Chapter 631: Warner's Additional Investment!

The film was not just a mere success; it was a blockbuster, hailed by critics and audiences alike. And as the awards season approached, the crew eagerly threw their hats into the ring for the Oscars, pinning their hopes on three pivotal categories: Best Director, Best Actor, and Best Actress.

Compared to seasoned winners like Martin and Charlize, David Fincher's journey to an Oscar resembled that of Leonardo DiCaprio's, fraught with repeated near misses and disappointments.

"This time around, snagging a nomination won't be the hard part," Martin remarked, his gaze drifting over the headlines. "But winning might come with its own set of challenges."

"After all," he continued, "the subject matter of 'Gone Girl' isn't exactly in line with mainstream sensibilities."

Charlize, ever the astute observer of Hollywood's inner workings, swiped the magazine from Martin's hand, her brow furrowing as she scanned the cover. "Can the Oscars still be swayed like this?" she pondered aloud.

Martin shrugged, flipping through another newspaper. "Pregnancy is revered in society, and the Academy's no exception."

"Why the long face?" Charlize quipped, her tone playful. "Didn't know shedding clothes and gaining a bump could give someone an edge?"

Martin leveled a look at her. "Because, my dear, we're competing in the same category."

Charlize waved off his concerns. "Who even thinks like that? Ridiculous."

"People like me," Martin replied bluntly.

Charlize arched an eyebrow, impressed. "Well, you're certainly... unique."

As they bantered, Charlize couldn't shake off a nagging suspicion. Gesturing to the magazine between them, she pointed at Natalie's baby bump on the cover. "Your handiwork too?"

Martin paused, caught off guard. "Absolutely not!"

Charlize raised her hands in mock surrender. "Just teasing. But hey, who knows? You give her a hit, she gives you a bump. Fair trade, right?"

Martin shook his head, chuckling. "You underestimate my taste, Sally. Besides, Natalie's pregnancy has nothing to do with me. It's all about her agent pulling strings."

Charlize nodded in understanding. "PR game's something else, huh? You, my friend, are a master."

Meanwhile, the film's promotional whirlwind transformed the crew into globe-trotting acrobats, hopping from city to city in a dizzying blur.

Thanks to their tireless efforts, "Gone Girl" not only raked in hefty box office numbers but also left audiences clamoring for more, drawn back to its dark, beguiling narrative.

By the second weekend, the film's North American box office had only dipped by a modest 36%, adding another $38.15 million to its coffers.

And as the numbers soared past the $100 million mark, everyone involved basked in the glow of success.

For Charlize, the triumph translated into a staggering $10 million offer for "Mad Max 4" – a career milestone that underscored her newfound status as a Hollywood powerhouse.

Despite her fame, she'd never before commanded such a hefty paycheck, proving that sometimes, winning an Oscar was just the beginning of an even greater journey.

Martin's eyes widened as he absorbed the figures swirling around him. "$20 million just for the lead role? Plus bonuses?" he exclaimed, clearly impressed by the staggering sum.

Meanwhile, Gillian Flynn found herself in the spotlight as well, her literary success catapulting her into the halls of power at Warner Pictures.

In a sleek office overlooking the city, her agent delivered the news with a flourish. "The success of 'Gone Girl' has set the stage for Ms. Flynn's next masterpiece," he proclaimed confidently. "Fans are clamoring for her new work, and the film adaptation is eagerly awaited!"

Jon Berg, the president, leaned forward with a smile, already envisioning the next blockbuster. "Tell me more," he urged, eager to capitalize on Flynn's rising star.

The agent wasted no time in laying out Flynn's demands, each one carefully calculated to elevate her status even further. "First," he began, "we need to up the ante on 'Dark Places'. Ms. Flynn insists on a budget of $70 million to ensure a film even more captivating than 'Gone Girl'."

Berg nodded in agreement, recognizing the wisdom in investing in Flynn's vision. "And the second point?" he prompted.

"The leading lady must be top-tier," the agent continued. "Originally, Ms. Flynn had her sights set on Charlize Theron, but she's since committed to another project."

As Berg mulled over the details, he couldn't help but feel emboldened by the success of 'Gone Girl' and the potential of Flynn's next venture.

"Rest assured," he assured the agent, "we'll spare no expense in bringing her vision to life. And as for the leading lady, let's keep a close eye on Natalie Portman. If she clinches the Oscar, she'll be our prime candidate."

The agent nodded in agreement, impressed by Berg's strategic thinking. "A wise decision indeed," he murmured, knowing that Warner Bros. was the perfect partner to bring Flynn's vision to fruition.

As the agent departed, Berg's attention shifted to another pressing matter: Ridley Scott's latest project.

Venturing into the bustling post-production studio, Berg encountered Christian Bale, the star of Ridley's epic film.

"How was Morocco?" Berg inquired, eager for updates on the production.

Bale grinned, a hint of pride in his voice. "Filming was a breeze," he replied confidently.

Berg offered words of encouragement, fully confident in Bale's ability to deliver a box office smash.

Moving through the studio, Berg found Ridley Scott himself, deep in the throes of editing.

"Can we wrap this up before the Oscars?" Berg asked, his tone brimming with optimism.

Ridley nodded, his determination unwavering. "We'll make it happen," he vowed, embodying the spirit of a director committed to his craft.

With the promise of another blockbuster on the horizon, Berg left the studio, his mind already racing with plans for the future of Warner Pictures.

Jon leaned forward, his eyes alight with determination. "I'm pushing for an early finish," he declared, his voice resolute. "I'll submit an investment report to the committee, bumping up production to $170 million."

But he didn't stop there. "And I need a commercial clip before the Super Bowl," he added, his tone brooking no argument.

Ridley met his gaze with equal fervor. "Consider it done," he vowed, his confidence unwavering.

Jon extended his hand, sealing the deal with a firm shake. "It's a deal," he affirmed.

Ridley matched his grip, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "It's a deal," he echoed.

As plans for the future took shape, Ridley harbored his own ambitions. "Once this epic is wrapped," he mused, "I'm diving into 'The Martian'. We start filming by June."

Martin Davis nodded in agreement, his mind already buzzing with logistics. "We've got you covered," he assured Ridley, a sense of camaraderie infusing his words.

....

As Thanksgiving approached, the crew dispersed for a well-deserved break.

Martin found himself in Atlanta, a familiar retreat from the chaos of Hollywood. But this year, his usual companions were absent, leaving only Elena and Lily.

Over dinner, Lily regaled Martin with tales of romance gone awry, her mischievous grin belying her pride in her meddling.

Martin poured wine for his companions, his thoughts drifting to Emma, a specter from their past.

Elena shook her head, her concern evident. "No word from her since she followed that group," she lamented.

Martin's response was stoic. "No news is good news," he remarked, his words tinged with resignation.

As they strolled through the quiet streets of Atlanta, Martin sought solace in the simplicity of the moment, longing for a moment alone with Elena.

But Lily's presence loomed large, an ever-present reminder of familial bonds.

Retreating to their accommodations, Martin and Elena sought refuge from the world outside, leaving Lily to her own devices downstairs.

Though Lily's protests echoed through the house, Martin and Elena found solace in each other's company, their shared history a balm for weary souls.

In the days that followed, Martin immersed himself in the familiar rhythms of Atlanta, reconnecting with old friends and tying up loose ends.

But as December loomed on the horizon, he bid farewell to the quiet comforts of Atlanta, bracing himself for the challenges awaiting him in Los Angeles.