Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Sorry for the late update. Everyone's life got busy there for a reason, and I had little time to write. Anyways here is the next chapter. Shout out to Umut_Cepken_6839 I may bring up Drew Barrymore again at some point and thanks for the reminder on other things to invest in. I had forgotten about those.

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"Sometimes I regret becoming a director. All the childish egos, behind-the-scenes fights between stars, creative differences, unions, and fucking producers on your ass could drive a man crazy. Don't go over budget, and don't do this scene like that; I think this would be better. Can you tone it down? Is this okay for children? Blah, blah, blah. I fucking swear to God if God is real, I deserve to go to heaven just for not killing a motherfucker. Because God knows I came close to killing someone several times." Caesar Espinar

-1998-

You know, some things just can't be changed. No matter what you do, they just can't be changed. A good example of this is James fucking Cameron. He was a genius, and no matter what I did, even being stabbed would not change that. Scream 2 to most, was was going to be the movie of 1997, but nope fuck that. Titanic, a film that no one but me saw coming, still took the top spot. Blowing Scream 2 right out of the God damn water like it was nothing. I wasn't mad, mind you, seeing as I knew it was coming, but still, it kind of hurt that even after nearly dying, that pretty boy Leonardo DiCaprio still did better than me.

Okay, maybe I was a little mad, but come on. You nearly die for a woman you don't know, and you are the hottest guy in Hollywood for like 10 minutes. You fake bang a girl in a movie and pretend to die for her, and suddenly, you're the hottest thing in Hollywood. I tell you, people are fickle, man. The people at WB were wondering why I kept pushing them to give Selena a later release date. This is why. Leo-mania was peaking, and if I recall correctly, Titanic would top the box office for 16 weeks, preventing Selena from reaching number one. Not that I expected it to, but it would stand a better chance if Titanic had some time to cool down.

Anyway, by the end of 1997, a few things were becoming apparent to me that, till now, I was either ignoring or pushing to the side for too long. My original goal when coming to Hollywood was to set myself up as one of its top writers. However, several unexpected events saw me become that far faster than I had predicted. While I had knowledge of future films in my head, the fact remained that just by sheer odds, one of them should have been a flop by now. But they all made more than 100 million at the box office. Earning me the reputation as the man who could write a 100-million-dollar movie. A rep that became stronger with Jennifer's hit single that just came out.

If You Had My Love was released last week and hit number one fast, with its music video becoming the most watched video on MTV. This propelled Jennifer from a somewhat known actress to superstardom overnight. Already, everyone was jumping on the new hottest thing out there, with everyone trying to interview her or take pictures of her. Needless to say, she loved the attention like anyone in her position would.

As for me, I was taking a backseat for the time being, relaxing after a somewhat difficult year. Relaxing, being the key word, not stopping, I thought as I walked into the HQ of Warner Bros. Having gotten a call from Arnold Kopelson, who had become my go-to guy at Warner Bros. I wouldn't say we friends per say. Still, at this point Arnold was one of the few people in Hollywood I trusted not to try and thoroughly fuck me over if he got a chance and because of that when he gave me a call I showed up. I owned the guy my respect, if nothing else.

When I walk into his office, he gets up, and we shake hands.

"Caesar, it's good seeing you. How are you doing?" Arnold asks with honest concern in his voice.

I will tell you this much: the only reason Arnold and I were not fully friends was because of the business that we were in. If not for that one thing, we would have been the closest of friends. Because you see, it is when you're about to die that you learn who your real friends are. Not many people visited me when I was in the hospital. The only ones that did were those I was closest to, but none of the WB executives showed up, and even those I had worked with several times didn't. But out of everyone who did show up, Arnold was one of the last people I had expected to see, especially when he showed up when it was still unclear if I would make it. Maybe he was just worried his cash cow was going to die or perhaps he gave a fuck about me. Whatever the reason, I would ensure he got the best of my scripts until our deal ended.

"Good enough, Arnold. So what's up? Why did you call me? You know the doctors said I should be taking it easy for the time being." I say to him.

"I know, but the studio executives wanted to see if you are still unwilling to write the script for Scream 3," Arnold tells me.

Ya, that was something that I had forgotten. After the success of Scream 2, WB kind of got tired of letting New Line have the rights to such a lucrative franchise and had not so kindly forced them out by giving me a big hit that if I didn't ask for anything less than 1.2 million dollars for the following script. Well, they would be very upset with me. A hint that I wasn't stupid enough to ignore but did let Robert know about: he wasn't happy either, but in the end, he understood I had little choice but to price it so high, forcing him to pass on the 3rd movie.

