I am Hollywood

[Chapter 830: You Really Did It On Purpose]

"Eric, why would you do something that cuts off your own revenue stream? If Digital Domain continued with an open collaboration strategy, given the impact of Titanic, doubling our revenue in the coming years wouldn't be an issue. And you know, with the current pace of technological development, it won't take long for other effects companies to catch up," Michael Eisner pondered for a moment before speaking again.

Eric lifted his head with a peculiar smile. "Michael, that's exactly what I want over these next few years. Besides, while others may want to catch up, Digital Domain won't be sitting idle waiting for them."

"But I really don't think you need to do this," Michael Eisner replied. "You see, with Titanic's box office included, Firefly Productions' total box office will reach $2 billion this year, capturing over 30% market share. This should definitely be the pinnacle of a Hollywood studio."

"No, Michael, you're just accustomed to the coexistence of the seven major Hollywood studios, so you think this is the peak state for a Hollywood major. But if we break free from that thought, why can't it be 50%, 60%, 70%, or even more? In other industries, that's not uncommon. So, why not in Hollywood?"

When Michael heard Eric's words, a look of slight shock appeared on his face. He hadn't expected Eric to have such ambitions. If anyone else had said something like that, Michael would have laughed immediately. But it was Eric -- the young man who had been making waves in Hollywood for the last few years. He had achieved what many deemed impossible countless times.

However, after a short moment of astonishment, Michael Eisner shook his head. "Eric, Hollywood is different from other industries. Being a creative industry, the human factor is crucial here. Though many say Hollywood is the world's movie factory, you can never gather all the great filmmakers under one roof to work in your 'factory.' Even if Firefly manages to push out the other six major Hollywood studios, as long as you can't meet all filmmakers' needs, they will inevitably create new production companies to compete against Firefly, just as Chaplin's United Artists, Howard Hughes's RKO, and now Spielberg's Amblin."

Eric chuckled. "Michael, I don't know what the future holds for Amblin, but the first two companies you mentioned no longer exist. To me, as long as I maintain a sufficient advantage for Firefly, it's a matter of methodically taking down the old studios one by one."

Michael Eisner raised an eyebrow, hesitantly asking, "You mean, take them down?"

"Exactly, take them down," Eric said as he took a bite of the crab cake in front of him. "The food here is quite good; maybe I'll come here more often."

"Oh, then you'll certainly never have to worry about running out of seats," Michael Eisner forced a smile, still mulling over Eric's recent comments.

If Firefly wanted to eliminate all the other Hollywood studios, that would be unrealistic. But if it gradually merged with them as Eric suggested, that possibility couldn't be entirely dismissed. However, Michael Eisner wasn't overly pessimistic either. At fifty-five, he figured maybe Firefly could pull it off in another ten or even twenty years, but by then, he'd surely be retired and everything would no longer concern him. For now, he simply wanted to run Universal Pictures well. This somewhat disheartening thought made Michael Eisner feel a little discouraged. They both dropped the movie discussion and casually commented on the restaurant food and other trivial topics.

Eric and Michael Eisner ultimately held no personal grudges against each other. Moreover, it was Firefly that had used the opportunity of acquiring Disney to push Michael Eisner out of Disney. If there was any vendetta, it was definitely Michael's grudge against Eric, and since the other party didn't show it, Eric wouldn't either.

After skipping the topic of Digital Domain, their dinner was rather relaxed and enjoyable, continuing until ten o'clock when they each parted ways.

...

As Eric watched Michael Eisner's car drive away, he got into his own vehicle. It was late, and Eric decided not to rush back to Liberty City Manor, instructing his driver to head to the top of Beverly Hills.

Arriving at the mansion of Elisabeth and Julia, Eric dismissed the driver, rang the doorbell, and a voice inquired through the intercom. Eric responded, and the door opened shortly thereafter.

Julia appeared with her flowing brown hair, wearing a long, light yellow, form-fitting sweater, exposing her long legs, and stepped lazily in front of Eric, her eyes sparkling as she softly called out, "Eric, you're here."

"Yeah," Eric replied with a smile, reaching out, "Aren't you cold dressed like that?"

Los Angeles in February could still be a bit chilly at night.

Julia wrapped her arms around Eric's waist and affectionately kissed his cheek. ""It's not cold at all; I'm not outside."

Eric embraced Julia, planning to let go, but she had already rested her chin on his shoulder, her long legs entwined around him, hanging from him.

"Come on, you're acting just like Drew," Eric laughed, shutting the door behind him, playfully lifting Julia's light body and joking, "Seemed like you've put on some weight."

Julia playfully mouthed Eric's neck, whispering tenderly, "A little extra padding makes for a better experience. Eric, you could try now."

"Uh, I'm a bit cold. Let's head inside," Eric said, nearly losing his composure. He patted Julia, seeing she had no intention of letting go, so he carried her towards the villa.

Even though it was already past ten, the lights in the villa were still bright. Eric knew Elisabeth was also a night owl; most successful people tended to be.

The living room had the TV on with the volume low. Elisabeth was curled up on the couch, holding a thick folder, wearing a form-fitting sweater similar to Julia's. Upon seeing Eric enter carrying Julia, she rolled her eyes. "Do you really need to be in such a hurry?"

Eric offered no explanation, playfully setting Julia down on the sofa and sat beside Elisabeth, asking, "What are you watching?"

"Some project proposals," Elisabeth said, not holding back, handing him a stack of papers. "Here, help me check them out and pick one or two."

