The Editing Room

The editing room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the monitor. Oscar Isaac's face filled the screen, shadows cutting sharp across his jawline. Across from him, Ana de Armas leaned against a bar, her expression unreadable, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

Lex stepped in quietly, letting the door close softly behind him.

Benny, perched in his usual spot, didn't look away from the footage. A cigarette dangled from his lips—unlit, more for habit than anything else. His chair creaked slightly as he leaned back, eyes glued to the scene.

"You know," Lex said, breaking the silence, "you could probably edit faster if you stopped trying to romance the film."

Benny chuckled without turning. "Can you blame me? Look at them. It's like staring at a damn painting. "

Lex dropped into the chair beside him, eyes narrowing at the screen. "Yeah. A painting I paid for."

Benny finally pulled his cigarette from his mouth, shaking his head. "Relax, big spender. This one's turning out better than you expected. You'll get your money back. We did good, I can believe we really did wrap everything up in less than two weeks."

Lex smirked, tapping his fingers lightly on the desk. "I'm not just trying to break even, Benny. I'm trying to make sure it pays off double."

Benny gave him a sideways glance. "You always did aim high."

Then there was a long tension, hovering in the air—but something about the scene still felt incomplete.

Benny squinted at the screen, arms crossed. "It's not landing."

Lex stood behind him, his hands in his coat pockets, watching the footage with sharp focus. "It's the music."

Benny turned, his brow raised. "Music's coming in post. We'll add it after."

"It needs to come now," Lex countered, stepping closer to the desk. "Let me try something."

Benny groaned, tossing his clipboard onto the desk. "If you're about to throw some royalty-free acoustic nonsense into this, don't. This is a film, not a student project."

Lex smirked faintly, pulling his phone from his pocket. "Relax. I've got something better. Trust me."

Lex tapped a file on his screen, casting it to the system. A slow, brooding hum of a guitar filtered through the speakers—raw and unapologetically visceral. The melody carried weight, as if each note was dragging itself through cigarette smoke and regret. It wasn't polished, but it didn't need to be. It felt real.

As the music played, the scene transformed.

On-screen, Oscar Isaac's character finally spoke. His voice, already loaded with tension, now curled around the melody, each word carrying a weight that made the dialogue hit harder. Ana de Armas glanced up from her coffee, her faint smile tinged with an unspoken history. The bluesy riff swirled under the moment, weaving through the silence like it had always belonged there.

Benny leaned forward, his focus locked on the screen. He let out a slow exhale, tapping his fingers on the desk as the scene faded to black.

"Damn," Benny said softly. "That's…" He paused, shaking his head. "That's good. Really good."

Lex's smirk deepened, but he didn't say anything.

Benny spun in his chair, pointing at him. "Alright, Latham, where the hell did you get that?"

"Riverstone Records," Lex replied casually, slipping his phone back into his pocket. "It's part of the catalog I just bought from Marcus Dillard."

Benny's eyes widened. "Wait—Marcus Dillard? The Marcus Dillard? You bought his entire catalog?"

"Every track. Thousands of them," Lex said with a faint smile. "Including this one."

Benny blinked, processing. "You're telling me this song has just been sitting in your back pocket while we've been scrambling for a soundtrack?"

Lex shrugged. "I wasn't going to use it on something half-baked. Now, I figured we could pull from there."

Benny's expression shifted, intrigue flashing behind his tired eyes. "You want to use your music catalog for this?"

Lex nodded. "Why pay someone else when I already own the rights?"

Benny shook his head with a low laugh. "You sneaky bastard. If I'd tried to license a song like that, it would've cost—what—ten, twenty grand?"

Lex grinned. "Exactly. And now, you don't have to. I own it outright. We use it, we save money, and I make it back when the soundtrack sells."

Benny paused, staring at him. "You're terrifying, you know that?"

"I try," Lex replied smoothly.

As the blues track continued to loop in the background, Benny scanned the system's metadata, his eyes narrowing on the artist's name.

"Aiden Michaels," he muttered aloud.

Lex stepped closer. "What about him?"

Benny turned, his voice rising with recognition. "This is Aiden's track? Isn't he jason kid the one without a contract? When did that happen?"

Lex allowed himself a small smile. "Aiden's is sign and working. I commissioned this last week."

Benny leaned back, stunned. "You commissioned this for this movie?"

Lex nodded. " I had Jason handle production and dragged Quinn Andrews out to co-write the songs."

Benny let out a low whistle.

Lex's smirk returned. "Turns out Quinn has a soft spot for the right project. Especially when the story fits the music."

Benny stared at him, shaking his head slowly. "You're telling me you built an entire soundtrack for this film before it even hit post-production?"

"Not just a soundtrack," Lex corrected. "Budget was tight so its a mini-album with 6 songs. I wanted a narative. It's not just background music—it's part of the story we'll tell."

Benny laughed softly, shaking his head. "You really don't do anything halfway, do you?"

"Nope."

Lex smirked.

Benny nodded, tapping the spacebar to pause the footage. He swiveled in his chair to fully face Lex.

"I've got over ten thousand songs for you to pick from," Lex replied. "Start with Aiden's tracks and work your way through. You'll find what you need."

Benny pointed at him without looking. "If you make me fill this entire movie with your private collection—"

"I am," Lex interrupted smoothly, grinning.

Benny let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. "You're impossible, Latham."

Lex stepped toward the door, grabbing his coat. "I'm efficient." He glanced back, nodding toward the screen. "Keep cutting. I'll handle the business."

As he reached the door, Benny called out, "When this blows up, people are gonna call you a genius."

Lex paused, his hand on the doorframe. "It's not about being called a genius, Benny. It's about making sure that when this hits… I own every piece of it."