The Greatest Showman #1391 - Holding Authority
Christian swallowed hard, his guilt barely concealed. He had underestimated the situation, assuming victory was assured. He had been careless. Now, everything had unraveled in the blink of an eye, and there was no turning back. He had miscalculated, and Diesel was livid.
Christian steadied himself. "This time, Disney played dirty. They switched players at the last moment. They owe us an explanation, and they owe us a favor. I swear, they'll have to make an equivalent exchange. I won't let this go. Disney has a major commercial project in the works—"
Diesel cut him off sharply, his voice slicing through the air. "I asked you—what the hell did you mean by what you just said?"
Christian hesitated but pressed forward. "We can demand a leading role. A top-tier project. One with a budget over $150 million. Not just any role—the protagonist. Disney won't be able to refuse. Otherwise—"
"Otherwise, what?" Diesel's voice was a low growl. His clenched jaw and narrowed eyes exuded barely restrained fury.
Christian faltered. What leverage did they actually have over Disney? What real power did they wield to force Disney's hand? The answer was painfully clear—none.
Without warning, Diesel lashed out, kicking the coffee table with brutal force. The impact sent the table crashing forward, slamming into Christian's knee. Pain shot through his leg, forcing him to his feet with a grunt of agony. But his movement was awkward, his legs caught between the table and the couch. He tumbled, crashing down in an undignified heap.
"You're insane!" Christian roared, his own temper igniting.
Diesel, unfazed, loomed over him. "I said—what the hell did you mean?"
Christian, now seething, spat out the truth. "You've been fired! The 'Guardians of the Galaxy' role is gone! Disney pulled out at the last second!"
A moment of silence. Then—
"F***!" Diesel exploded, flipping the coffee table forward again. Christian, still reeling from the pain, barely had time to react before Diesel loomed closer, eyes blazing with unchecked rage.
"You lunatic!" Christian snarled. "You want to be pissed off? Be pissed at Disney! Not at me! You're a coward—taking it out on me instead of fighting them!"
Diesel's breathing was ragged. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. His face was a mask of fury, but Christian wasn't backing down.
"You know that's not the point," Diesel hissed.
Christian, grimacing from the pain, pressed on. "Paul took your role. He's the new voice of Groot. And there's talk that Renly is negotiating another deal with Disney—maybe an animated project, maybe a low-budget comedy."
Diesel stiffened. "That son of a bitch! It's him! It's always him! If it weren't for him meddling behind the scenes, this would've never happened! That bastard must've sold his soul to get in with Bob Iger!"
The stream of expletives that followed was vile, unrelenting. Christian considered stopping him—badmouthing Disney's CEO was dangerous—but then he thought better of it. Let Diesel rant. Let him vent. If this was how he wanted to handle the situation, so be it.
Instead, Christian discreetly reached for his phone, ready to record the meltdown.
But Diesel wasn't an idiot. He saw the movement and reacted instantly.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Diesel snatched the phone and, without hesitation, snapped it in half. The device cracked under his grip before being hurled into the wall.
"Vin Diesel!" Christian bellowed.
For years, Christian had been one of the most formidable agents at United Elite. He was used to holding the upper hand in negotiations. Today, he had taken a softer approach out of guilt. He had miscalculated.
But Diesel had gone too far.
Christian slammed his hands on the overturned table and stood up, shaking with rage. "Who the hell do you think you're taking your anger out on? Me? I'm the reason you even had a shot at 'Guardians of the Galaxy' in the first place! Do you even realize how much your career has been declining while your ego keeps inflating? Every time someone doesn't kiss your ass, you try to shut them down! Don't you see the problem?"
"My fault? MY fault?" Diesel's voice dripped with venom. "Didn't you tell me to stay committed to 'Fast and Furious'? Didn't you say action stars are a dying breed? Because of you, my roles have dried up! Because of YOU, I lost my Marvel gig! And what's your plan now? What the hell are you going to do about it?" He advanced on Christian, his broad frame casting a menacing shadow.
Christian, though physically outmatched, held his ground. "Why the hell do you keep going after Renly? He's not your competition! You're an action star! He's an artist! He's never stood in your way—until now. So what the hell did you do to piss him off?"
Diesel said nothing.
Christian pressed further. "You think you can take on Renly? Fine! Tell me how! You want Disney to choose between you and him? You think they'll pick you? Your market value doesn't even come close to his! And don't forget Renly and Paul's friendship. Why do you think Paul got your role? Why do you think Dwayne and Jason can't stand you? What exactly are you trying to prove?"
Christian's words hit like a wrecking ball. Diesel faltered.
"You want a fight? Then tell me—how do we fight Renly? Are you going to have someone break his legs? Will that bring your role back? Huh? Tell me!" Christian was shouting now, his frustration spilling over. "Do you even realize what you've done? Renly never interfered in studio politics. But this time, he made a move against you. Why? Because you pushed him too far! You pissed off the one guy in Hollywood you shouldn't have!"
A tense silence filled the room.
"Now what? What's your next move? What's Renly's next move? What's Disney's next move?" Christian's voice was hoarse from yelling. "You're not just risking your career, Diesel. You're risking mine. You're risking the entire damn agency. So tell me, Vin—how the hell do you plan to fix this?"
Diesel's breathing was ragged. He opened his mouth to respond—but no words came.
Because he didn't have an answer.
And, deep down, he knew Christian was right.