Shortly after noon, the first numbers from the opening day began to come in.
Gregory Lang was standing in Harry's house, looking at his cell phone and reading the same line repeatedly, hoping it would magically respell the number in some available, less-incomprehensible way.
On the television behind him, there was a financial news network with the sound off, as it was currently focused on oil prices, not weekend box office results. Sunlight streamed through the huge windows, highlighting the dust floating in the room.
Harry was seated on the couch, without shoes, coffee in front of him on the coffee table and appeared relaxed for a man who has mastered the art of being nervous.
Greg cleared his throat.
"Okay then, Friday estimates have been announced, and they look good," he said carefully, in a low tone.
Harry nodded. "Continue."
Instead of pacing back and forth, Greg chose to take a seat on the opposite side of Harry's couch, which spoke volumes. "Looks like domestic first-day total will come in at... four point three million dollars."
He paused.
There was no sign of change from Harry.
Greg continued slowly. "Assuming Saturday and Sunday come in close to the same level, we should have roughly a total of fifteen to seventeen million for the opening weekend."
Once again, Harry said nothing.
"The budget was forty million and then spent another twenty million on marketing," Greg added as if Harry had forgotten.
He's just leaning back on the couch with his hands behind his head, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
"That's exactly where I figured we would be," Harry replied.
Greg looked surprised. "You—anticipated this?"
"Yes."
Greg frowned. "You're not... unhappy?"
Harry finally turned to look at him. Harry looked calm, relaxed, and was not forcing himself to appear optimistic. If anything, he appeared slightly amused.
"Greg, this was never going to debut as a blockbuster," he said.
Greg exhaled. "I had the impression that Fox—"
Harry calmly interjected to Greg's point by stating, "Fox handled its duties with regard to the promotional aspect of the project. They did a standard amount of advertising via trailers, appearances on late-night talk shows, and holding screenings for film critics. However, just because Fox performed this promotion does not mean that they will be successful at achieving a high box office return on their first weekend."
Greg pulled his hand through his hair as he responded, "We have Cate as the film's main star and the most recognisable person for this film."
"Just because we have Cate does not mean that she will put people in the seats for the opening weekend. Daniel will not do that either." Harry made this point while moving forward in his chair and showing more emotion than before.
"People from the industry went to see the film because they were curious. Normal people are not aware of our expectations and have no idea who we are and will not show up on the first day in large numbers without some sort of assurance. That is just how it is."
"Assurance?" Greg said incredulously.
"Assurance from other people.", Harry corrected him. "People who saw the film and said, 'Hey, I saw this movie. You should go see it too.' That kind of reassurance."
Greg looked at Harry for a minute to absorb what he just heard. "So you are betting on word of mouth."
"I am betting on being patient," Harry replied. "It takes time for word of mouth to circulate after a movie like this is released."
Greg took in the confidence with which Harry spoke. His voice was not overly dramatic. It actually made Greg feel more apprehensive than if Harry had panicked.
"Do you believe that the movie will grow?" asked Greg.
Harry smiled. "I believe it will."
Greg felt something odd take place within the room. And for the first time, he felt his stiff muscles begin to relax, even though he had not realised until now that they had been tense.
"Okay," Greg said after some time. "Then I can stop hyperventilating."
"Good," said Harry, "You'll need it for next week."
Greg put his phone back into his pocket and got up. "Fox has already been talking about expanding if the weekend's game goes well."
"It will," Harry replied. "Even just a little bit."
Greg paused before leaving the house. "You seem really calm about this."
Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Ask me again in ten days."
After Greg left, the house felt quieter than it did before.
A little bit later, Anne walked in from the bedroom wearing one of Harry's shirt that reached her mid thigh. Her hair was still down and her eyes looked a little droopy. She sat down on the couch next to Harry and put one of her legs over him and put her foot down on the couch.
"You look smug," she said.
Harry's face broke out with a smirk and he said, "I prefer to think of myself as composed."
"I heard numbers were out," she said, tracing a finger along the collar of his shirt. "Greg looked like he'd just delivered bad news to a terminal patient."
"Greg worries," Harry said. "It's his charm."
Anne tilted her head. "And you don't?"
He looked at her then, really looked at her. "I do," he said honestly. "Just not about this."
She frowned slightly. "How can you be so sure? It's my first Hollywood film. I'm terrified people will hate it."
"But, Anne," Harry responded, placing his hand on her knee, "you put in the time and effort and you showed up to do this and you trusted the process."
"That does not guarantee success," Anne stated.
"Yes, I agree," Harry stated. "However, if you do not believe in yourself and your film, then nothing good will come from it."
She was quiet for a moment, then sighed. "I wish I had your certainty."
"Holding on to confidence is not the same as certainty," Harry said with a hint of arrogance, but with a certainty that was admirable. "I am certain about your talent...and so are audiences."
She could only roll her eyes but otherwise didn't pull away from him.
The teasing turned softer, slower. Harry's fingers slipped beneath the hem of her borrowed shirt, brushing warm skin. Anne leaned in, lips close enough that he could feel her breath.
As he leaned in closer to kiss her, Anne whispered into his ear, "Now you're convincing me, careful."
Harry grinned back at her and said, "I am very good at persuading."
He began to unbutton the shirt slowly, one at a time, enjoying that she watched him button her shirt. As he was about to lean in again to kiss her, he heard his phone vibrate loudly from where it was laying on the table.
They both froze.
Harry was still staring at the screen of his phone as if it had turned against him.
"Please don't tell me it's work," Anne said in a low groan.
Harry looked down at the name on the phone and said, "It's Toni."
"Of course it is," Anne said as she laid back down on the couch.
Harry answered his phone, "Toni?"
Toni said, with no preamble or delay, "You need to come in."
Harry closed his eyes and asked, "Now?"
"Yes."
"Now?"
"Yes."
Harry pressed his fingers to his forehead. "Can it wait?"
"No."
"Can you tell Fox I'm—"
"No."
He pulled the phone away from his ear, stared at it for a second, then put it back. "I'll be there."
"Good," Toni said. "See you in thirty."
The line went dead.
Harry dropped the phone onto the table and leaned back with a long sigh.
Anne laughed softly. "Duty calls."
"Unfortunately," Harry muttered.
He stood, grabbing his jacket. Anne reached up and tugged lightly on his sleeve.
"You'll be back?" she asked.
"Sooner than you expect," he said, kissing her forehead. "Assuming they don't lock me in a conference room."
She smiled wryly. "Go. Save cinema."