Cassius and Rob had barely stepped into the ballroom when every pair of eyes in the place swung their way.
Curiosity. Admiration. A few flashes of straight-up envy.
Cassius kept it simple—black suit, no tie. Level-4 Aura running at full blast made the attention feel like nothing. He walked through it like he owned the room.
"Cass! Our hero!"
Director Martin was the first one over, face glowing, champagne in one hand. He pulled Cassius into a bear hug with the other.
"Look at this place, kid. All because of you. Every time I see you I'm right back on that set."
A blue orb floated up from him:
[Director's Narrative Rhythm Boost +5]
Cassius absorbed it on the spot. His feel for the whole movie's pacing sharpened another notch.
Wrap parties dropped orbs like crazy. Hell yes.
Next came Greg Silverman, moving fast, smile way more genuine than the last time they'd met. His handshake had real weight behind it.
"Cass, you crushed it. Numbers are in—seven hundred million? That opening is insane!"
Keira showed up in a sleek black dress. She spotted him, walked over, and clinked her glass lightly against his.
"Congratulations, partner. The movie earned every bit of what you put in."
Her favorability sat steady at 91.
Still rock-solid even after all this time apart. That actually surprised him. Guess the ice-queen thing was mostly surface.
A small orb drifted from her:
[British Accent Line-Emotion Micro-Tuning +4]
He took it. New little insights on how to shade English dialogue with those tiny emotional shifts clicked into place.
Gina just straight-up punched him in the shoulder.
"Look at you, big shot! Next time we work together my rate's going up—thanks to you, asshole."
A blue orb popped off her:
[Blunt Personality +3]
Cassius absorbed it and immediately felt a little smoother dealing with straight-talkers.
Rob buzzed around the room like a hyper butterfly, running interference on the small talk while whispering quick intel in Cassius's ear about who was who.
Cassius nursed a plain soda. No alcohol tonight. Every single time he'd gotten hammered something chaotic happened. Not happening.
A year ago, before Green Lantern, he probably couldn't have even gotten into a room like this. Now? He could drink water and people still lined up to toast him.
He drifted through the crowd, eyes scanning. Warner execs, veteran producers, directors and actors sniffing around for heat—everyone here could drop something useful.
He drifted toward a sharply dressed woman chatting with Silverman. Rob leaned in.
"That's Kathleen Kennedy—brand-new president of Lucasfilm, top-tier producer. Warner's treating her like royalty tonight."
Kathleen Kennedy. The woman behind E.T., the Jurassic Park series, the new Star Wars films, The Iron Giant, and Ponyo with Miyazaki. Oscar-nominated legend.
Cassius introduced himself, told her how much he loved her work. She smiled—warm, professional.
A blue orb floated up:
[Top Producer's Project-Risk Instinct +8]
He absorbed it. The experience split evenly between Eyes and Rhythm. A hazy but powerful gut sense for spotting a movie's commercial upside, hidden landmines, and perfect resource fit flooded his brain. Abstract as hell, but gold.
Next he "bumped into" Warner's chief marketing officer. They talked about how the late Green Lantern word-of-mouth campaign had flipped the narrative. The guy went deep on the strategy.
A purple orb dropped:
[Crisis-PR Narrative Flip Core +9]
Split between Rhythm and Aura. Cassius suddenly understood the mechanics of steering media stories and shaping public emotion on a whole new level.
He kept moving, quietly farming. These non-actor industry vets dropped higher-quality orbs—multi-attribute, layered stuff. Lines precision, body-language power, expression depth… every stat bar crept upward. Not enough for another level-up yet, but the foundation was getting rock-solid.
Halfway through the party Rob steered him toward a well-preserved woman in her fifties.
Cassius shot Rob a look: I'm not here to sell my body!
Rob caught the glare, went full black-screen, and jumped in fast.
"Cass, this is Vivian Ross—senior VP of Artist Relations and Special Projects at Warner. She handles top-tier talent PR, contracts, scandals… all of it."
Ah. The fixer. The one who made sure when a star's life exploded, the mess stayed out of the tabloids.
Vivian smiled, shook his hand. Her grip had real power.
"I've studied every public interview and press report on you, Cass. Your instinct for media and public mood is way beyond your age."
She gave a little wink. "Ever think about doing PR?"
The double meaning hit like a truck. Cassius actually shivered.
Is she… hitting on me? Or is this just Hollywood speak?
She didn't push. Instead she smoothly pivoted into career advice—spotting risks in his current public image and areas he could strengthen. The woman knew her stuff.
Cassius finally escaped to the balcony for some air, leaning on the railing.
A calm voice spoke beside him.
"Mr. Cassius—congratulations on the huge success."
He turned. White guy, fifties, glasses, dark casual suit. Face looked familiar but Cassius couldn't place it.
Definitely not here just to say nice things.
Not another one…
Cassius clinked glasses. "Thanks. Sorry—your name?"
"Gary Ross."
The guy smiled. "Director and writer. You might've seen Pleasantville or Seabiscuit?"
Oh shit. Gary Ross. The guy who'd go on to direct The Hunger Games.
Cassius shook his hand. "Mr. Ross, big fan. Loved Seabiscuit."
