Early February, 1996 Wald Pictures Headquarters
The energy in the new studio was finally starting to feel real. It was no longer just a name on a building; it was a functioning company.
"Boss, all pre-production work on our first project is complete," Victor Jones reported. He was crisp, efficient, and had settled into the CEO chair like he was born for it. In the few months since the acquisition, he'd not only calmed the nerves of the existing staff but had already, on his own initiative, acquired and distributed a tiny indie film from a festival, turning a small, respectable profit.
Zane felt a warm glow of satisfaction. He'd picked the right guy.
"The last major piece of the puzzle," Victor continued, "is to cast our two leads. The casting director and I have spent weeks on this. We've narrowed it down to two top candidates for the male lead."
He slid two thick, professional folders onto Zane's desk. "These are their profiles."
"Let's see what we've got," Zane said, leaning forward, the scent of a new hunt in the air. He opened the first file.
[ACTOR: Matt Damon]
The name hit Zane like a jolt. He knew that name. That Matt Damon. Good Will Hunting. The Martian. The face of the goddamn Bourne franchise. He was looking at the file of a future global superstar who just... wasn't one yet.
"Damon," Zane said, a slow smile spreading across his face. "This is a strong choice, Victor. Very strong. What's his status?"
Victor's professional mask tightened, just a fraction. He looked... hesitant. "His agent has been contacted. He's read the script, and he's expressed significant interest."
"And the salary?" For this to work, the budget had to be ironclad.
"He's still a newcomer, so his fee is manageable... $150,000," Victor explained. He paused, and Zane knew the other shoe was about to drop. "But... there's a condition."
"There's always a condition."
Victor took a breath. "He's represented by CAA. They're... demanding a packaging deal."
Zane's smile froze.
"They want to provide their own director," Victor said, his voice grim. "And they're requiring us to cast another one of their clients as the female lead."
A "packaging deal." Zane knew exactly what that was. It was a shakedown. It was the industry's biggest, most powerful agency, a shark that swallowed studios whole, telling him, the new guy, that he didn't get to make his own movie. They would "package" it for him, take a hefty 10% cut of all profits, and he would say "thank you."
Zane slowly, deliberately, placed the folder on his desk. The air in the room dropped ten degrees. He looked at Victor, his voice suddenly dangerously quiet, all the warmth gone.
"So, let me make sure I understand this. The Creative Artists Agency believes that because I want to hire one of their actors... they have the right to take over my entire production? To tell me who directs my film, and who stars in it?"
"That seems to be their position, yes," Victor said.
Zane leaned back in his chair, a cold, hard glint in his eyes that was anything but a smile. He didn't shout. He didn't curse. He just passed judgment.
"Victor."
"Yes, boss?"
"Call his agent. Tell him that Wald Pictures is an independent studio, not a subsidiary of CAA. Tell him his 'offer' is an insult, and that we are no longer interested in Mr. Damon's services." He leaned forward, savoring the last word. "Then... hang up."
A slow, deeply satisfied smile spread across Victor's face. He'd been hoping Zane would say that. "Yes, boss. With pleasure."
After a moment of cold, satisfying silence, Zane's good mood returned. He snatched the second folder. "Who's next?"
[ACTOR: James McAvoy]
Zane frowned. "Never heard of him."
He looked at the headshot. The kid was... well, a kid. Born in 1979. He had one, tiny, forgettable credit to his name. But there was something in his eyes. A raw, piercing intelligence. An intensity that didn't belong on a seventeen-year-old's face.
"He looks... familiar," Zane mused, racking his brain. He was certain he'd never seen him in anything. It wasn't a memory, it was a feeling. And then, in a flash of inspiration, it clicked. The blue eyes. The sharp, intelligent brow.
Oh. Holy shit.
It was Professor X. A young, unknown Charles Xavier from the X-Men films.
"He's a rookie, boss, no question," Victor said, giving his own analysis. "His acting skills are... raw. But he has a talent that just leaps off the screen. It fits the role's intensity perfectly. And," he added, playing his trump card, "his salary demands are minimal. We can likely sign him for $50,000."
Fifty thousand dollars for a future star.
No. Fifty thousand dollars for freedom.
No strings. No packaging deals. No agency leeches demanding creative control and a cut of his profits.
It was a choice between a slightly more established name who came with a leash, and a hungry, unknown talent who came with total independence.
For Zane, it wasn't a choice at all.
"He's the one," Zane said, closing the folder. The decision was made. "Offer him $40,000. Not a penny more." He couldn't help himself. He was a capitalist, after all, and the first price was never the real price. "Get the contract signed by the end of the week."
"And Victor," he added, a new fire in his eyes. "Start interviewing directors. I want someone young. Someone hungry. And someone with a unique, terrifying vision. We're not just making a horror movie. We're making a statement."
February 7, 1996.
On a soundstage rented from the Warner Bros. lot, the newly assembled cast and crew of Wald Pictures' first feature film gathered. The air smelled of fresh-cut wood, new paint, and nervous energy.
Zane stood before them, not as a director, but as the architect. The man who had willed this all into existence. He looked at the young, determined faces of his actors—James McAvoy, looking a little stunned and out of his depth, and a fiercely prepared Charlize Theron, who had walked into her audition and simply taken the role, leaving everyone else in the dust. He looked at the hungry, innovative director he had personally selected.
He had his team. He had his script. He had his studio.
He clapped his hands once, the sharp sound echoing in the large, quiet space.
"Alright, everyone," Zane said, a confident, predatory smile on his face. "Let's go make a monster."
===============================
100 Power Stone = 1 Bonus Chapter
Send me some powerstone.
https://www.patreon.com/c/kapa69
In it you will get all my fanfics.
Want to read 105+ chapters ahead? Support me on Patreon! And here by donating powerstone
for every 100 power stone I will drop a bonus chapter.