章 462: Chapter 462: The Road to Superstardom
The van rolled to a graceful stop in front of the opulent villa, its doors swinging open to reveal its precious cargo. Workers, moving with deliberate care, shuffled out, cradling wooden crates in their arms.
Under Bruce's watchful eye, they carried the crates into the expansive living room, where the soft glow of the afternoon sun streamed through large windows, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
With meticulous attention, the workers unpacked the crates, revealing a breathtaking snow-white marble statue. Under Bruce's precise instructions, they hoisted the statue, placing it gently on its designated pedestal. The statue, a depiction of an ethereal figure, stood majestically, its smooth lines and superb craftsmanship radiating a lifelike presence.
Lily, her steps light and purposeful, approached one of the workers with a check in hand, ready to settle the bill. Her movements were graceful, a stark contrast to the heavy lifting around her.
Meanwhile, Martin, lounging in a nearby leather armchair, dialed Leonardo, his voice rich with anticipation. "Leonardo, you've got to see this. Your statue, it's finally here."
Leonardo, who had just returned from a New York vacation, walked in with Nicholson. His eyes widened at the sight of the statue. "I haven't even paid yet, and here it is, standing in all its glory."
Nicholson, a smirk playing on his lips, quipped, "You'd better settle your dues, Leonardo. Or you might never leave this place."
Martin, his gaze fixed on the statue, chuckled. "What do you take my home for? A devil's lair?"
Leonardo, ignoring their banter, approached the statue. His experienced eyes scanned every detail, appreciating the fine artistry. As an art aficionado, his expertise was nearly on par with modern artists.
Martin, unbothered by the artistic nuances, turned to business. "Leonardo, discuss the price with Lily's agent. Let's finalize this deal."
Nicholson, meanwhile, answered his phone on speaker, not bothering to step away. "Hey, honey, how are you?"
"The house is breathtaking," Lorraine's voice bubbled with excitement. "Spacious, beautifully decorated. I love it!"
This villa, nestled in Brentwood, was a relic of the former Affleck couple. Post-divorce, it fell into Jennifer's hands. Eager to liquidate assets, it was sold off at a bargain.
Martin, always one step ahead, had people watching Ben Affleck's side. He relayed the news to Nicholson.
Nicholson's voice brimmed with satisfaction. "The original owner dropped seven million on this house. You got it for four. Consider it an early adulthood gift. But don't expect another when you turn twenty-one."
Lorraine, her tone teasing, retorted, "Aren't you going to cover the three million difference, Jack?"
Nicholson, feigning irritation, hung up and turned to Martin. "Family affairs, they never end, do they?"
Martin, pointing to the statue, watched Lily deftly maneuver a carving knife. "Without my guidance, Lily's more trouble than Lorraine could ever be."
Nicholson nodded, adding humorously, "Lorraine wouldn't dream of wielding a knife, let alone studying anatomy to avoid serious harm when stabbing someone."
Lily, overhearing this, shouted from across the room, "I study anatomy for my art, thank you very much!"
Martin and Nicholson exchanged knowing glances, unphased by her protest.
Leonardo, his attention back on the statue, declared, "It's exceptional. I'll take it." He addressed Lily, "Have your agent speak to my investment manager about the price."
Lily's eyes sparkled with triumph. "I'll make the call immediately."
Leonardo strolled over to the wine cabinet, retrieving a bottle and three glasses. As he poured the wine, he playfully chided, "You two could've at least invited me to the unveiling!"
In this luxurious setting, amidst fine art and playful banter, the characters' personalities and relationships came to life, painting a vivid picture of their opulent, intricate world.
Martin casually raised his hand, a smirk playing on his lips. "I'm merely the errand boy here." He gestured towards Nicholson with a dramatic flourish. "This man is the master planner and commander!"
Nicholson, exuding an air of authority, retorted confidently, "There's no role for you to play in this, my friend."
Leonardo, leaning against the wall with a playful grin, chimed in, "You guys are just foot soldiers. We've been hit by the Face Gang. Where's our RPG for a proper comeback?"
Martin, his tone turning serious, replied, "We haven't escalated to full-scale war yet. No RPGs. But if we do, Leonardo, as the core of the Face Gang, you're going to be indispensable."
Leonardo's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Fine, but I call dibs on all the blonde, long-legged, unmarried, and beautiful women. The married ones go to Martin, and the rest to Jack."
Nicholson and Martin simultaneously raised their middle fingers in a gesture of mock offense, their laughter echoing in the room.
The moment was interrupted by Martin's ringing phone. After a brief conversation, he hung up and announced, "Ben's selling his house in Santa Monica. Anyone interested?"
Leonardo shook his head, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "I've got more houses and assets than I can count. Brad Pitt and Ben Affleck always remind me to keep enough liquid cash."
Nicholson, his thoughts drifting to Lorraine, mused, "I might take a set."
