Deal over dinner

The restaurant buzzed quietly with the mutters of conversations and the occasional clatter of plates. 

It was a high-end spot, the kind of place where the waiters wore pressed uniforms, and every table was hidden behind sleek wooden dividers to ensure privacy. 

Michael sat in one of the booths, his hands folded on the table in front of him. Across from him sat David Gustav, an executive at HollyMedia, with a cigar in his hand and a skeptical expression on his face.

David puffed out smoke lazily, letting the tendrils curl up toward the dull chandelier above them. "You're serious about this?" he asked, his voice low.

Michael leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the polished wood of the table. "I wouldn't bring it up if I wasn't."

Before David could respond, a waiter approached their table, wearing a polite, neutral expression. "Have you gentlemen decided on your orders?"

"Just a steak. Medium rare," David said curtly, taking another puff of his cigar.

Michael waved a hand. "The same for me. And bring a bottle of your best red wine."

The waiter nodded and slipped away, leaving the two men alone again.

David leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "So, Derek Cain. The man's falling apart right in front of us. The news is everywhere. Drugs, debts—it's a mess." He took another drag from his cigar, letting the words hang in the air. "And this is our lead actor. Our romantic hero, for God's sake. In a romance movie."

Michael nodded. "I'm well aware. Believe me, I've been thinking about nothing else since the story broke."

David scoffed. "And you think some… extra is going to fix this mess?"

Michael's lips curled into a small smile. "Not fix it. Salvage it."

"Salvage it," David repeated, leaning back and flicking ash from his cigar into the tray. "Do you know how insane that sounds? We've already got Sarah Blankett, who everyone remembers for her little scandal a few years back. Now Derek's pulling the same stunt. The media's going to tear this film apart before it even hits theaters."

Michael adjusted his tie, his expression calm. "That's why we change the angle."

David raised an eyebrow. "The angle?"

"Yes," Michael said. "The story can't just be a happy-go-lucky romance anymore. Nobody's going to buy it with these two as the leads. But if we lean into it—if we make it darker, more tragic—it could work. We don't have to hide from the scandal. We use it."

Before David could respond, the waiter returned with their meals, placing two perfectly cooked steaks and a bottle of wine on the table. He poured them each a glass, then left with a quiet bow.

David picked up his knife and fork but didn't touch his food yet. "And where does this extra of yours come into all this?"

Michael finally allowed himself a sip of the wine, savoring it for a moment before answering. "Eliot Park. That's his character's name in the movie. But the actor—Ethan Cole—is the real story here."

David frowned. "I've never even heard of him."

"Of course you haven't," Michael said with a chuckle. "He's nobody. Just a background actor we hired for some minor scenes. But there's something about him. Something… raw."

David snorted. "Raw? That's what we're banking on now?"

Michael didn't respond immediately. Instead, he pulled out his phone and placed it on the table. He tapped the screen a few times before sliding it toward David. On the screen was a YouTube video.

"What's this?" David asked, picking up the phone.

"The questionnaire promo we filmed with the cast," Michael said. "Watch it."

David sighed but pressed play. The video started with James Payne, the well-known interviewer, speaking to Derek Cain and Sarah Blankett. They both looked polished and confident, but David's attention soon shifted to the young man sitting beside them.

"Who's that?" David asked, pointing at the screen.

"That's Ethan," Michael said simply.

David continued watching, his eyes narrowing as Ethan's demeanor shifted on-screen. One moment, he was laughing and bubbly, awkwardly trying to answer James's questions. The next, his entire presence changed. His expression hardened, his posture straightened, and his eyes…

David froze the video, staring at Ethan's eyes. They were cold, empty, and utterly devoid of life.

"Soulless," David muttered, almost to himself.

Michael smiled knowingly. "Keep watching."

David played the video again, watching as Ethan's expression softened, and he returned to his awkward, cheerful self. The contrast was striking, almost unsettling.

When the video ended, Michael reached over and scrolled down to the comments section. He tapped on a specific comment, highlighting it for David.

David read it aloud. "That guy's soulless eyes gave me chills." He scrolled further, noticing similar comments scattered throughout the section. "A lot of people are talking about him."

"Exactly," Michael said, leaning back in his chair. "Nobody cares about Derek or Sarah in that video. They're focused on Ethan."

David set the phone down, his expression thoughtful. "So, what? You think this… nobody can overshadow our two scandal-ridden leads?"

Michael shook his head. "Not overshadow. But he can distract. He can give the audience something else to focus on. Something fresh."

David frowned. "And you think that's enough to save the movie?"

Michael shrugged. "It's not just about saving the movie. It's about controlling the narrative. Think about it: a young, struggling actor finally gets his big break, only to have it overshadowed by his selfish, scandalous co-stars. The media loves an underdog story. The audience loves an underdog story."

David tapped his fingers on the table, his cigar smoldering in the ashtray. "You're putting a lot of faith in this Ethan kid."

"I'm putting faith in the audience," Michael corrected. "They'll eat it up. And even if they don't, it's still better than trying to sell a clean-cut romance with Derek and Sarah at the helm. That ship has sailed."

David sighed, taking another sip of his wine. "You realize this is going to ruffle a lot of feathers, right? The other executives aren't going to like it. And he certainly won't."

Michael's smile faded slightly. "If Derek really had the full support of 'That Man,' do you think this scandal would've gotten out in the first place?"

David didn't respond immediately. He simply stared at Michael, his expression unreadable. Finally, he let out a long breath and nodded.

"Fine," he said. "Let's see where this goes. But if it backfires, you're taking the heat for it."

Michael smiled again, raising his glass. "Deal."

David picked up his own glass and clinked it against Michael's. But as he took another sip of wine, his gaze lingered on the frozen image of Ethan on the phone screen.

"Interesting," he muttered, more to himself than to Michael.