Eric took the papers, flipped through them, grinning, "If I pick something, can I take it?"

Elisabeth replied curtly, "Nope."

Julia, who had been unceremoniously dropped on the single couch, sidled up to Eric, sitting close to him.

Noticing Elisabeth was buried in the material, Eric refrained from making jokes. Instead, he casually placed Julia's long legs over his lap while glancing through the documents.

Just glancing at the first document title made Eric raise an eyebrow. After patiently reading through the project summary and script synopsis, he commented, "The English Patient, this project is good and suitable for Miramax to do as an Oscar contender."

Elisabeth turned her head to glance, noting Eric's hand gently caressing Julia's thigh, she scoffed, rolling her eyes: "This is a project that Harvey had his eyes on last year. To avoid competing with Shakespeare in Love for the Oscars, it got pushed to this year. Of course, it's suitable for Miramax."

Eric nodded, "Lucky it wasn't released this year; otherwise, that would be a shame."

In Eric's view, The English Patient was indeed better and had a deeper artistic connotation than Shakespeare in Love. If it had been pitted against Titanic this year, it would have indeed been unfortunate.

Elisabeth certainly understood what Eric was getting at. Thinking about the global sensation that Titanic had become, she suddenly recalled some details from the previous year and turned to Eric, saying, "You definitely did that on purpose."

That comment threw Eric off completely, and he looked puzzled.

"You know, when you mentioned having Fox invest $50 million into Titanic," Elisabeth clarified.

Eric instantly remembered. He had indeed done it deliberately, just to poke fun at Elisabeth's own family patriarch, as that investment collaboration had been personally vetoed by Murdoch.

Now, even though Titanic's box office numbers showed no signs of slowing down, after this week, Firefly would likely be able to recoup the initial production cost of $215 million. By the end of February, all production and distribution costs would be back, and after that, Titanic would simply contribute pure profit to Firefly.

Currently, no box office prediction agency could estimate where Titanic's global box office could go, but they realized one thing: the profit Titanic brought to Firefly would far exceed the original total investment of $265 million. There were even some media predictions that if Titanic became the highest-grossing film in North America and globally, it could generate no less than $1 billion in profit just from box offices, videos, DVDs, and various merchandise. That amount could almost surpass the total profits of most studios in a year.

However, looking at Elisabeth's feline gaze fixed on him, Eric had no intention of admitting anything.

But Elisabeth, noticing Eric's brief hesitation, suddenly sprang at him like an annoyed kitten, shoving Julia aside and leaping onto Eric, grabbing his shirt collar. "You jerk! You really did do it on purpose."

With a smile he couldn't suppress, Eric raised both hands in surrender, determined not to admit it. "Liz, calm down! I'm not a psychic. How could I possibly know how Titanic's box office would do? Didn't you see how anxious I was about it a while back?"

Hearing Eric's protest, Julia, awkwardly shoved to the side, watched as Elisabeth seemed ready to tear Eric in half, and couldn't help but feel a bit thrilled and chimed in, "Yeah, yeah."

"Shut up," Elisabeth shot Julia a glare, then turned her attention back to Eric: "You did this on purpose! Now look, are you feeling pretty smug about it?"

"I swear to God..."

"Psh, you don't even believe in God," Elisabeth shot back, her small hands unfastening a few buttons of Eric's shirt collar.

Just as Eric was about to continue his protest, noticing Elisabeth leaning down, he quickly added, "Don't bite... ah."

Before he could stop her, an excruciating pain shot through his shoulder.

Julia lounged beside them, watching Elisabeth's small white teeth clamping down on Eric's shoulder, feeling a mix of envy and excitement. Her heart raced, and she couldn't help but reach out to touch, only to retract her hand quickly, seeing a trace of blood appear on her fingertip, instantly feeling a pang of sympathy. "Liz, stop! He's bleeding."

Initially riled up, Elisabeth looked at Eric in alarm. Upon seeing the two distinct bite marks on his shoulder oozing blood, she panicked and pressed her hand against it. "Eric, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to."

Eric inhaled sharply, glancing at the obvious bite marks on his shoulder. It had only broken the skin a little and wasn't severe. Seeing Elisabeth's apologetic expression, which almost brought her to tears, he couldn't feel angry. He nodded earnestly. "It's okay. I know you didn't mean it."

Thinking back to their earlier argument, upon hearing Eric's words, Elisabeth forced a smile but didn't say anything further. She took the tissue Julia offered and dabbed at Eric's bleeding shoulder. "Do you need me to get some antiseptic?"

Eric chuckled. "I hear saliva works as a disinfectant."

Elisabeth rolled her eyes and moved aside, addressing Julia, "You go ahead."

Julia immediately snuggled closer to Eric, and he quickly obstructed her. "Alright, alright! I was just joking! Sit still! No fooling around. Keep your tongue in; it looks terrible."

Julia giggled, seeing herself take the position Elisabeth had just vacated, refusing to leave Eric's lap. She affectionately leaned in to kiss Eric's face several times, then sat up, playfully pulling off her long, form-fitting sweater. Underneath, she wore nothing but a pure white thong, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Elisabeth watched Julia's actions, clearly displeased. "Hey! I just changed the couch covers yesterday! Can't you go to the bedroom?"

In response, Eric forcefully wrapped an arm around Elisabeth and said, "Take off your sweater, too! I want to see."

The living room lights seemed to dim as soft noises filled the air, accompanied by a half-serious, half-playful female murmur: "You are such a troublemaker, bastard, ah."

*****

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