With Simon's words, the hospital room fell into a brief silence once more.
Simon's implication was crystal clear: he'd demanded the $500,000 compensation just to probe whether there was some mastermind behind the incident—someone he might have already roughly identified.
And then, perhaps driven by certain factors, or maybe because the guy who'd been scared witless last night wanted to wrap things up quickly, Simon had smoothly obtained that $500,000 check.
But he clearly didn't care about the money.
He even despised it.
All he wanted was an eye for an eye.
Katherine didn't know the old saying about how some people remain strangers even after a lifetime together, while others become friends at first meeting. But from their very first encounter, Simon had given her a sense of déjà vu, and in every interaction since, he'd always left the deepest impression on her.
Over this time, though they'd only met occasionally or talked on the phone now and then, Katherine had unconsciously come to see Simon as one of her closest friends.
Now, hearing him say this, a surge of intense worry welled up in her heart.
The bruises covering Simon's body from last night made her not care one bit about whoever he wanted to go after next—even if he broke their other leg, it wouldn't be too much.
But she didn't want Simon to get tangled in any further trouble because of it.
Anyone who could casually cough up a $500,000 check was no nobody. Breaking that person's leg would make it incredibly hard for Simon to walk away unscathed.
And deep down, Katherine was vaguely concerned about Simon's mental state.
Janet's eccentricity, at its core, was just the spoiled temperament of a girl raised in luxury.
But Katherine clearly remembered that on their first meeting, Simon had indeed boarded the bus from Watsonville.
And he'd said he came from the Watsonville Mental Hospital.
Most people would brush off that comment as a joke, but Katherine didn't think so at all.
Then, as a complete newcomer with no credentials, he'd managed to convince Jonathan Friedman to sign him on as his sole screenwriter client. When she'd introduced him, she'd honestly just hoped that Jonathan, as WMA's vice president, could hook him up with a regular agent. Getting signed to WMA at all was a rare opportunity for most.
Right after that, she'd seen him play that stunning rendition of "Flight of the Bumblebee" on Venice Beach.
Soon followed his first contract with a studio—for $200,000. Sure, there'd been some behind-the-scenes maneuvering not meant for outsiders, but for an 18-year-old kid, it was enough to turn heads no matter what.
And finally, even last night's incident with those five broken legs.
The baseball bat had struck him too, but it hadn't done much damage—yet he'd shattered those guys' leg bones. That wasn't something an ordinary person could pull off.
All of it, every bit, confirmed one thing for Katherine: Simon was a genius.
Yet.
The line between genius and madness had always been razor-thin.
With that thought, Katherine unconsciously took hold of one of Simon's hands, gazing earnestly at the young man on the bed as she said softly, "Simon, promise me you'll let this go, okay? End it here."
Simon had never been one to forgive easily.
But now, feeling the slight coolness of Katherine's palm, he found the intense rage that had been brewing in his heart since last night melting away like snow.
After a moment of silence, under Katherine's expectant gaze, Simon gave a slight nod. "All right, Katherine. I'll do as you say."
Hearing this, the tense atmosphere in the room finally eased.
Janet, standing at the foot of the bed, snapped out of the memory of Simon's utterly emotionless, cold stare from moments ago. Noticing the two still holding hands, she blinked, suddenly itching to step forward, pull Katherine's hand away, and replace it with her own.
George Norman, who'd been quietly observing from the sidelines, reflected on the scene that had just unfolded and the current situation before him. Suddenly, he thought his niece would probably be thrilled to hear about this outcome.
For some reason, Jennifer—who'd eagerly joined him this morning to handle the case—had been in a foul mood all morning after hearing the boy demand $500,000. She'd stayed silent when he asked what was wrong.
"Well then, everyone," George Norman said proactively, seeing that everything had settled. "If that's the case, I think it's time for me to go."
Hearing George Norman speak, Katherine realized she'd been holding the boy's hand a bit too long. She let go casually, not daring to glance back at Simon on the bed, and stood up. "Mr. Norman, I'll walk you out."
George Norman nodded, then pulled a business card from his suit pocket and handed it formally to Simon on the bed. "Mr. Westeros, here's my card. If you ever need anything, feel free to call me anytime."
Simon took the card and nodded. "I will, Mr. Norman. Also, I don't have a fixed address yet, so you can send today's bill to Katherine—she'll pass it on to me."
Though Simon had dropped the pursuit at Katherine's urging, the incident didn't fade away quietly.
In this industry, Hollywood had never been good at keeping secrets.
Over the next few days, rumors about how a top male star's close friends had their legs shattered spread like wildfire through Hollywood, with all sorts of stories bubbling up around it.
As one of the parties involved, Simon—this newcomer screenwriter just stepping into Hollywood—found himself back in the spotlight for many.
Simon wasn't aware of how the industry was buzzing about him, but during his short hospital stay, most of the people he'd met since arriving in Los Angeles came to visit, including David Giler, the producer on *The Butterfly Effect*, who squeezed in a quick stop amid his busy schedule.
Plus, the five young men whose legs Simon had broken became the focus of plenty of attention.
Everyone knew those five were Matthew Broderick's cronies. Tying it to recent events, it wasn't hard for people to piece together the truth.
Jonathan Friedman, during his visit to Simon, specifically brought it up.
Apparently, Norman Brokaw had issued a not-quite-official gag order, but it did nothing to stop the speculation from spreading. And in his words, the agent subtly urged Simon not to push things further.
Having already made his decision, Simon naturally wouldn't go back on it.
Though the doctor wanted Simon to stay for observation at least a week, he'd only been admitted Tuesday night and checked out hastily by the weekend.
The new week held the first production meeting for *The Butterfly Effect*, which involved script revisions, and when David Giler visited, Simon had insisted they not reschedule for him—he'd be there on time.