However, while I took the hint, that didn't mean I didn't hit back at WB and sold them the rights to write as many scripts as they liked for 5.2 million dollars. It was my own little hint to them that I was done writing for the franchise. A hit they were not as willing to take as Robert. In fact, according to Arnold, I had ruffled more than a few feathers with the top brass. Not too many of them, mind you, seeing as they still wanted to work with me, but it wasn't going to be on Scream.

"You already know my answer, Arnold," I say as I take a seat on a couch in his office.

After grabbing a bottle of whisky and a couple of glasses, he joins me. "I figured as much. Though I am surprised you are so upset about what they did to Robert."

Picking up one of the glasses he had poured whisky into, I take a sip and say, "It's not about Robert Arnold. I don't like….." I take a moment then say, "Being given hints."

Taking a sip of his glass, Arnold says, "I had guessed as much. If it's any consolation, I had warned them not to."

"I know, Arnold. You're not that stupid." I say, and we both chuckle a bit at that.

Then I added, "So are you going to tell me the real reason why I am here? You wouldn't call me to get an answer you already knew."

Nodding his head, Arnold says, "As sharp as ever. Okay I will just cut the bullshit. You know the WB network has several shows in the works, right?"

"I have heard a few whispers. Something about a show about three sisters, right?" I ask him.

"That is right. The show is called Charmed, and it was created by a woman named Constance M. Burge. Do you know her?" Arnold asks.

"Ya, I have met her a few times." In this business, you meet everyone who is worth anything sooner or later. The only question is if they are worth remembering. She honestly wasn't and wouldn't be if it wasn't for Charmed and a show called Royal Pains that would come out later in the next century.

"How would you feel about working with her on the show for a while?" Arnold asks.

I didn't answer him for a while but said after a few moments, "You know I am busy with Spielberg. We start filming in a month. I won't be available till after the movie is done."

"I know that, and that is why I am not asking you to work on the set or even with the actors. We want you to look at the scripts and maybe write a few yourself if you have time." Arnold says to me.

I look at him, and my eyes tell him I know why he really wanted me to write for the show despite not being in the TV business. WB was unhappy that I was unwilling to write Scream 3, and now I was working with DreamWorks Pictures. They were concerned that I would start looking to work with other studios despite my favoring them for the most part. They probably wouldn't feel that way if they knew about Arnold and my deal behind closed doors. But Arnold was an intelligent man and would not share that information openly.

"And what is WB offering me for my time?" I ask him.

"Twenty-five thousand per episode you write and 5 for every script you review," Arnold says.

"That is a hell of a deal," I tell him.

"When you're the best in Hollywood, you get top dollar. You know that." Arnold says to me with a smile.

I made it seem like I was thinking about it, but he knew I would take the deal. "Fine, but you need to do something for me."

"Name it," Arnold says.

"I have a new script," I say to him.

"Give it here, and I will make sure you get top dollar," Arnold says, interrupting me.

"That is the thing. I am not looking to sell it, Arnold, not unless I get to direct it." I say to him

Once he hears this, any trace of a smile on his face disappears, and he sits back. "That is quite the thing you're asking for, Caesar."

"I know."

Pouring himself another glass of whisky, Arnold takes a sip and says, "How much are we talking about?"

"Forty million," I answer him.

Running his hand over his mouth and chin, Arnold says, "Forty million is a lot of money, Caesar."

"Still less than what I have made WB so far." I point out to him.

"That is true," Arnold says while thinking it over.

It was true that Caesar had brought in a lot of money to WB—far more than 40 million—but it was also true that Caesar had never directed a movie before. He never hid his ambition to do so one day, but to this day, he hasn't even made any experimental films. Now, he was aiming to direct a major motion picture.

"You may be asking for too much, Caesar," Arnold says.

"I know, and that is why I am not asking to do it this year," I tell him.

Raising an eyebrow, Arnold says, "You're not?"

"No, as you are aware, in my contract to work on Buffy the Vampire Slayer, there is a clause that states that I get to direct at least three episodes. With supervision from Joss, who can cut in if he doesn't think I am doing a good job." I tell him.

"I am aware. Go on." Arnold says.

"Well, we will soon find out if I'm ready to direct. If I am not, well….." I say, leaning back.

Arnold takes some time to think this over, "It's still a big risk, Caesar. Let's say for a moment that you do a good job on the show, and the episodes are a hit. TV isn't the silver screen. You're asking me to take a huge risk here."

"No bigger than the one that got me into Hollywood in the first place," I say to him.

This made Arnold laugh just a bit. It was true, after all, and reminded Arnold that David was right. There was something about Caesar that went beyond him being a genius writer. No other writer could have achieved as much as he did in the short amount of time they had been in Hollywood.

"We will see how Selena does and how you do on Buffy. If it's good, I will make some calls, but this won't be easy, and I will have to see this script beforehand." Arnold says. What was one more risk at his age, anyways?

