He packed a few clothes, two manuscripts, and a pen into a light gray canvas backpack, deciding to leave everything else behind. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he took one last glance at the small room, feeling no attachment to it.
After all, this was a mental hospital.
The head nurse at the door looked at the handsome young man in front of her, who was slightly dazed. She felt a mix of regret and happiness as she softly said, "Simon, do you want to say goodbye to everyone?"
He was now Simon, Simon Westeros.
The first name stayed the same.
The surname, however, had been changed a month ago.
He didn't quite like the surname of this body originally and was looking forward to a fresh start.
Before his rebirth, he had been watching "Game of Thrones," and the tumultuous events on the continent of Westeros had captivated him. Given his own fantastical experiences now, he impulsively chose 'Westeros' as his new surname.
By current calculations, the "Game of Thrones" novel wouldn't be released until 1996, ten years later. As for what George Martin might name his new continent in the future, that was no longer his concern.
Hearing the nurse's words, Simon snapped back to reality and shook his head, "No need."
They left the ward and went to Dr. Henry Chapman's office. Dr. Chapman was Simon's psychiatrist, a decent middle-aged man. In the office was also a middle-aged white man wearing glasses, introducing himself as John from Stanford University, here to assist Simon with his discharge procedures.
Simon had been admitted to this mental hospital nine months ago.
The incident had caused a bit of a stir at the time.
A motivational story of a young man, who grew up in a children's home and got into Stanford University with a full scholarship at just seventeen. Then, less than two months into his studies, he suddenly went mad.
Severe violent schizophrenia.
That was the diagnosis Dr. Chapman wrote in Simon's medical record.
The truth was, suddenly having twelve souls in a young body, how could he not go mad?
The shattered memories showed a young man, under the conflict of consciousness, furiously wrecking an entire reading room in the Stanford University library, injuring several people before being tied up and sent to this mental hospital in the southern suburbs of San Francisco.
Rewinding further.
He was actually a director from across the ocean, having just completed his first movie, which was fairly successful at the box office. His company planned to negotiate a deal with Universal Studios, one of the big six Hollywood studios, and included him in the team traveling to Los Angeles for the talks, essentially a business trip.
The booming movie market on the mainland had all of Hollywood eager for business, and the negotiations were naturally successful.
After sealing the deal, executives from Universal Studios invited the company team to a media industry gathering in Sun Valley, Idaho. Along with many other Hollywood filmmakers, more than twenty people boarded a Boeing 737 flying out of Los Angeles.
However, less than half an hour after takeoff, the 737's engine failed, and it crashed while attempting an emergency landing at San Francisco Airport.
Regaining consciousness, although still within San Francisco County, he found himself back in 1985, and it seemed that many consciousnesses were bound within a young body, followed by nine long months in the mental hospital.
He didn't know how he managed to gain control over this body.
Or perhaps because he was the only 'foreigner' among those consciousnesses. Before the crash, he had just left the luxurious front cabin where the Universal executives and company team were, to discuss film production issues in the rear cabin with Hollywood colleagues.
Or perhaps, because of his unwillingness to give up. During those long nine months, he could feel the original young man's strong unwillingness to accept his fate; so hard to grow up and just as life was starting to take off, it was about to crash. He felt the same, having worked so hard for so many years, just to see everything turn to ashes in an instant.
Regardless, he eventually became the master of this body, with the other dozen consciousnesses sinking into deep silence.
However, the memories of those people remained, although fragmented, they were a vast treasure to him.
At the time, everyone in the plane's rear cabin were elites from the Hollywood movie industry, top screenwriters, cinematographers, editors, composers, etc., who were actually crew members of a blockbuster under Universal Studios. The director and lead actor were also on the plane, invited to the front cabin, and it was unknown who survived.
After completing the discharge procedures, Simon bid farewell to Dr. Chapman and the others, then boarded John's car with his simple luggage.
It was evident that John was not fond of today's task, as he dropped Simon off at the nearby Watsonville bus station, fulfilling the last duty owed by Stanford University before
hurriedly driving away.
During the month leading up to his discharge, Dr. Chapman had many discussions with Simon about his future plans.
Returning to Stanford was an option, as Simon's major in computer science was still Stanford's hottest field, and coming from thirty years in the future, he knew well the immense wealth created by Stanford computer science students in the upcoming internet boom.
