….
[14th December 2017]
The fitting room on the second floor of LIE Studios is in full swing.
However, unlike the normal look test for any film; it is for a whole another reason.
"Keep your left arm down, Keanu."
Seren Seraphsail said, kneeling on the floor with three pins held between her fingers–
"If you keep turning your shoulder, this sleeve is going to hang an inch too short."
Keanu stood on the round fitting box.
He was wearing a dark navy tuxedo jacket with smooth satin lapels, and he looked down at Seren with an apologetic smile–
"Sorry, Seren. I can't stay still for too long."
"Oh, where does all that motivation to stay still while filming disappear to?" Seren pointed out as she pinned the cuff into place. "It's the Oscars tonight. You have a Best Actor nomination, and you're presenting an award too. I am not letting you walk onto that stage looking unkempt."
Across the room on the couch, Regal was sitting next to Gwendolyn.
Regal wore a simple, tailored black tuxedo.
Gwendolyn was looking him over, checking the collar and smoothing down the front of his shirt. She wore an emerald silk gown that fell straight to the floor, her blonde hair styled up with a few soft curls framing her face.
"Guess we don't need sneakers under the dress tonight," Regal joked.
Gwendolyn raised an eyebrow. "I certainly hope not."
She leaned closer and quietly lifted the hem of her gown just enough to reveal the tip of a green high heel.
"And just so you know, since there are no sneakers tonight, if you decide to make another run for it, I am going to be stuck walking very slowly."
"I am not running anywhere." Regal chuckled, resting his hand over hers. "One wedding was enough."
Near the garment racks, Darren Hayes leaned against a clothing rail, drinking from a cardboard cup–
"Thank God for that," he muttered. "Because neither Samantha nor I want to go through another night like that. I got so sick of answering the phone that I swear I'm going to develop some kind of psychological disorder where I become genuinely afraid of ringing phones."
"What should we name that disorder?" Regal laughed, but before Darren could come up with an answer, the door swung open.
Samantha walked into the room, holding her tablet in one hand and an envelope in the other.
It had the official gold seal of the Academy stamped across the front. Attached to it was a bright yellow delivery slip marked:
–HAND-DELIVERED | MANDATORY RECEIPT–
Samantha stopped in the middle of the room. Her face was calm, but her eyes held a very clear look of utter disbelief.
"Well." she said, holding up the letter. "The Academy just sent us a little gift."
Regal looked up from the sofa. "What did we do now?"
Samantha replied, sliding her finger under the flap and pulling out two folded sheets of paper. "This arrived by private courier ten minutes ago, and an official memo from the Board of Governors."
Seren stood up from the floor, wiping her hands on her apron. "A memo for what?"
Samantha adjusted her glasses and began reading out loud:
"To all attending studio executives, nominated artists, and invited guests of the 90th Academy Awards:
"In order to protect the integrity of the live international broadcast and ensure proper seating during all televised segments, the Academy has added a mandatory update to the guest code of conduct, Section 12-B: Seating and Hall Protocol.
"All guests seated on the main orchestra floor of the Dolby Theatre must remain in their assigned seats for the entire duration of the ceremony.
"No nominee or guest may leave the auditorium before the end credits finish rolling, except in the case of a verified, life-threatening medical emergency confirmed by on-site Los Angeles Fire Department personnel.
"Guests are strictly forbidden from using backstage service hallways, kitchen exits, or basement freight elevators to leave the building early. Any unapproved exit will result in immediate loss of voting membership and the forfeiture of any awards given during the evening."
"..."
The room went completely silent.
Keanu looked down, trying not to smile.
Darren stared at Samantha for three full seconds, blinked twice, then slowly dropped his head against the wall as laughter began shaking his shoulders.
"Hahaha..." He finally broke, covering his face with one hand. "They actually wrote an anti-Regal rule! And literally put it in the damn rulebook!"
Keanu finally lost his battle against the laughter, shaking his head as he chuckled. "I knew it. Talk about an achievement."
"Did they send this to everyone?" Regal asked, trying to ignore the teasing as an amused grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Yes. Every single nominee in town got one," Samantha replied, handing the letter over to Regal. "I spoke to someone on the committee a few minutes ago, and apparently the broadcast director nearly lost his mind when he saw that footage of you sitting in a restaurant in Glendale, casually eating garlic bread less than an hour after accepting Best Drama."
"So they spent two days drafting an entire new rule just to make sure you don't disappear during a commercial break." Keanu said, shaking his head.
Regal glanced over the formal notice before looking toward Rock, who stood quietly by the door in his security suit.
