Jonathan Friedman trudged back to his office.
Pushing open the door, he saw Simon rise and turn toward him. Mustering some energy, he nodded at the other and circled back to sit behind his desk before looking across at the boy again.
Simon picked up on the strong aura of defeat around his agent, and the apologetic look in his eyes. He abandoned his initial plan to confront him, asking instead with concern, "Joe, did something happen?"
Jonathan's lips moved, feeling the weight of Simon's clear gaze. After hesitating, he said, "Simon, it's like this: Matthew isn't keen on working with you, so Mr. Brokaw wants you to fully withdraw from The Butterfly Effect project going forward."
Simon's expression barely changed. Calmly, he pressed, "So, Joe, what's your take?"
Jonathan averted his eyes slightly from Simon's, softening his tone. "Simon, this time, I hope you'll agree. But I promise you, if opportunities arise later, I'll make it up to you as much as I can. Oh, right—you're planning that experimental film, aren't you? If you need anything, just tell me. If money's short, I can even loan you some personally."
Hearing his agent say this, Simon's initially tense body gradually relaxed. He set the script he'd been holding onto the desk in front of him, looking earnestly at his agent. "Joe, you know how bad this contract is. So, can you tell me what really happened?"
Jonathan eyed the contract Simon had pushed toward him but ultimately didn't reach for it.
After a moment of silence, he finally spoke. "Simon, I mentioned this before, right? I wanted to turn this into a packaged project."
Simon nodded but stayed quiet.
Jonathan paused briefly, glancing at Simon, then continued, "From our interactions these past weeks, I think you're clued in on a lot of what's going on in Hollywood right now. CAA's packaging strategy has threatened our standing in the industry. Lately, a bunch of WMA's top stars jumped ship to CAA because of it. So, to stop being on the back foot, WMA plans to mimic CAA's model. Your The Butterfly Effect just happened to be our first packaged pitch."
Simon quickly pieced together everything he'd just experienced with clues from recent days, smiling bitterly as he added, "And it didn't go well, huh?"
Though reluctant to admit it, Jonathan nodded. "CAA's packaging not only drives up studio budgets but strips away a big chunk of power that used to belong to the production companies. WMA's still several times bigger than CAA—if we start pushing packaging too, the studios' leverage against agencies will shrink even more. So the majors colluded to tank the project."
Simon stared at the draft contract with Fox still in front of him but didn't ask how that came about.
Hollywood's big studios often aligned on shared interests, but at their core, they were competitors. Besides, looking at the contract's stingy terms, Simon didn't think Fox had been all that generous in agreeing to take on WMA's package.
His thoughts racing, recalling Norman Brokaw's recent appearance, Simon looked up at his agent again, probing with a touch of certainty, "Joe, I suddenly get the feeling Mr. Brokaw doesn't want this project to succeed too much either, does he?"
With WMA's resources still dwarfing CAA's, if the agency dug in and forced the issue, the studios would ultimately cave.
After all, CAA had already rolled out packaging successfully. Even if the majors hated it, under WMA's pressure, accepting it wouldn't be that hard.
But from the downright miserly contract, it was clear WMA had been the one to compromise—and at the expense of clients like him.
Jonathan visibly startled at Simon's words; he hadn't expected the kid's intuition to be so sharp.
But moments later, a wry smile crossed Jonathan's face, and he gave a slight nod. Of course, he didn't explain further to Simon. Having the company's internal power struggles seen through by an eighteen-year-old wasn't exactly flattering.
Seeing Jonathan confirm it, Simon thought of the gloom that had hung over his agent since they met today. After a pause, he said, "Joe, if everyone's against this project succeeding, do you think it even needs to go on? From this contract, Brian and the others are probably getting shortchanged too."
"Simon, you don't get it," Jonathan shook his head. Unconsciously, he'd stopped treating Simon like a fresh eighteen-year-old, explaining patiently, "Like I said, The Butterfly Effect became WMA's first package. A lot of eyes in Hollywood are on it. If the debut flops, pushing this model again will be way harder. So even if it's not a win, Norman and the rest won't let it crash completely. Otherwise..."
Jonathan trailed off there. After a beat, gazing at the vibrant young man across from him, he shifted gears abruptly, his tone carrying a hint of world-weariness. "Simon, you know? I joined WMA at nineteen; I'm forty-six now. Twenty-seven years to get here. It wasn't easy."
Actually, Jonathan hadn't mentioned that though he'd made VP, he still lacked any real authority— the WMA board had been debating that lately.
The idea to package The Butterfly Effect was partly to gain leverage in those assignments.