However, Simon didn't hesitate much before deciding to drop out.
He was already a director, and with the memories of over a dozen Hollywood elites in his mind, he was essentially a top-tier movie crew by himself. With such resources, there was no reason not to make a name for himself in Hollywood.
As for the future internet wave, watching opportunities slip by was not Simon's style. If he could make it big, he would naturally be able to participate in the wealth feast brought by the technological revolution as an investor.
Standing at the Watsonville bus station near California Highway 1, Simon understood he had a long road ahead.
He was now just a penniless young man, somewhat grateful that his personal situation qualified him for free federal health insurance. Otherwise, after nine months of treatment, Simon would undoubtedly be burdened with a medical bill hefty enough to make him question life itself.
In the USA, for ordinary people without insurance, seeking medical care was an absolute disaster.
Purchasing a bus ticket to Los Angeles, Simon checked his wallet during the wait for the bus; he had $198 left, earned from a summer job before starting school the previous year.
The name change process had also cost over $200, mainly for a name change announcement in a local newspaper in Watsonville, a necessary procedure in the USA, followed by the reapplication for a driver's license. American driver's licenses, which are relatively easy and cheap to obtain, serve almost as an identity card. Thus, although he couldn't afford a car, Simon had obtained his license at sixteen.
According to the price information in his mind, the money he had could sustain his basic living needs for about a week.
That was enough.
Finding a job in Los Angeles that could cover his living expenses in a week was an easy task. The original owner of this body had been self-reliant since the age of thirteen, with a full set of skills for various odd jobs.
Thinking about this, Simon even felt a slight sadness. Although the memories were incomplete, he could empathize with the awe-inspiring resilience of the original child. The memories of 'Simon' included being sent to a children's home in San Jose at the age of six, a stubborn little creature who fiercely refused many adoption offers from foster families, starting to fend for himself at thirteen.
With these thoughts, Simon couldn't help but attempt to trace back memories from before the age of six, but found only more fragmented images that he couldn't piece together.
Then.
Snapping out of his scattered thoughts.
Simon was surprised to find tears sliding down his cheeks.
Nearby, a mother and son waiting for the bus eyed him strangely, the young mother pulling her four or five-year-old son a bit further away.
Wiping the tears from his face awkwardly, Simon realized that some beleaguered soul, even though it had completely lost control over this body, still stubbornly refused to recall certain experiences, so stubborn that even though it had lost consciousness, it firmly closed its heart to strangers.
Let it be, then.
And now, having obtained this body, he would definitely live this life more brilliantly than anyone else, he silently promised to some soul.
Perhaps that consciousness heard his promise, as Simon felt his emotions gradually stabilize.
After about half an hour of waiting at the simple platform, a bus finally stopped by the roadside; it was a through bus from downtown San Francisco.
Simon stepped aside to let the mother and son board first, then followed.
The bus was nearly full. Simon walked down the aisle to the back, eventually finding a spot in the second to last row. A woman wearing a plaid shirt, with long brown hair covering most of her face, was seated on the inner side, looking down at a thick stack of A4 paper bound together, holding a pen.
Stowing his backpack on the luggage rack, Simon sat down in the aisle seat.
Feeling the movement beside her, the woman looked up, nodded politely at Simon, then returned her gaze to her manuscript.
Simon also nodded in response, his expression slightly surprised—he recognized her.
To be precise, Simon knew the woman sitting beside him, but she clearly couldn't recognize him.
Katherine Bigelow.
The first female director in Hollywood history to win an Academy Award for Best Director. This achievement alone was enough to make her a figure in film history.
Alguien sabe como traducir capitulos sin que webnovel te los arruine?
cuando los subo se les agrega un monton de etiquetas de html
Simon first became acquainted with the Hollywood director Kathryn Bigelow after her success with "The Hurt Locker" in 2010, which won the Oscar for Best Picture.
His initial impression of Kathryn Bigelow was her appearance. At the 2010 Oscars, wearing a linen-colored silk gown, Kathryn appeared only about thirty years old, her figure and aura overshadowing most actresses on the red carpet.
However, Kathryn Bigelow was actually born in 1951. Even in the present year of 1986, she was already 35 years old.
