Barry Weiss frowned slightly after hearing Lisa's explanation and asked, "Who performed the check-up on Britney?"
"Dr. Scott."
"I'll go talk to him myself."
Lisa was puzzled but watched as Barry Weiss hurried off.
Weiss arrived at the nearby medical office and found a middle-aged doctor tidying up his desk, preparing to leave for the day. After dismissing the others in the room, Weiss asked, "Ryan, did you perform the check-up on Britney?"
Seeing Weiss, Dr. Ryan Scott adopted a cautious expression and sat back down. "I was actually planning to talk to you tomorrow, Barry. I think the girl might… well, perhaps you should consider a drug test for her."
The music industry in the U.S. was even more chaotic than Hollywood, and Weiss, as a veteran, had seen it all. After observing Britney earlier, he had already formed a suspicion. Hearing the doctor's words, he was almost certain.
However, after a moment's thought, Weiss felt a chill run down his spine.
This was something he absolutely shouldn't dig into.
In fact, he needed to pretend he knew nothing.
The situation was easy to piece together.
Britney Spears had recently become Simon's new favorite, and powerful men, after experiencing countless beauties, often sought new ways to entertain themselves.
Convinced he had figured it out, Weiss adopted a serious expression and said to the doctor, "Ryan, I'll only remind you once. If you don't want to lose your job—or worse—you'd better pretend you know nothing about this."
The doctor nodded. "Of course, Barry. That's why I only planned to mention it to you quietly."
Satisfied, Weiss left the medical office and returned to the training room, where he happened to see Britney's mother, Lynne Spears, picking up her daughter.
Worried that the family might cause trouble if they noticed Britney's condition, Weiss stopped Lynne and mentioned Britney's unusual behavior. Lynne immediately shook her head nervously. "It's nothing, Mr. Weiss. Britney's fine. She's just been a bit tired lately."
Weiss was surprised by her quick response, assuming she had already been briefed. He didn't press further and instead suggested, "In that case, since tomorrow's Friday, why don't you let Britney rest for a few days? She can come back on Monday."
Lynne agreed repeatedly, then, as if fearing pursuit, quickly ushered her daughter out.
The mother and daughter arrived at the parking lot, and Lynne helped her lethargic daughter into the back seat. After struggling to insert the car key due to her trembling hands, Lynne started the engine but didn't drive off immediately. Instead, she sat frozen, gripping the steering wheel, and suddenly burst into tears.
She couldn't shake the feeling that her husband's recent obsession might bring disaster to their family.
Simon Westeros was nothing like Michael Jackson.
Driving home in a daze, Lynne sent Britney to rest and then went to the couple's bedroom.
Though it was still bright outside, the room was dimly lit with heavy curtains drawn. Her husband, Jamie, was hunched over a computer he had recently set up, working on something.
The children had long wanted a computer at home, but Jamie, who didn't understand technology, had always refused to spend the money.
Now, however, he had quickly learned to use audio editing software, splicing together clips of Britney's drugged ramblings.
Sitting quietly on the bed behind her husband, Lynne stared at him for a while before finally speaking. "Jamie, I think… at the very least, we should consult a lawyer?"
Startled by her voice, Jamie cursed and turned to glare at her before returning to his work. "Do you know how expensive lawyers are? If we hire one, they could take millions from the $200 million we're aiming for—enough to buy the best mansion in Beverly Hills."
Lynne hesitated, then asked, "When do you plan to… contact that person?"
"I'm almost done with this. Tomorrow, I'll take Britney to her class and talk to Barry Weiss first. He can reach Simon Westeros."
"But when I picked up Britney today, Barry Weiss noticed something was off and gave her three days off. Maybe you should wait until Monday?"
"That's even better. I'll go see Barry Weiss tomorrow," Jamie said, sensing his wife's hesitation. He turned and glared at her with bloodshot eyes. "If you're scared, we can get a divorce first. Then the $200 million will be all mine."
Lynne was stunned by her husband's words. The immense pressure of targeting such a powerful figure had been building up, and she nearly exploded. But the thought of the $200 million—which seemed increasingly possible—quickly deflated her anger.
If they really got $200 million, it would be worth it.
After a moment of silence, Lynne got up to prepare dinner for the family as the children would be home from school soon.
The next day, October 10th, Friday.
It was the day The Blair Witch Project's second-week box office numbers were released. Early in the morning, people across Los Angeles eagerly flipped through the newspapers.
The results were met with inevitable awe.
In its second week, thanks to its explosive opening, Daenerys Entertainment had expanded The Blair Witch Project's screen count from 2,045 to 3,123.
With the increased screening and the film's growing buzz, The Blair Witch Project's second-week drop was only 17%. After a stunning $59.63 million opening, it added another $49.45 million in its second week. In just two weeks, the ultra-low-budget pseudo-documentary, with a reported cost of only $300,000, had already grossed over $109 million.
Moreover, even with a $10 million drop, The Blair Witch Project's $49.45 million second-week haul set a new October box office record.
The film was unstoppable.
Not only that, but the success of The Blair Witch Project had also boosted sales of Tingke Bair's iRec. Over the past two weeks, shipments of the device in North America had surged by 50%, jumping from 250,000 to 300,000 units per week to over 400,000.
