Run Lola Run had turned misfortune into fortune, and in many eyes, it was already the 1987 North American box office champion.
However.
Simon found himself increasingly resembling a pauper.
Lately, renting the mansion, hiring Pat Kingsley, signing Amy Pascal, maintaining Daenerys Films, and even the various costs of handling the media storm—all required hefty spending.
Now, not just Simon's own pockets, but even Janet's little purse was bone-dry. The over $50,000 saved from shooting Run Lola Run had long been depleted in assorted expenses.
On the other hand, though millions in earnings were expected, Run Lola Run's North American box office share wouldn't settle until after it left theaters, and the remaining distribution rights he still held were uncertain when they'd cash in.
Thus.
Simon was still saddled with a pile of bills.
The mansion rent was owed, Kingsley's commission was owed, Amy's base salary was owed—even the money for Amy to hire her own assistant upon starting had come from her pocket, and the woman had griped fiercely at Simon for it.
Now, getting some cash fast was practically urgent for Simon.
In truth, last month Simon had already instructed Janet to take Daenerys Films' distribution deal with Orion for Run Lola Run to the bank for collateral assessment.
But compared to the $100,000 loan from Wells Fargo on the The Butterfly Effect script, this time Simon sought tens of millions—naturally, it couldn't happen overnight.
Just the initial reviews of materials took a full month; then came the media storm, and several banks, wary of the risks, outright rejected his loan application.
In the end, Wells Fargo remained.
Los Angeles.
In the cliffside mansion in Palisades.
After assessment, Wells Fargo ultimately offered only a $20 million loan limit—$10 million below Simon and Janet's expected contract shares.
But $20 million was absolutely no small sum.
Due to the huge loan amount, Wells Fargo sent a senior VP named Paul Olsen to personally handle the key client interview process with Simon and Janet.
Paul Olsen was around forty, with brown hair and a square face, exuding a scholarly air. Though privately quite talkative, once work started, he became meticulous, even a bit rigid.
At that moment.
In the mansion's study, the three sat on the guest sofas.
Paul Olsen held a folder, methodically questioning through the routine checklist. Then, shifting gears, he fixed his gaze on Simon and Janet, repeating, "Mr. Westeros, Miss Johnston, I must ask you both to confirm again: The loan you're applying for is solely for personal consumption and absolutely will not be used for film investments or other prohibited activities, correct?"
For the third time.
Simon mentally noted it but nodded without hesitation. "Yes."
Janet echoed solemnly too.
"Then I need to reiterate, Mr. Westeros, Miss Johnston: We'll periodically track your loan usage. If we discover any diversion of these funds into prohibited activities like film investments, Wells Fargo reserves the right to recall the loan early. Moreover, your credit records will be severely impacted."
Simon and Janet wore somewhat stiff smiles, nodding mechanically again.
"Very well," Paul Olsen finally closed his folder, smiling as he stood. "Pleasure meeting you both. Here's to a successful collaboration."
Simon and Janet relaxed at last, hurrying to stand and shake hands with Paul Olsen.
After seeing Paul Olsen off, Simon returned to the villa living room, flopping horizontally onto the sofa in exhaustion. Janet, looking equally drained, sidled over and draped her soft body fully over him.
Simon wrapped his arms around her waist, staring at the ceiling, and sighed. "Finally scammed the money."
Janet murmured weakly, "Yeah."
Simon intended to use this cash advance ultimately for futures trading in the second half of the year—but that couldn't be said.
Anyone with sense knew banks wouldn't lend to those with such aims, even with collateral.
But a $20 million loan application needed a legitimate purpose.
After some consultation, they'd filled "personal consumption" in the loan purpose field, with a one-year repayment term.
Many Hollywood stars often sought massive loans from banks for consumption.
Since personal spending usually involved buying mansions, luxury cars, and other assets, if borrowers defaulted, banks could seize those to recoup losses. Thus, it was a very valid borrowing reason.
But their application still raised Wells Fargo's suspicions.
Mainly due to the size.
Even if Simon and Janet were extravagant, $20 million wasn't pocket change to blow easily.
They'd even concocted a story about wanting a private jet, but it still didn't fully convince Wells Fargo.
Private jets could be financed; tycoons usually did so and didn't need that much cash.