"Call me Gary." He studied Cassius for a beat. "I've been hearing a lot about you tonight—great actor, can fight, audience loves you. But I'm more curious about something else."
He leaned in. "I read every single interview and press piece from your Green Lantern campaign. You have this… almost unnatural nose for story itself."
"I heard you did heavy rewrites on the script. The universal themes, the emotional core—that's rare. You seem to have real ideas about material."
Cassius blinked. Nobody had really asked him about writing since the movie wrapped.
Gary didn't wait for an answer. "I saw your early extra footage. Night-and-day difference from what you're doing now. That kind of leap takes more than hard work. I'm a writer first—I can smell it when someone gets character on a bone-deep level."
A purple orb dropped from him:
[Keen Insight into Character Core +9]
High quality. Cassius absorbed it instantly. A clean, sharp understanding of how to grab a role's soul and map its behavior logic flooded in. Emotion and Rhythm both ticked up.
"I'm developing a new project," Gary said. "Wonder if you'd be interested. The Hunger Games—based on Suzanne Collins' bestseller. I'm sure you've heard of it."
Cassius's pulse jumped. The Hunger Games. One of the biggest YA franchises coming down the pike.
"Heard of it? The premise is killer."
Gary's eyes lit up. "Brutal survival game on the surface, but the heart is rebellion, hope, humanity. We're casting right now—especially Peeta Mellark. Any interest?"
He studied Cassius again. "I watched your dramatic scenes in Green Lantern, especially the ones opposite Keira Knightley. The way you layered the inner conflict was impressive. A lot of young actors just do 'brooding' or 'angry.' You actually felt it."
Another blue orb:
[Precise Character-Core Summation +5]
Cassius took it. Script analysis suddenly felt sharper.
"I love the book," he said honestly. "Peeta's a great role. I'd be honored to audition."
Gary looked relieved. "I saw the global box-office reports. Asia—especially China—loves you. Suzanne herself suggested you. She thinks your look and quiet intensity fit Peeta in the arena perfectly. And your fight scenes in Green Lantern? Real, fluid—exactly what we need."
A purple orb:
[Balancing Commercial Potential and Artistic Vision +7]
Cassius absorbed it. He suddenly got the "gotta have both" dance Hollywood producers did on every project.
"That's high praise—Suzanne's too kind."
"Not at all," Gary said seriously. "I cast with my writer brain. Technique matters, but understanding the soul of the story matters more. You have that. Peeta needs it."
They chatted a few more minutes before Gary excused himself—he had other people to see.
Cassius stayed on the balcony, cool night air on his face.
His phone buzzed. Rob: Heard Gary Ross found you. The Hunger Games. His assistant just called me! Bro, you're about to take off!
Cassius typed back: Audition locked in. Materials coming your way.
Rob's reply was pure caps: WOOOOOO!
Cassius smiled, slipped the phone away, and headed back inside.
Later that night he pulled up to Kristen's Beverly Hills place. The second he walked in he saw her on the couch, suitcase parked beside her.
"Kristen? You're back?"
She was supposed to still be in Europe shooting that magazine spread.
Her eyes were a little red. "You're moving out?"
"Yeah—I bought Jackie's old house. You wanna come with me?"
Kristen blinked, clearly thrown. That was not the script she'd been expecting.
Cassius reached into his pocket and pulled out a shiny key on a simple leather fob.
He pressed it into her palm.
"Key to the new place. Move in with me?"
Kristen stared at the cool metal against her skin. All the paranoid thoughts she'd been carrying on the flight home slammed into a wall.
Cassius kept his face calm, but inside he was grinning. He'd planned this.
He poured them both water, set hers on the coffee table, and sat down.
He knew his own flaws. He wasn't pretending to be a saint. But he also knew what worked for them right now. They were both busy as hell; constant togetherness would've burned them out. Living close but with their own space? Perfect.
Kristen finally let out a soft huff and leaned back into the couch, shoulders relaxing.
"The house any good? Jackie lived there forever—feng shui's gotta be solid, right?"
"Big. Garden's beautiful."
Moving in deserved a proper housewarming. Cassius fired off a text to Rob: New place is ready. Small housewarming this weekend. Invite some friends. I'll handle food, you handle drinks. Keep it chill, not flashy.
Rob answered instantly: Finally! I got the drinks—classy but not stuffy.
Cassius started the guest list.
Kristen—obviously.
Dakota and her little sister Elle.
Gina.
Keira.
Kat.
Even Li Suyan, his old fake roommate.
All women.
He paused. Damn. He'd been grinding in Hollywood this long and every close friend was female… three of whom he'd slept with.
He quickly added Rob and two other married guys from the crew. Three dudes total. Two with wives. Safe.
He hit send.
Kristen glanced over, saw the list, and raised an eyebrow.
"Trying to keep the guest list from turning into a rom-com?" she teased.
Cassius laughed and pulled her close. "Just making sure nobody gets the wrong idea. I'm not here to sell my body—I'm here to build something real."
She smirked, kissed him slow, and whispered against his lips, "Good. Because this key means you're stuck with me now."
Outside, the Beverly Hills lights glittered. Inside, for the first time in a long time, everything felt like it was clicking exactly right.