Similarly, sales of Tingke Bair's iPlayer, iCam, and even the recently released iMac had also seen significant increases. The iPad-10, set to launch this Saturday, had already surpassed 1.2 million pre-orders in North America alone in the two weeks since its announcement, clearly on track to become another blockbuster product with over 10 million sales in its first year.
While Hollywood buzzed with discussions about pseudo-documentary films, traditional electronics giants like Sony, Panasonic, Kodak, and Samsung, which had been overshadowed by Tingke Bair in recent years, were feeling the pressure.
These companies' competing products had been no match for Tingke Bair, and the success of the iRec and The Blair Witch Project's marketing partnership was undeniable. With such a clear template, it would be foolish not to follow suit.
Sony, being closest to Hollywood, had already tasked Sony Pictures' head, John Calley, with producing at least three pseudo-documentary films using Sony's consumer-grade digital cameras within the next year.
As for Panasonic, Kodak, and Samsung, even without Sony's proximity, they had sent teams to Hollywood to seek collaborations for their digital camera products.
In this climate, the creators of The Blair Witch Project, from the director to the actors, were in high demand. Studios and brands were offering increasingly lucrative deals to secure their involvement.
When the temptation became too great, resistance became difficult.
In Santa Monica.
At a luxurious restaurant bordering Brentwood.
It was breakfast time, and this was already the third meeting between Justin Lin, Disney president Bill Mechanic, and a Panasonic executive, reportedly the vice president of marketing, Nakagawa Shun.
As one of Hollywood's hottest names, Justin Lin had been inundated with offers since The Blair Witch Project's opening day. Even the most level-headed person would feel a bit of a rush.
If the flattery and attention from those around him only brought emotional satisfaction, the current offer of $6 million—up from an initial $3 million—plus a 10% cut of the domestic box office, was hard to resist.
But there was also guilt and hesitation.
The guilt stemmed from Lin's awareness that The Blair Witch Project's success was largely due to his role as an executor. If he took the high salary now but failed to deliver a film even half as successful as The Blair Witch Project, his reputation would be ruined.
The hesitation came from his contract.
"Mr. Mechanic, and Mr. Nakagawa, the issue is that I signed a three-picture deal with Daenerys Entertainment before The Blair Witch Project. According to the agreement, if I want to direct films for other studios during the contract period, I need Daenerys's approval."
As soon as Lin finished speaking, Nakagawa asked in heavily accented English, "Justin, can you tell us what the penalty for breaking the contract is?"
Lin shook his head. "It's not about the penalty. Honestly, Mr. Nakagawa, unless I have no other choice, I don't want to fall out with Daenerys."
Bill Mechanic interjected, "If I understand correctly, Justin, your contract allows you to direct for other studios with Daenerys's approval, but it doesn't outright prohibit it, right?"
"Yes."
"In that case, if you authorize us," Mechanic said, "we can approach Daenerys on your behalf."
Lin instinctively shook his head, mainly due to a lack of trust.
Even without considering Daenerys's support, given the studio's current dominance in Hollywood, Lin knew that a fallout could lead to his blacklisting. Despite the allure of Disney and Panasonic's $6 million offer, he hadn't lost his senses.
If Disney and Panasonic negotiated on his behalf, there was no guarantee they wouldn't deliberately sabotage the talks.
As for negotiating with Daenerys himself, it came back to the guilt.
Just last week, he had received a $1 million bonus from Daenerys, and they were already discussing his next project. Moreover, the new film was still in its early stages, and his salary had been set at $1 million. Lin knew that The Blair Witch Project was an exception, and Daenerys's offer of $1 million for a mainstream film, rather than a newcomer's rate, was already generous.
Furthermore, Daenerys was genuinely investing in his career. If his next film succeeded, he could easily join the ranks of directors like Roland Emmerich and Michael Bay, commanding salaries in the tens of millions.
But $1 million, along with an uncertain future, paled in comparison to the immediate $6 million and 10% box office cut.
Given The Blair Witch Project's massive influence, Lin knew that even if the second pseudo-documentary didn't perform as well, a $30 to $50 million box office was still achievable. He couldn't deny that this would essentially be cashing in on The Blair Witch Project's popularity.
Thus, the entire deal was worth around $10 million.
For most people, $10 million was enough to live comfortably for a lifetime.
Seeing Lin's hesitation, Mechanic patiently said, "Justin, I understand your concerns. You don't want to approach Daenerys directly, and you're worried we might mess things up. How about this: you can send someone you trust to join us in the negotiations. What about your agent at ICM, Vincent Pine?"
Unlike Amy Adams and Jessica Chastain, Lin already had an agent at ICM, one of Hollywood's top three agencies, before The Blair Witch Project.
However, Lin still shook his head.
His agent, like himself, had been a small player at ICM and lacked the foresight of Hollywood's top agents. Recently, if not for Lin's stern warnings, his agent would have already booked him for numerous projects.
This was why Lin was meeting Mechanic and Nakagawa alone today.
If he let his agent handle the negotiations, the man might sabotage the deal for the sake of a 10% commission.