"As soon as I get it copyrighted. Now, if you will excuse me, I have to meet with someone." I say to Arnold as I stand up.

"Say hello to Tiff for me," Arnold says, knowing who I was going to see.

 I once read in an article when I was younger that when a woman becomes pregnant with a man's child, that woman becomes more attractive in the eyes of said man, not just in his eye either, but in the eyes of others as well. Now I had seen pregnant women before and had thought it was complete bullshit. Granted, they were not ugly to look at, but I never saw this glow people talked about. Yet here I was, sitting across from one of the mothers of my soon-to-be children, and I had to say that opinions change. Even as she stuffed her face with what I think is her 6th taco.

"What?" I hear Tiff ask.

"Huh?" I ask in turn.

"You're smiling," She says to me.

"Is that wrong?" I ask her, still smiling.

Her eyes narrowed. "No, but it's that smile you show when you're thinking of something completely perverted."

I waved her off and said, "It's nothing. I was just thinking about something else you could put in your mouth."

She tosses a piece of food at me for that and says, "You're disgusting."

I shrug my shoulders and say, "What can I say? It's been a while for me, and you look really sexy right now."

That makes her smile a bit. Tiff had yet to forgive Caesar fully for what had happened that night. Risking his life like he did, but in the end, she couldn't stay angry with him for saving someone's life. She blamed the hormones for her overreaction. This was their first meeting since the breakup, given that she was also upset that he started dating Jennifer Lopez shortly after their breakup. Again, however, she ultimately forgave him because she knew it was a fake relationship.

"Oh, what is wrong? Not getting any from your new girlfriend?" Tiff says in a teasing voice.

"No, it's not that. Well it is but getting stabbed fucked me up for a while. After that, we have been kind of busy." I say to her.

"That never stopped me and you." She says again with a smirk as she leans forward showing off her admitting larger tits. That, while hidden by her modest shirt, still stood out.

"True, but Jennfier and I relationship is unconventional," I tell her.

"Not for this industry, it isn't." She points out with a laugh. It was true after all. Around 60 or 70 percent of all relationships and marriages in Hollywood were fake.

"Hmmm," Is all I say to her.

For a moment, neither of us says anything—that is, until she brings up a new topic.

"Salma told me she had you sign some paperwork."

I look at her and say, "You two are talking now?"

"We chat, kind of have to, seeing as we share something in common now," Tiff says as she rubs her stomach.

"True," I answer.

Looking slightly downcast, she says, "I am sorry, Caesar."

Again, I waved her off and said, "It's not a big deal. It's not like she's trying to keep me away from my kid or from signing the birth certificate. She just wants what is best for the kids."

"By making the father give up all his rights to his child?" Tiff asks.

I lean back and say, "You were not the only one who reacted badly to what I did, Tiff. The only difference is she never stopped talking to me."

"You never called," Tiff points out.

I nod my head at that. She had a point. I switched topics, saying, "Thanks for not criticizing me publicly. I had half expected you to do so when they found out you were pregnant. People have already guessed that I am the father of Salma's kid, though she has yet to come out and say so."

Smiling softly, Tiff says, "Don't think I wasn't tempted to."

I laugh a bit at that.

"So, is there any word on when Salma will announce that you are the father?" Tiff asks.

"No clue. She may never actually admit it." I tell her.

"The old let people think what they will approach, huh? I can see the appeal. "Tiff says.

God knows she had been facing her own fair share of problems due to the pregnancy, both within and outside of her family. Her father expressed disappointment, whereas her mother exhibited a mixture of happiness and anger towards her for getting pregnant out of wedlock. As for her fans, well, there were mixed reactions there.

"It hasn't been all bad. Other than the threats on my person from your fan base, a lot of good has been coming out of all this. Paramount called. All my demands have been met." I tell her.

"You mean The Strangers is a go?" Tiff asks with a hopeful smile.

"That is right. They know they can no longer fuck around with this anymore. Too many people are interested, and while the other studios hadn't offered me everything I wanted yet, it was only a matter of time before they did. So Paramount finally gave in to my demands to avoid losing out on making a deal at all." I told her.

"Yes," Tiff says in excitement.

"Just remember when you call Elizabeth that you let her know this has to be a hit. No fucking around and no drama. I am already walking on thin ice with WB for refusing to write Scream 3. If Selena fails for some reason, all the good will I built with them over the last two years goes right down the drain." I tell her.

"Don't worry, Caesar. You are not the only one taking a risk here. Now, let's talk about something else." Tiff says to me.

"Like what?" I ask.

"Like what we are going to name the baby," She says with a smirk, and I smile as we start to go over names.