DOS Ch-342

I flipped through a business magazine as I waited patiently for my flight.

“Who would’ve thought that Mr. Troy Armitage would be waiting for his flight just like any other normal person?”

I turned toward my assistant with a raised eyebrow. “You’re saying that as if it’s my fault my private jet failed a safety inspection at the last moment and had to be grounded because of it. Or that all the other charter planes in the area were already booked today.”

“You could’ve waited for two more days in Malta,” he said.

I shook my head. “Nope. I want to go home as soon as possible, and I already have to make a detour in London. I’m missing the kids terribly. I will be starting another shoot soon, not to mention the promotional tour for [Rapunzel], so I want to spend as much time with them as possible.”

Benji smiled at me. “You know, when I found out that you and Scarlett were expecting, I was a little worried the kids wouldn’t see you two much and would be raised mostly by nannies. But you proved me wrong. You’re a good father.”

“Thanks, bro.” I patted his shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll be a good one as well. Whenever you decide to have kids of your own.”

Benji laughed at the idea before shaking his head. “I’ve got no interest in ever having kids. I’m happy the way I am. And so is Ashley. And to be honest, I don’t think even you would’ve had Ace and Ian for years if it weren’t for the unplanned nature of their arrival.”

“Ace and Ian?” I asked.

He shrugged. “That’s what Evan calls them. Blame him, not me. And I kinda like the nicknames. Saying their full names together all the time is a bit of a mouthful.”

That was something I could agree with. I just hadn’t thought about giving my kids nicknames. And to be fair, the names Evan had chosen could’ve been much worse.

“You know what? I kinda like these names now that I think about it,” I mused out loud. “Ace and Ian.”

“Of course you do. I knew…”

“Troy Armitage!” a man shouted from behind the human barrier formed by my security team. “I have something very important to tell you! Please let me through.”

That was as far as the man got before one of the guards started pushing him back.

“Hey!” I called out as I got to my feet. “Don’t push him like that.”

That was enough for the guard to stop in his tracks.

“Troy,” Paolo, the head of my security, warned me, “you can’t risk your safety like that in a public place like an airport.”

I looked around and saw that there were hardly any passengers in the lounge at that moment. Malta wasn’t much of a tourist destination this time of year, especially not for the rich who could afford the premium lounge.

“I’ll be fine,” I said, waving off Paolo’s concern. “There are hardly any people here. If you’re so worried about him, frisk him before letting him through.”

Paolo clearly didn’t like my decision, but he ultimately did as I suggested. I know the security team is just doing their job, and there could really be a danger to my life if someone decided to attack me, but I can’t live my life like that. What makes life great is the spontaneity it brings through different people, places, and experiences. Spontaneity is what such a high-level security team takes away most often.

After a thorough frisk, the man was let through. He looked really young, with a thin frame. His light mustache and goatee accentuated his youth even further. If he told me he was a teenager, I would totally believe that.

“Hey, man.” I offered him a handshake as soon as he got close to me. “What’s up?”

He shook my hand reverently before looking me in the eye. “I… don’t know. I just wanted to talk, I guess. I shouted the first thing that came to my mind.”

I laughed before motioning toward the seat opposite me. “Come on, let’s sit and talk, since you want to. They told me the flight’s a little delayed because of the weather.”

He seemed to be in a daze as he took the seat offered. I relaxed into my recliner and said, “So what’s your name?”

“Damian,” he replied.

I grinned. “What a coincidence. That’s what I named my son.”

He smiled. “I know. It was all over the news.”

“So what brings you to Malta, Damian?” I asked conversationally.

He took a deep breath before saying, “I’m one of the writers on [Game of Thrones]. I worked with Jim to rewrite some of the scenes for the show over the past few months.”

“Oh?” I asked curiously.

He nodded. “I really, really wanted to talk to you. I tried to do it back on set as well, but I wasn’t even allowed to visit because the two times I went, the set was closed and no one was allowed in at all.”