Lin was already considering changing agents.
After some thought, Lin finally said, "I'll contact my father and have him represent me in these negotiations."
Mechanic and Nakagawa had no objections, though Mechanic couldn't help asking, "Justin, your father… does he live in Los Angeles?"
Lin felt a pang of irritation. Because of his Asian features, Mechanic likely assumed his parents lived in some remote village in China, perhaps even needing visas to come to the U.S., which could take time.
This kind of deep-seated prejudice and discrimination wasn't new to Lin, but he didn't react. Instead, he said, "My family lives in Orange County. A phone call is all it takes for my father to be here in half an hour."
Both men nodded, satisfied. That would work.
Daenerys Studios.
C-Girl had arrived in Los Angeles yesterday afternoon, stayed at the Dume Point estate last night, and even played the role of a maid during breakfast, bringing gifts and charming Janet with her demeanor.
She accompanied Simon to work in the morning.
C-Girl wasn't in Los Angeles for no reason. She was here for matters related to The Blair Witch Project and the recently greenlit The Blair Witch.
The first The Blair Witch Project had been a casual collaboration between Tingke Bair and Daenerys.
Now, with its success, a formal agreement was needed.
Even among family, clear terms were essential.
Otherwise, if Daenerys simply hinted at collaboration, other electronics companies would be willing to pay tens of millions to feature their digital cameras. Tingke Bair couldn't expect to benefit from shared marketing resources without offering something substantial.
To finalize the collaboration for The Blair Witch Project's sequels and Simon's brainchild, The Blair Witch, Claire had come to Los Angeles in person.
Of course, being family, there was no need for prolonged negotiations. During the short drive from the Dume Point estate to Daenerys Studios, C-Girl, nestled in Simon's arms, settled on a deal: $50 million for five films—two sequels to The Blair Witch Project and a planned The Blair Witch trilogy.
This was a one-time cash payment for the continued use of iRec digital cameras in these films.
Of course, Simon couldn't guarantee The Blair Witch's success, let alone a trilogy, so Tingke Bair's $50 million was primarily for The Blair Witch Project, with The Blair Witch as a bonus.
If calculated solely for The Blair Witch Project, $25 million per sequel might seem high, but it was equivalent to selling just 30,000 iRec units. Currently, iRec's weekly sales had surged to over 400,000 units.
Thus, $50 million was a small price for Tingke Bair.
And not excessively high.
Even if Daenerys offered this deal to Panasonic or Kodak, they would likely bite the bullet and pay.
Because The Blair Witch Project was that successful.
Moreover, with The Blair Witch series included, it was an even better deal. After all, it was Simon's brainchild, and he rarely missed the mark.
Arriving at the studio, C-Girl parted ways with Simon.
The $50 million was a rough figure. Other details, such as joint marketing efforts, needed further discussion and formalization.
These were matters for Claire and Amy to handle.
Simon went to his office in the administration building, where A-Girl briefed him on the day's schedule.
At 9 a.m., an hour to handle routine documents.
At 10 a.m., a production meeting for The Matrix.
The project was entering the casting phase, with filming set to begin in the first half of next year and a tentative release date in summer 1999.
At 11 a.m., a conference call with AOL to discuss the company's recent quarterly operations and financial summary.
Simon also planned to discuss AOL's collaboration with China Telecom with Steve Case.
The telecom project on Soros's list was something Simon intended to hand over to AOL. As an industry insider, AOL could provide both funding and technical expertise to China Telecom. The two parties had already collaborated on a smaller scale.
With limited growth opportunities in North America, securing this project would be a significant overseas expansion for AOL, providing a strong boost to its stock price.
At 12 p.m., an hour for lunch.
Simon had arranged to meet with the SpaceX team to discuss the progress of their first self-developed rocket.
In the afternoon.
At 1 p.m., a marketing coordination meeting for the upcoming holiday releases, including The Conjuring 2, A Bug's Life, Contact, and Titanic.
Contact's domestic distribution was handled by MGM, but as a co-production with Daenerys handling international distribution, it was included in the discussion. There was also The Flash 2, though that was entirely Warner's responsibility.
At 2 p.m., a screening of the rough cut of Deep Rising, set for release next Easter, followed by a discussion on production strategy.
This would take three hours.
Deep Rising, conceived and produced by The Mummy director Stephen Sommers, had wrapped filming two months ago and was now in post-production, with special effects and final editing underway.
The film had been a box office disaster in its original timeline, but Simon had pushed for its production, believing it wasn't as bad as its performance suggested. Its failure was largely due to poor distribution, as it had done well in home video sales.
Moreover, if it failed, Simon was somewhat looking forward to it.
At 5 p.m., while others left for the day, Simon would continue working.
He planned to meet with Amy Pascal and other executives to discuss key tasks during his upcoming absence from North America.
After wrapping up, Simon would head to Los Angeles International Airport for a direct flight to Hangzhou, China.
The full moon celebration for a certain little one was scheduled for Sunday.
Lin Su had returned with the child a week earlier, but Simon, busy with work and accounting for the time difference, would arrive just in time.
But, as they say, plans often can't keep up with changes.
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