging into one cohesive effort. Yet everything revolved around two characters, each trying to channel ideas rooted in their roles.

-It's incredible how things work around here, - remarked Kate Winslet. She had long understood every nuance of the film's development—her character, Billy Carson's, Caledon's, Rose's mother, even Caledon's henchman—all orbiting around Rose's vivid imagery. Kate worked tirelessly.

-Do you mean the production? - Billy responded, somewhat lost in thought as his mind wandered through the swirling chaos of ideas—the early dawn exhaustion, the comics he was pushing to sell. It was an intense mix, but 1996 was the year of Altered Carbon, The Expansive, Mortal Engines, and the Titanic book. Alongside these was the not-so-forgotten Mistborn, which is likely to gain momentum next year. These books were among the bestsellers, but in the years to come, the chase for accumulation and premise would play out like a gift and a challenge.

-Yes, I love it. These invisible cities lost places. You were amazing today, - Kate said, observing the particular depth in each moment. Her cheeks were flushed. They were in a secluded room, entirely detached and hidden.

They gazed out from a high window at the invisible city, enveloped by emptiness.

-You're not going to mention the elephant in the room? - Kate asked.

-It's an elephant… but I believe silence should come first. Don't you enjoy the kind of silence shared by people who truly understand each other? It's a blessing to have someone to share that with, - Billy replied.

He jotted down a note, opened his suitcase, and poured a small glass of wine. The liquid courage helped articulate brief, brilliant thoughts. It gave Kate confidence and eased Billy's headache, though he used wine sparingly, often reminiscing about the times he'd shared it with his exes.

-How awkward this is, - Kate muttered. She was marinated in nervous energy, still adjusting after ending a five-year relationship last year, a thought that lingered.

Billy cupped her cheeks and kissed her lips. It was cold and awkward, but they both leaned into it, transforming it into something deeper. The attraction helped, though Billy's mind remained fixated on his enchanting Monica. Chemistry tests were fiery, passionate, and unbearably uncomfortable.

-So, what did you think this time? - Billy asked.

They kissed again, this time more passionately, filled with heat and a touch of anger. It was messy and more intense.

-I think this is it, - Billy said.

-Better, exciting. I think I finally understand how to kiss you, - Kate replied, sipping another glass of wine, her nerves electrified by the moment.

-See you next week, then. Baja California, right? - Kate said, knowing the pressures and stresses of acting would eventually catch up, as they always did in this industry.

-Everything will turn out better than we expect. These things only ever move in one direction, - Billy said, exuding an extra dose of confidence. It was both reassuring and disappointing, a gamble like every other in this business.

Downstairs, the producers gathered during their break. One final step remained to synchronize the production, aiming to wrap up filming by November or December. They celebrated at a private bar filled with artists. James Cameron, visibly drunk at the counter, marveled at the moment.

-These are producer parties, - Billy murmured, enjoying the unique energy of the event. The crowd was filled with repressed enthusiasm, finally unleashed.

-Billy, you're a madman! - called Russell Carpenter, one of the new production team members. As the director of photography, his many roles in reshaping the team were remarkable. Richard Harris sang a ballad, his way of performing, as the closed bar shielded them from the outside world.

-You all went overboard, - Billy quipped.

-Not really. Everyone here knows it's just a small gathering,- Russell replied, dragging Billy around the room. The camaraderie felt like a rite of passage. Everyone had stories, particularly Cameron, who reminisced about Terminator in 1991 and how Billy's script for the sequel had caused turmoil with producers who doubted the storyline.

-But it was a great film, - Billy said.

-That's the thing with movies, - James said, taking another drink. -People are filled with premonitions, and every premonition comes with baggage. That baggage is the harsh truth: films need to be poetically explained or emotionally collaborative. If a movie originates from controversy, it can create uncertainty, especially when it's a big investment from a politically correct group. -

-Is that true? - Billy asked.

John Ladou chimed in as if summoned.

-For instance, before you joined, we were at a breaking point. We needed $30 million to finish paying for licenses and other sets. Your arrival was the turning point of that meeting. Even your promise to invest made a difference. People trust someone who always does things right, - Ladou said, visibly worn out.

-Oh, at that time, did we run out of budget and have to improvise? We shot scenes in your grandparents' house instead of a mansion, repainted it in a weekend, and fixed it as best we could, - Richard Harris added, laughing about the chaotic budgeting woes.

-Damn, - they all exclaimed in unison.

...