Given Simon's identity, Wells Fargo easily suspected he might use it for film investments.
Film investing's risks rivaled stocks and futures.
Typically, banks wouldn't approve such loans.
Of course, not absolutely.
When Orion formed, Mike Medavoy and crew got a $200 million credit line straight from a New York bank.
But with just one successful box office hit, Simon clearly couldn't match Orion's treatment back then. Hence Paul Olsen's repeated reminders—or warnings—to Simon.
If Wells Fargo knew Simon's true intent, perhaps today's talk wouldn't have happened.
Anyway.
Couldn't worry about that now.
With a deep, relaxing breath, realizing the money wouldn't arrive until next week at earliest, Simon still fretted. He tightened his hold on Janet. "Babe, still no cash now—how about we cut back, eat just two meals a day?"
Janet nuzzled her cheek against his chest. "I'd get hungry—three for me, one for you."
Simon nodded. "Mm, I get it."
"What?"
"You're a meal too—that makes two."
"Mm-hmm, or I could call Kate over."
"Hm?"
"She's a meal too—that'd make three again."
"What a federal good girlfriend—come, kiss me."
"Pfft, little rascal."
After some playful banter, they quieted again.
Simon began mentally reviewing recent events once more, most curious about the source of ABC's videotape.
Recalling that day carefully, Simon still couldn't remember who'd recorded that segment.
And after several calls, plus a special trip to ABC headquarters in New York to inquire, he'd gotten no answers—ABC said the provider demanded source confidentiality, for unknown reasons.
Today was March 24th, a Tuesday.
The storm had passed.
Yesterday, Simon had finally signed the Final Destination contract with Fox.
Fox's budget funding for the film wouldn't arrive until next week either—and not all at once. Of the $8 million total, the first tranche was just $500,000, for pre-production like casting and location scouting.
Additionally, Orion had started discussing Simon's next film, which needed to get underway soon too.
Those two projects were set.
But the last in Simon's plans—Nora Ephron's When Harry Met Sally—still hung in limbo.
In fact, Simon hadn't fully secured that script yet.
Though due to the flop of her prior Heartburn, plus When Harry Met Sally's quirky structure, no studios were interested yet. But in initial contacts, Nora Ephron insisted that if Daenerys wanted the script, they'd need a viable production plan.
Clearly, Nora Ephron worried Daenerys was just a shell, lacking production capacity but aiming to hoard her script.
Script hoarding was rampant in Hollywood; studios often bought exclusive rights for years. If production started within the term, pay the writer further fees; if not by expiration, rights reverted to the writer.
When Harry Met Sally's box office was the most assured of Simon's three planned films; his original thought was, if no investor bit, he'd fund it himself.
But now.
To release it next summer, the project needed to start immediately.
Thus, all issues looped back to one starting point.
Money!
No cash, nothing gets done.
And after estimates, When Harry Met Sally's budget might be the highest of the three—possibly up to $15 million.
Fairly speaking, Simon really didn't want to self-fund this one.
Though Run Lola Run's expected earnings were substantial, he preferred investing that money in higher-growth potentials.
After mulling a while, Simon patted Janet. "Get up— I'll go dinner with Medavoy later, you coming?"
Janet hummed softly, nodding.
Since Run Lola Run's North American box office potential was set, its other channel distributions needed addressing. Having signed Orion for North American theatrical, they naturally had priority on the rest.
Simon's plan was to sell off all remaining rights outright for quick cash—to fund second-half futures trading and other investments.
But with Run Lola Run's North American scale, its overseas rights, video rights, and future TV rights profits were at least double the theatrical.
Simon didn't know Orion's subsequent deals with other theaters, but even averaging 50-50 splits, Run Lola Run would bring Orion and Daenerys a combined $100 million share.
Relative to the film's negligible production and marketing costs, that $100 million was nearly pure profit.
By that benchmark, the remaining channels' profits were at least $200 million.
Per North American profit rules, for Run Lola Run's other channels, Simon could demand a $60 million outright buyout.
$60 million was a fortune even for the Big Seven—let alone Orion, who couldn't swallow it.
Thus, for quick outright sales of the rest, Simon would have to sell piecemeal.
But per contract limits, he'd need Orion's consent first.