The Dawn of a Revolution

Date: May 10, 2009Time: 9:00 AMLocation: Salt Lake Office, Executive Conference Room, Kolkata

The Salt Lake office was alive with energy. The hum of voices mixed with the soft clicks of keyboards, punctuated by hurried footsteps echoing down glass-walled corridors. But the center of all this commotion was the Executive Conference Room, where Aritra sat, calm and composed, observing his team's frantic preparation with sharp, calculating eyes.

Aritra's laptop displayed the familiar glow of the Legendary System, its dashboard filled with data streams and projections, but his focus today was elsewhere. The agenda was clear—finalizing arrangements for the global press conference that would introduce the Nova One to the world. But beyond the technicalities of the launch, there was a crucial task at hand: securing high-profile faces to endorse their revolutionary product.

Aritra's fingers tapped rhythmically on the polished mahogany table as his core team gathered around. Ishita, poised and efficient, carried a tablet filled with schedules and notes. Arnav slouched slightly in his chair, his usual casual demeanor masking a sharp mind, while Rajat sifted through financial reports with a furrowed brow. At the head of the table, opposite Aritra, sat the newly appointed CEO, Siddharth Sen, his charisma and corporate experience making him the perfect face for the company.

Without wasting time, Aritra's voice cut through the buzz of conversation. "It's time to finalize our endorsements. Ishita, have you secured the meetings?"

"Yes," she replied promptly. "We have virtual conferences lined up with Aamir Khan's team for India, Johnny Depp's representatives for the U.S., and Zhang Ziyi's agency from China."

Aritra nodded, his face unreadable. "Good. Let's not waste time convincing them of the vision. Focus on the numbers. That's what they're here for."

Rajat smirked slightly. "So, it's all about the money, huh?"

Aritra's gaze flicked toward him, sharp as a blade. "For them? Yes. For us? It's about domination."

The First Call: Aamir Khan's Team

The conference room lights dimmed slightly as the large screen flickered to life. On the screen appeared Aamir Khan's manager, dressed in a crisp suit with an expression of polite disinterest, the kind reserved for business dealings that were strictly transactional. Aamir himself joined a moment later, his presence magnetic even through a screen, though his eyes held none of the excitement Aritra often inspired in others—they were sharp, assessing, calculating.

Aritra leaned forward slightly, his hands clasped on the table. "Mr. Khan, thank you for joining us."

Aamir offered a courteous smile, his tone professional. "I'm always open to opportunities, especially the well-paying kind. Ishita mentioned something about a global launch?"

Straight to the point.

Without any unnecessary buildup, Aritra gestured to Ishita, who initiated the presentation. The Nova One prototype appeared on screen, its sleek design rotating slowly as technical specifications scrolled beside it. The presentation was flawless—polished visuals, cutting-edge tech—but Aamir's expression remained unchanged.

When the pitch concluded, Aamir leaned back, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "It's impressive. No doubt about that. But let's talk about the real question—what's in it for me?"

Aritra didn't blink. "A partnership worth $3 million USD upfront, with additional performance bonuses based on market penetration in India."

Now Aamir's interest sparked—not for the product, but for the figure. His manager glanced at him, silently communicating approval.

"Alright," Aamir said with a shrug. "For that number, I can be very convincing."

Aritra nodded slightly, unaffected. "We don't need convincing. We just need your face."

The deal was sealed within minutes.

The Second Call: Johnny Depp's Team

Later that afternoon, the atmosphere shifted. The second call connected to Johnny Depp's team in Los Angeles. The screen came to life, revealing Johnny himself, lounging comfortably, his signature fedora tilted slightly, a faint smirk playing on his lips. His agent sat beside him, businesslike and direct.

"So," Johnny drawled, his voice smooth, "what's this about a phone that's supposed to change the world?"

Aritra kept his tone cool and professional. "It's about business. We want your face associated with the Nova One."

Johnny chuckled, sipping from a glass of something amber. "And I suppose there's a nice paycheck attached to that?"

"$5 million upfront, with additional royalties if we hit our sales targets in the U.S.," Ishita replied crisply.

Johnny's eyebrows lifted slightly, his interest piqued. "Well, I do like phones. And I like money even more."

The conversation continued, peppered with light banter, but the core was clear—Johnny wasn't here for the product. He was here for the paycheck.

By the end of the call, he leaned forward, giving a casual nod. "Sure, why not? I'll smile, I'll pose, I'll even say something dramatic for the commercials."

Aritra's only response was a curt nod. The deal was done.

The Final Call: Zhang Ziyi's Team

As night settled over Kolkata, the final meeting connected Aritra's team to Beijing. The call was crisp, formal, and efficient, much like Zhang Ziyi herself. She appeared on screen, her beauty striking, her expression impeccably composed. Her team was all business, their questions precise and focused.

After the presentation—delivered with the same clinical efficiency as before—her agent cut straight to the point.

"She's interested, provided the compensation matches her status."

Aritra didn't hesitate. "$4 million upfront, plus performance-based incentives for the Chinese market."

Zhang Ziyi exchanged a glance with her agent, then spoke directly for the first time. "I assume you'll handle the publicity?"

"We'll handle everything," Aritra replied coolly. "You just show up."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Then we have a deal."

Aftermath of the Deals

When the last call ended, Aritra remained seated, staring at the now-blank screen. Around him, the team exhaled collectively, the tension finally breaking.

Rajat leaned back, stretching. "Well, that was easy. Money really does talk."

Ishita began organizing her notes, her tone brisk. "The contracts will be finalized by tomorrow. The press conference is officially set."

Siddharth, standing near the window, turned to Aritra. "You don't seem excited."

Aritra's gaze was distant, his mind already ten steps ahead. "I'm not paying for excitement. I'm paying for attention."

Because, in the end, it didn't matter why they joined. All that mattered was that the world would be watching.