"Hear that, Rock?" Regal said. "No back alleys tonight."
Rock gave a single, solemn nod. "Understood, Boss. If you command it, we can simply walk out through the main entrance."
The entire room stared at him in dumbfounded silence.
….
By 4:00 PM on Sunday, Hollywood Boulevard was completely shut down.
Outside the Dolby Theatre, the red carpet stretched out.
On both sides, thousands of fans packed the tall bleachers, holding up posters, sharpies, and cameras, screaming at the top of their lungs whenever a black car pulled up to the drop-off line.
When the two black LIE Studios cars stopped at the curb, the noise from the crowd doubled.
Regal stepped out first, looking sharp and relaxed in his fitted black tuxedo, before turning to offer Gwendolyn his hand and help her gracefully onto the carpet.
Right behind them, Keanu stepped out, looking handsome and calm, followed by director Lena Crawford in a graceful dark velvet dress.
A few feet back, Ross Oakley joined the group, having arrived in the second car. The veteran actor looked completely at home, wearing a classic double-breasted tuxedo and carrying himself with the easy dignity that made him so perfect as Dumbledore.
The second the group gathered together, a wall of white camera flashes went off all along the barricades.
Reporters shouted their names from every side.
—"Regal! Over here!"
—"Keanu! How does it feel being nominated for an action film?!"
—"Lena! Are you taking home the gold tonight?!"
Regal guided the group toward the center interview station, where an ABC host was practically waving them over with his microphone.
"Regal! Gwen! Keanu!" the host called out with a broad grin. "Twenty-one nominations between three films tonight, but before we talk about any of that, I have to ask. Did the Academy's little warning letter make it to you this morning?"
Regal smiled and gave a small nod. "It did."
"So they really had to put you under house arrest?" the host joked. "Are you officially forbidden from leaving the theater tonight, Mr. Seraphsail?" Regal laughed. "Apparently, if I try to sneak out for a taco, they will take my Oscar away."
The nearby cameramen chuckled.
"But I will give them the benefit of the doubt." Regal added with an amused smile. "I'm sure they're just trying to make sure everyone stays in their seats and the ceremony runs smoothly, so I will be a good sport and stick around until the lights come back on."
The host turned the mic toward Keanu. "Keanu, Best Actor for John Wick. Action movies don't usually get this kind of love from the Academy. How are you feeling tonight?"
Keanu touched his heart with a humble smile. "Just grateful, honestly. We worked hard, the stunt crew gave everything, and Regal wrote a character with real soul. Being here with these people is already a win for me."
After a few more photos, Regal led the group through the double glass doors and into the lobby of the Dolby Theatre.
Inside the main auditorium, the atmosphere felt grand and serious.
Unlike the casual dinner tables at the Golden Globes, the Dolby Theatre had rows of deep red velvet seats arranged under a towering gold-leaf ceiling. LIE Studios had been given prime seating right in the third row of the center orchestra section, right in front of the main television cameras.
Regal sat down, helping Gwendolyn with her coat. Keanu sat to his left, with Lena Crawford, Ross Oakley, and Seren filling the adjacent seats.
At 5:00 PM sharp, the house lights dimmed.
The orchestra began to play, the massive stage screens lit up, and the 90th Academy Awards went live across the world.
The host came out to loud applause, doing a brisk, funny monologue about the year in film. Halfway through, he walked down the small steps at the side of the stage and stopped right next to Row C, looking straight at Regal.
"Just take a look at this lineup." the host said, gesturing toward his card with an impressed grin. "LIE Studios is walking into tonight's ceremony with an incredible twenty-one nominations."
He then leaned slightly toward Regal, lowering his voice with a mischievous grin.
"And Regal, I checked the kitchen downstairs before the show. We've got two security guards named Mike and Tony stationed outside the pantry door, so don't even think about making a run for it, buddy."
The entire room erupted into laughter. The main television camera swung around, capturing Regal on the big monitors holding both hands up with a relaxed, guilty smile.
The ceremony moved into its first round of awards.
[Best Costume Design]
The presenters came out, read the five nominees, and opened the gold envelope.
"And the Oscar goes to... Seren Seraphsail, for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix!"
Row C jumped to its feet.
Regal caught his twin sister in a tight, proud hug, kissing her temple before she stepped into the aisle. Seren walked up the stage stairs, looking steady and elegant in a tailored dark suit.
At the microphone, she held the statue with a warm smile. "Thank you to the Academy, to my incredible crew, and especially to my little brother Regal, for always trusting me to bring these worlds to life."
