Behind The SpotLight

Behind The Spotlight Chapter 35

The man was quite old, perhaps in his 60s, with silver strands of hair brushed neatly back and sharp eyes that gleamed with calculation. However, he had the aura of a leader, a commanding presence that drew everyone's attention the moment he stepped in. His posture and demeanor spoke for themselves, exuding decades of authority and experience.

And sure enough, he was a leader in every sense of the word, someone who didn't need to announce his title to be respected.

The crowd began murmuring in hushed tones, their voices filled with shock and curiosity. They hadn't expected to see one of Hollywood's titans attend such a small screening.

"Why is the CEO of Uni-versus Pictures here?" someone whispered, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, I thought only people from the acquisition and production departments came. Maybe some executives, but the CEO is different."

"Tch, fucking old man. Should've died from a heart attack already," a bitter voice muttered, full of envy and spite.

The people started speaking more freely now, emboldened by the unusual tension.

The CEO of Uni-versus Pictures, Berry Cruz, remained entirely unfazed. He stood composed like a statue carved from calm stone. There was no reason for him to mingle with people in what he considered the lower caste of the film hierarchy. He simply kept his smile as he addressed Collin, a smile that seemed warm but was hard to read.

"Young man, your client is the one who filmed this movie, right?" Berry asked, his tone calm yet direct.

"That's right." Collin nodded politely, maintaining professional composure. He was surprised that the CEO of such a major corporation had actually watched their film in person rather than delegating the task like most top executives would. He knew who Berry Cruz was long before this moment, he'd seen his photos in newspapers and magazines.

Fortunately, Collin had experience speaking to a certain CEO, so he wasn't nervous. He wasn't like the man who once trembled in front of Lila. Perhaps he'd developed tolerance.

Collin studied the old man with the practiced eye of someone who had learned to read people. He was good at sensing whether someone was bad news, a survival skill he'd mastered over the years. It was why he could find the "right" people. Unfortunately, there were still moments when he placed trust in the wrong people, a flaw he hadn't fully corrected.

Based on his gut feeling, Berry Cruz was a dangerous and calculating man who hid his true intentions well, but he wasn't bad news, at least not at this moment.

'Unlike these people here...' Collin glanced at the representatives from Wash Dismay, who were eyeing him with thinly veiled hostility. He could feel the bad vibes radiating from them, and his instincts were rarely wrong. That was also one reason he was hesitant to sign a deal with them, despite their increasingly generous offers.

"I see, I see. Your client is talented, I can see his potential. Looks like your career's going to be interesting." The old man nodded with a knowing smile, as if already planning several steps ahead.

"Well then, since this young man says he's only interested in a distribution deal, why don't we offer him our propositions?" Berry turned to the crowd with the poise of a ringmaster inviting competition.

The others nodded and agreed, reluctantly at first, then with growing enthusiasm. With one of Hollywood's elite present, no one wanted to overstep.

In this industry, connections often mattered more than merit, and the film world was a small circle. Showing disrespect could mean being blacklisted, so they held their tongues and postured carefully.

"We'll distribute your movie for 40% of the box office share as a distribution fee!" a sharp-suited man declared, breaking the silence.

Another raised his voice confidently.

"38%, but you'll provide the promotion budget!"

"35% of the box office shares as our distribution fee!" someone yelled from the back, hoping to be heard.

"33%! But you must introduce us to one of your female clients, must be a virgin!" another said with a sleazy grin, earning several glares.

Hearing these offers, Collin couldn't help but frown in disgust and disbelief. Some were outrageous, even offensive, and couldn't be fulfilled even if he wanted to.

He glanced again at the Wash Dismay representatives to gauge their next move. Taylor wore a thoughtful expression as he bit his lip, clearly deep in mental calculations.

"30% box office share as our distribution fee," Taylor said. "But the director must sign a single-picture contract with us for a maximum salary of $1 million. Think about it, your client gets an automatic project and a million-dollar paycheck. You'll earn 10% commission from that." Taylor tried to sound casual despite the desperation beneath his pitch.

He was dead serious about this movie. He recognized that the director had a unique talent for comedy, particularly in pacing and timing, that was marketable. The movie's biggest strength was how it handled humor.

Collin listened to every offer without reacting too strongly. Some were decent, promising even, but he was still waiting for the right one, one that checked both the emotional and financial boxes. As a talent agent, he had to be shameless. His job wasn't just to close good deals, it was to get the best deals. He wanted more money, always more, if possible.

If Taylor had increased the salary to $2 million, Collin might have accepted without blinking.

Then, Collin turned his eyes to the old man, studying him with focused curiosity. Most of the representatives had shouted out their offers, proud and loud. But Berry, the CEO of Uni-versus Pictures, had yet to speak. His silence made his presence even more commanding.

The old man smiled in a way that quieted the room.

"We will distribute your movie for a 30% box office share as our distribution fee," Berry began. "In addition, Uni-versus Pictures will pay $2 million if you sign a contract stating that any sequels of The Accidental Wedding Crashers will be distributed only by Uni-versus Pictures. The distribution fee will remain 30%."

His voice was even, but his words landed like iron weights.

"Deal." Collin responded immediately, without hesitation.

There was no reason to hesitate. This was the offer he had been waiting for. He extended his hand, and the old CEO laughed heartily as he shook it.

"Young man, it seems like you know what you're doing," Berry grinned, as if he'd just discovered a promising star.

"I still need to learn from you." Collin returned the grin.

Their smiles reflected mutual respect, sealed by a handshake.

"Then how about we contact our respective lawyers and discuss the details?" Berry suggested, his tone making the upcoming meeting sound more like a celebration than a negotiation.

Collin left the auditorium, followed by Berry and his entourage. This marked the start of a great business cooperation, a deal that would echo through their careers for years.

...

...

...

"God fucking damn it! Fucking shit! Fuck fuck fuck!!" Taylor's screams echoed like thunder down the alleyway.

He shouted as if the world had crumbled beneath him. Emmanuel stood by, witnessing his supervisor's meltdown behind the ANT building. Taylor's face was red, his forehead veins bulging from rage.

Taylor was livid because he had let a golden goose slip away and he had no one to blame but himself. On top of that, he earned nothing from the failed deal, making the loss all the more personal.

"Tch, fuck that old man!" he muttered bitterly, pacing like a caged animal.

Just like Taylor, Berry Cruz had recognized the potential of The Accidental Wedding Crashers, a film too good to pass up. He secured the distribution deal, including exclusive rights to the sequels, ensuring long-term gains.

Taylor and Berry both knew this movie had the potential to become a franchise, with multiple sequels, spin-offs, and even merchandise. That's why they fought so hard to gain control over it.

When they couldn't acquire the copyright, both settled for backup plans to still get a share of the profits.

Taylor tried to entice Collin with a future project tied to a guaranteed $1 million salary, hoping to bait him in.

Berry had a different strategy. Instead of attempting to buy the film, he offered a distribution deal paired with a $2 million payment and a contract securing exclusive sequel rights, a long-term play for IP control.

Sure, Uni-versus had to pay $2 million, but in return, they gained control over the potential franchise.

In the end, it was a win-win situation, no matter how bitter Taylor felt. Collin had just negotiated the biggest deal of his life, while Uni-versus Pictures secured distribution rights to a movie with franchise potential and a cult following.

A movie franchise was a studio's dream. A recurring revenue source that could be monetized for years through sequels, merchandise, and brand loyalty.