Simon could only marvel that the world never lacked beings who could resist the ravages of time.
Then, there were her films.
After that year's Oscars, Simon made it a point to watch several of Kathryn Bigelow's movies.
To be fair, most of her films were mediocre, but the rough, totemic quality of her work, like ancient stone carvings, left a deep impression. It seemed she used her distinctly masculine cinematic language to tell audiences that what men could do, she could do, and what men couldn't do, she could still accomplish.
Simon even felt that the gender assertiveness Kathryn Bigelow exhibited through her films bordered on obsession.
The bus resumed its journey, heading south along California Highway One.
After a brief nod, Kathryn returned all her attention to the manuscript in front of her. Simon, curious, glanced at it and judged from the layout that it was likely a screenplay. He refrained from disturbing her.
Over an hour passed this way until Kathryn turned the last page of her manuscript. Only then did Simon speak up, asking, "Is that a screenplay?"
Women often have sharp instincts. During her reading, Kathryn had felt the young man beside her glancing her way from time to time. As a beautiful woman, she was used to being approached and thought little of it.
However, since he had not disturbed her until she finished, Kathryn felt a slight fondness for him and nodded with a smile, "Yes."
Despite her response, Kathryn wasn't inclined to engage in much conversation.
The young man, although handsome and more mature than his peers, was clearly still just a teenager. She couldn't help but think her friends would laugh if they knew a boy this young was trying to chat her up.
As she was about to turn her gaze out the window to politely disengage, Simon continued, "Actually, I have a screenplay too. Maybe we could swap and read each other's to pass the time. It's still a few hours to Los Angeles."
Saying this, Simon quickly stood up, retrieved a manuscript from his backpack on the overhead rack, and showed it to Kathryn.
Kathryn was surprised by Simon's unexpected proposal but still categorized his action as an attempt at making conversation. She was about to decline outright when she glanced at the title of Simon's screenplay and her curiosity piqued, she asked, "The Butterfly Effect, what does that mean?"
"This was a hypothetical example used by Edward Lorenz, a meteorology professor at MIT, to describe his theory," Simon explained, handing over the manuscript. "Professor Lorenz suggested that the flapping of a butterfly's wings in the Amazon basin in South America could set off a chain reaction of atmospheric events leading to a tornado in Texas."
Kathryn listened to Simon's explanation and shook her head, "A butterfly causing a tornado? How is that possible?"
Simon replied, "Professor Lorenz was using it to illustrate how a small variable could have a massive impact on a system. And actually, I think it's quite possible; we just can't prove it yet."
Kathryn hummed softly, not one to argue, and found herself holding the script titled "The Butterfly Effect," intrigued, she opened it.
Feeling the young man's eyes on her, she remembered his earlier words and hesitated but then handed over her own script.
It was just as he said, a way to pass the time.
Kathryn quickly skimmed the first few pages of the script in her hands, then flipped through more, confirming something.
The entire script, including the cover title, was handwritten in a print-like neat English font. This surprised her again and made her glance at Simon, who had shifted his attention to his own manuscript. In an era when typewriters were common office tools, such patience to handwrite over a hundred pages of a script—and do so beautifully—was rare.
Unaware of Kathryn's thoughts, Simon's handwritten script was a necessity born of circumstance; living in a mental hospital, even if he were allowed a typewriter, he couldn't afford one.
As Simon opened Kathryn's script, he recognized it as her directorial debut, "Near Dark." He had come across a synopsis of the film after "The Hurt Locker" won its award but had never watched the movie.
Delving deeper into the reading, Simon quickly grasped the gist of the story.
A young farmer from Oklahoma named Caleb falls in love with
Mae, who is actually a vampire and impulsively turns Caleb into one as well.
Kidnapped by Mae's vampire associates, Caleb is forced to wander the earth, immortal yet disillusioned, seeking a way out while his father and sister, left behind, tirelessly search for him.
Meanwhile, after finishing the last page of her script, Kathryn looked up and saw Simon methodically flipping through her own script, feeling a sudden impulse to snatch it back from him.
Although she didn't like the overly pessimistic undertone of "The Butterfly Effect," she had to admit that its ingenious, tightly-knit plot was far superior to "Near Dark," which was merely a simple love story cloaked in vampirism, riddled with plot holes even she couldn't fix.