But he hadn't anticipated it would trap him in a no-win bind.
Making it work was impossible now.
If it bombed, even if they didn't yank his VP title, he'd likely get sidelined with just an empty role. He wasn't even sure the old power players at the company wouldn't boot him out entirely.
So from yesterday afternoon till now, Jonathan had more than once felt the urge to ditch the project altogether. But he'd held back, even bending to appease his boss Norman Brokaw's demands.
Simon met Jonathan's gaze, seeking understanding, and nodded sincerely. "Joe, I actually get it."
Simon truly could empathize with Jonathan's struggle.
As Hollywood's oldest agency, nearly a century old, WMA's structure had long ossified, with promotions strictly by seniority—and glacially slow.
The three WMA leaders who'd passed earlier this year were all in their seventies or eighties. Like ancient emperors, they clung to power till death.
In such a firm, climbing high was brutally tough, even with talent and connections.
That's why Michael Ovitz and others, seeing no path up, had split to form their own shop back then.
But not everyone had that kind of guts.
And without luck in innovating packaging, the old CAA might've faded into obscurity like so many challengers to WMA over the century.
In his past life, Simon had climbed from the bottom to director too.
So he deeply understood how individuals in cutthroat companies or industries felt powerless and trapped by the rules.
Onlookers always wondered why insiders didn't fight injustice, why they bent over backward—or why not just bail from the scene?
Naively, they didn't grasp how challenging the rules without enough clout could doom someone forever.
Feeling Simon's empathetic gaze, some of Jonathan's pent-up frustration eased.
But eyeing the contract on the desk, he sighed inwardly again, yet had to press on. "So, Simon, about this contract?"
Simon weighed it for a moment, not answering directly. Instead, he looked earnestly at his agent. "Joe, ignoring everything else, do you still want this project to proceed deep down?"
Jonathan's eyes flickered, catching on. After a slight hesitation, he admitted, "No. Honestly, I wish I'd never thought of packaging this script."
"Then it's simple to fix," Simon said, leaning back relaxed, shaking his head with firm, deliberate words. "So, I disagree."
Jonathan instantly grasped Simon's intent.
The Butterfly Effect script was still Simon's—if the kid rejected the contract, the project couldn't proceed no matter what.
And if Simon outright refused, tanking it, then with smart handling, Jonathan could shift much of the blame for the failure onto him, weathering the fallout.
In a flash, Jonathan even brainstormed excuses.
A stubborn greenhorn—what could I do?
But Simon doing this would invite heavy pressure. After all, Hollywood's top agency could crush a newbie writer effortlessly.
Instinctively, Jonathan didn't want this talented young man in that mess.
Thinking so, he rose from his chair, urgently advising the boy across from him, "Simon, you'd better not. Really—for your own sake."
But Simon shook his head firmly again, standing too. "Joe, I know it wasn't easy getting here. But I have my own principles. You know, a person can't go without them. So this is all I can do to help. Tell those people: I disagree. Then it's over."
With that, Simon nodded at Jonathan again and headed for the office door.
Pulling it open, he paused, turning back to the still-stunned agent. "And, Joe, if possible, I'd like to terminate our agency contract in the next few days. You probably won't mind waiving the breach fee, right? Of course, if not, I'll find another way."
Watching Simon leave, Jonathan stood silently for a long time, his mind replaying the kid's words.
A person can't go without their principles.
These years.
All these years.
How much principle remained in the once-hopeful young man he'd been?
And was what he clung to worth it?
Sitting back down, Jonathan braced his hands on the desk, feeling a long-forgotten tremor through his body—mingled fear of the future and fearless resolve. Like scorching flames, it burned away all the defeat and gloom pent up since yesterday afternoon.
Finally exhaling deeply, Jonathan Friedman picked up the receiver, dialed Norman Brokaw's extension, and said straight out, "Norman, I've thought it over. Let's end the The Butterfly Effect project here—I can't treat my clients like that."
He hung up without waiting for a response.
Ignoring the phone that immediately rang again, Jonathan opened the safe by his feet, gathered his vital broker essentials—address book, memos, and other files—stuffed them into his briefcase, and hurried out of WMA headquarters.
This wasn't him quitting WMA outright.
No matter what, if he could stay, he would. After all, he'd built networks here over twenty-plus years.
But having made that call, Jonathan prepared for the worst.
Though only the board could demote him, he wouldn't risk assuming Norman Brokaw wouldn't flip out.
But with those briefcase items out and backed up, even in the direst scenario of getting booted, he could poach plenty with him.
With his client roster built over years, CAA or ICM wouldn't turn him away—or he could even start his own agency.