She stepped away to loud applause and laughter, while Regal's eye twitched slightly at the word "little." Still, he clapped until his palms were warm, a deep, quiet satisfaction settling in his chest.
Twenty minutes later:
"Best Sound Editing…."
The presenter opened the envelope and announced:
"And the Oscar goes to... Zack Barg and Ludwig Göransson, for John Wick!"
The theater cheered loudly as action films rarely won over massive historical war movies in sound, but the clean, bone-cracking audio of [John Wick] was simply too sharp to ignore.
Zack and Ludwig walked up together, with Zack giving a short, funny speech thanking Keanu for 'never missing a reload mark so we didn't have to fake the clicks'.
Then came:
"Best Animated Feature Film…."
The category had two big studio favorites, but when the card was pulled, the room gave a collective cheer:
"Kung Fu Panda! Unique FX and LIE Studios!"
David Scott and Leo Woert took the stage, proudly thanking Regal for letting them build a story grounded in genuine ancient philosophy rather than standard cartoon slapstick.
And right after that:
"Best Visual Effects."
Unique FX took home its second trophy of the night for [Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix], specifically recognized for the massive, practical feeling glass shattering battle in the Department of Mysteries.
Four technical and craft wins locked in within the first ninety minutes.
LIE Studios was already having a remarkable night, and the big prestige categories hadn't even started yet.
….
Around 7:20 PM, as the ceremony passed its midpoint, the announcer's voice echoed through the house speakers:
"Please welcome Academy Award nominees... Regal Seraphsail and Keanu Reeves."
A loud, genuine wave of applause rolled through the theater as Regal and Keanu walked out together from stage left.
They stood side by side, Regal poised and confident while Keanu stood tall and steady, his hands resting lightly on either side of the stand.
Regal leaned into his microphone first. "Good evening. Usually, when Keanu and I are working together, someone is reloading a gun, jumping through a window, or running for a train."
Keanu leaned in with a small, crooked smile. "Or you being legally forced to stay in our chairs by the Academy."
The whole front section of the theater laughed out loud.
"Tonight, though, we have the privilege of presenting an award that represents the very beginning of filmmaking." Keanu said, his voice sincere, and grounded–
"The short films, the stories made by people who don't have massive studio lots or giant budgets but instead scrape together just enough money to rent a camera for a weekend, gather a few friends, and try to capture something honest."
Regal looked down at the envelope in his hands, his tone warm and earnest–
"All great directors today are indie filmmakers who started with a short story. These five films prove that twenty minutes of truth can hit just as hard as a three-hour blockbuster."
Regal looked toward the monitors. "Here are the nominees for Best Live Action Short Film."
The five clips played on the screens above; small, heartfelt indie projects from young filmmakers across different countries.
When the lights came back up, Regal used his thumb to slide the gold seal open. He looked at the card, smiled, and stepped back slightly, gesturing for Keanu to read it.
Keanu leaned down to the mic:
"And the Oscar goes to...
"The Long Road Home, directed by David Martinez!"
A young man in his late twenties, sitting in the upper balcony, practically tripped over his row in pure excitement. He ran down the aisle, sprinting down the carpeted stairs with his hands over his face in disbelief.
When he reached the stage, breathless and shaking, Regal handed him the golden Oscar with a two-handed handshake.
Keanu pulled the young director into a brief, gentle shoulder hug, whispering into his ear: "Great work, brother. Keep telling your stories."
The young filmmaker stood at the mic with tears in his eyes, giving a humble, shaking thank-you speech that made half the room smile.
Watching from the side of the stage, Regal felt a quiet tug of nostalgia.
Six years ago, he had been standing in a similar spot with his first low-budget project, wondering if anyone in this town would ever take him seriously.
Now, he was the one handing over the gold.
When Regal and Keanu walked back down the stairs to their seats in Row C, the broadcast cut to a commercial break.
"Nice speech up there, hotshot." Darren whispered from behind them, leaning over his seat.
"Keanu did the heavy lifting." Regal smiled, sitting down and adjusting his jacket.
Gwendolyn reached over, taking Regal's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Her eyes were warm. "You looked good up there."
"Thank you." Regal whispered back.
"Save it." she said, leaning against his shoulder for a quick second. "Because the big ones are next."
Regal looked down at his watch: 7:55 PM.
Around them, the lights began to dim once more as the stage managers signaled five seconds back to air.
The early technical awards were over. The craft categories were settled.
Now, the heavy hitters were coming up: Best Supporting Actor, the Screenplays, Best Actor, Best Director, and Best Picture.
The real fight was about to begin.
.
….
[To be continued…]
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