Quietly waiting for Simon to finish, Kathryn couldn't help but ask in an almost consultative tone, "What do you think?"
Simon pondered a moment and said, "I really liked the scene where Caleb kneels before Mae to drink blood from her wrist. It has an ethically transgressive feel, probably inspired by the image of a lamb nursing, which will surely be poignant on screen."
Kathryn was surprised by Simon's detailed response. While "Near Dark" was not entirely her writing, the scene Simon described was her creation. Many moviegoers tend to overinterpret a film beyond the director's intent, but Simon's understanding matched her vision perfectly. Coming from an art background, she often incorporated symbolic imagery into her scripts.
"So," she hesitated before asking directly, "do you think there's anything that could be improved in the script?"
Simon was taken aback by her question but quickly responded, "Perhaps, changing the farm to a ranch might work. There are many scenes set on the farm in the script, but visually, a ranch covered in meadows would be more picturesque."
Kathryn considered this and then asked, "What about the ending, where Caleb and Mae turn back into humans? Do you have a better approach for that?"
The plot of "Near Dark" where the protagonists revert to human form through a blood transfusion was indeed far-fetched.
However, Simon shook his head, "You've probably revised this script many times already, right? If it were changeable, I wouldn't be seeing this plot now. There's really no way to change it without overturning the entire second half of the script, which would be a different story altogether."
Kathryn nodded, understanding Simon's point but still appearing somewhat disappointed.
Seeing her expression, Simon added, "Actually, there is one more thing that could be tweaked."
Kathryn looked up again, "Oh?"
"The male lead's name," Simon said with a smile. "Did you know? Caleb comes from Hebrew, meaning 'fierce dog.' It's a bit too rustic. Perhaps changing it would be better."
Kathryn caught on to his joking tone and smiled back, "You know Hebrew, then?"
"Yes, quite fluently. So, I'm bound to do very well in Hollywood."
Hebrew is the ethnic language of Jews, and as it is well known, Hollywood is dominated by Jews. Being fluent in Hebrew would definitely endear Simon to many in Hollywood's Jewish community.
In fact, thanks to the memories of the twelve others he inherited, not only did Simon know Hebrew, but his English and Mandarin were even more proficient, and he also spoke German, French, and Spanish, covering the world's major languages. Even if he chose to be a translator, he would be among the elite.
Kathryn sensed Simon's shift in topic, slightly rolling her eyes internally, yet finding the young man evasive in critiquing her script. Perhaps compared to his "The Butterfly Effect," "Near Dark" really wasn't much to talk about.
Simon wasn't reluctant to offer more suggestions; he was quite familiar with the strengths and weaknesses of Kathryn's works.
The issue was, they were still strangers. Should he advise her to tone down the aggressive gender themes in her works, to embrace a more nuanced female perspective?
How would he know whether a beautiful woman's film lacked delicacy?
Guessing?
That would give too much away.
However, Kathryn wasn't one to press, and she casually followed Simon's earlier topic, "What do you think would be a better name for Caleb?"
"Simon, how about that?"
Kathryn was puzzled, "Simon? Is there something special about that name?"
Simon extended his hand with a smile, "Simon Westeros, ma'am. May I know your name?"
Realizing it was his own name, Kathryn smiled and introduced herself while shaking his hand, "Kathryn Bigelow."
She then asked curiously, "Westeros, that's a rare surname. You know Hebrew, so is it a Jewish surname?"
"No," Simon shook his head, "it's just my surname."
Westeros was a term coined by George Martin, meant to appear in his books a decade later.
So, Simon was undoubtedly the only 'Westeros' in the world at that moment.
Kathryn could sense a subtle pride in Simon's voice, but it didn't bother her.
He had created a screenplay like "The Butterfly Effect," could casually discuss a professor's theory from MIT, and mastered an uncommon language like Hebrew. A young man of such caliber had every right to be proud.
Alguien sabe como traducir capitulos sin que webnovel te los arruine?
cuando los subo se les agrega un monton de etiquetas de html
Comentário de parágrafo
O comentário de parágrafo agora está disponível na Web! Passe o mouse sobre qualquer parágrafo e clique no ícone para adicionar seu comentário.
Além disso, você sempre pode desativá-lo/ativá-lo em Configurações.
Entendi