Martin sighed dramatically, "Looks like it falls to me then. It's not easy being the good guy, especially when it costs millions."
As Lily entered the room, Martin didn't hesitate. "Lily, help me buy another house, will you?"
After a brief moment of silent tribute for the Affleck brothers, Lily's face lit up. "Martin, once you buy it, can I rent it as my studio?"
Martin, nonchalant, agreed without a second thought. "Sure, pay the rent however you like."
Lily eagerly asked for the real estate agent's details and set off to work, her enthusiasm unmistakable.
She skillfully negotiated with the agent, securing an additional $200,000 off the already low price, and expedited the paperwork with efficiency.
Later in the afternoon, Martin and Bruce headed to the Angel Club for some shooting practice, a routine to maintain their skills. Just as Martin finished an AR magazine, Thomas called. Martin invited him to the club.
More than half an hour later, Thomas arrived, forehead glistening. Martin handed his gun to Bruce and joined Thomas in the rest area.
"What's got you so worked up?" Martin asked.
Thomas, visibly excited, shared, "We've struck a deal with Cartier Men's Watch for an endorsement. The contract's signing in October, with an annual fee of $10 million."
Martin nodded, unsurprised. "And the rest?"
Thomas detailed further, "Cartier will assist in getting you awards like the Oscars or at major European film festivals. They'll cover some PR expenses and network with media resources. If you snag a grand prize, there's an additional $2 million for you."
Martin pondered for a moment before asking, "So, with Coca-Cola and Cadillac having similar terms, plus Cartier, the crew, and agency support, I hardly need to spend my own money for the Oscars, right?"
"That's correct," Thomas confirmed. "This year, The Dark Knight crew is all in for your Oscar bid. Your other endorsements are eager to support too. They can't match the impact of your 'Benjamin Batons' project, though."
Martin calculated silently. The prospects were more than just saving money; winning an award would not only boost his net worth but also bring in sponsorship rewards exceeding $500,000.
For Martin, this Oscar chase was a blend of honor and lucrative opportunities, a tantalizing mix of prestige and profit.
Thomas leaned in, his voice laced with ambition and strategy. "With 'The Dark Knight's' massive success and an Oscar for your role, when we negotiate with Nolan for your next project, a $15 million salary is just our starting point. We might even push for $20 million. Plus, I'm aiming to get you a $10 million share in the post-production profits."
Martin, intrigued, leaned back thoughtfully. "How close am I to being a '20+20' superstar in Hollywood?"
Thomas sighed, balancing honesty with encouragement. "Only a select few actors reach that status, and not every film can support such deals. But let's focus on winning this Oscar first."
Martin, with a hint of regret, said, "If it weren't for a comic book adaptation, I'd have been even more confident about winning Best Actor."
Thomas, pragmatic as ever, countered, "Even snagging Best Supporting Actor would be a huge win. Have you heard about Sean Penn's new movie? It's creating quite a buzz."
"What's it about?" Martin inquired.
"It's called 'Milk,'" Thomas explained. "It's a biopic. Penn plays Harvey Milk, a gay politician who fought for LGBTQ rights and was tragically assassinated."
Martin understood immediately. His portrayal of the Joker paled in comparison to such a powerful, real-life figure.
Thomas continued, "Since 'Brokeback Mountain,' the industry's view on LGBTQ themes has evolved. These stories are no longer taboo; they're actually an advantage in award races."
Martin reflected silently, sensing the shifting tides in Hollywood.
Seeing Martin's reaction, Thomas quickly shifted gears. "I've been turning down such scripts for you."
Martin's gaze was steady on Thomas. "Your next move is to focus on the Oscar campaign. The studio's hired a professional PR team, and you'll need to cooperate fully."
Thomas nodded, eager to assure him. "The agency's all in, too. I've spoken with Ari. He's personally getting involved in the campaign."
He then mentioned another opportunity. "The general elections are coming up. Ari's brother was part of Obama's team. They've invited you to join Obama's campaign events in L.A."
Martin, who had always leaned left since his Atlanta days, considered briefly before agreeing. "Let me know the details."
Thomas then switched to insider updates. "Brad Pitt have reached a settlement with Cadillac, Breitling, and others."
Martin's interest piqued. "What's the compensation amount?"
"The exact figures aren't public, but it totals around $50 million. Brad Pitt's wealth took a hit with bad investments in Fannie Mae stocks. He's been liquidating assets to stay afloat."
Martin pondered, "Do you think he's still bankable for big projects?"
Thomas shook his head. "Not just big projects; even small to mid-sized productions are wary. No insurance company will cover Brad Pitt now."
In this charged atmosphere, filled with the talk of Hollywood politics and the complex interplay of fame and fortune, Martin and Thomas navigated their next moves in a world where success and failure were separated by a thin line of choices and chances.
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