He took a deep breath before continuing, “I write because I have to, but I’m a filmmaker first and foremost. I’m a Harvard graduate, and I directed and released a film at the Tribeca Film Festival last year. It got good reviews.”

I smiled. “Let me guess. You want me to finance your next movie. And since you couldn’t sell it anywhere else, you want my help with it.”

He blinked in confusion. “How did you know?”

“You’re not the first person to try that,” Benji said from beside me. “And you won’t be the last. This happens at least once a month. Would have happened more often if not for Troy’s security team. I can tell you his response right now because it’s always the same. If you really want to make a film, submit the script to his dad’s office or maybe Tobias. They’re the ones who handle production, not Troy.”

“But I did already!” Damian said hurriedly before turning to me. “Your dad, Tobias, I even rewrote it as a pilot and passed it along to your mother’s office, but I didn’t get any response. I tried every studio and producer, big and small, but no one was really interested in the story. I don’t think most of them even read it. I’m so fucking pissed off at this entire film system. I was just about to give up and move back home as soon as I was done with [Game of Thrones]. That’s when I ran into you here at the airport.”

I narrowed my eyes as I listened to his story. Something about it didn’t make sense.

“How did you get access to this place?” I asked. “This lounge is for first-class passengers, and I booked all the seats here for my security team and me.”

I didn’t need all the seats, but I definitely didn’t mind the space and the privacy. The security team had even made sure the lounge wouldn’t allow just anyone to enter and kept it a little more exclusive. So Damian coming over to me sounded suspicious.

He chuckled nervously. “They allow access to non-first-class passengers at a steep price. At least for me. I may have maxed out my credit card to get here. I saw you and your team from afar, so I decided to try my luck.”

“And what if I hadn’t listened to you?” I shot back.

He shrugged and picked up a hot towel and a packet of nuts. “Then I guess I’d enjoy the lounge and get my money’s worth.”

I laughed at his attitude before turning to Benji. “Can you make sure that Damian here doesn’t drown in debt because of his ‘need’ to see me?”

He nodded. “I’ll pay off his credit card bill when we’re back in the States.”

“You don’t have to do that,” the man said quickly, raising a hand in protest.

“Oh, but I do,” I insisted. “Don’t worry about that too much, and do what you came here to do. Tell me more about this film you want to make.”

He stared at me, gobsmacked. “Really? I thought you didn’t hear random pitches.”

“I don’t,” I agreed. “But I’m getting bored out of my fucking mind, and we still have half an hour to kill before the flight takes off.”

That was all the motivation he needed.

“The story is set in Hollywood,” he began eagerly. “It’s about two people, Mia and Sebastian, who are struggling artists in search of greatness. Sebastian is a jazz pianist, while Mia is an actress. They both have…”

As he continued narrating the story, my mind drifted to what this film would go on to become in the future. [La La Land] was one of my all-time favorite movies. I’d watched it so many times that I’d lost count. Just the names Mia and Sebastian were enough to clue me in.

If this film were [La La Land], then that meant this guy was… Damien Chazelle. Damien with an ‘e’. The youngest person ever to win the Best Director Oscar.

I still remember watching that Oscar ceremony live and celebrating the moment when [La La Land] won Best Picture… for a few minutes.

Don’t get me wrong. [Moonlight] is an absolute gem of a movie, but its rewatchability factor was pretty low. [La La Land] was a timeless classic that budding filmmakers would go on to study for decades to come.

“And then Sebastian decides that he wants to sign that contract because…”

“Troy,” Paolo interrupted our conversation. “It’s time to board the plane.”

I blinked out of the stupor brought on by Damien Chazelle’s lively narration.

“Do we have an extra seat in first class?” I asked my head of security.

He chuckled. “We have many.”

I motioned toward Damien. “Get him an upgrade then. I want to hear the rest of the story.”

Paolo nodded once before motioning for Damien to follow him toward the ticket counter. The budding director had a huge grin on his face, as if he had just won the lottery, which he probably had.

(Break)

“I’ll be honest with you, Damien,” I said once we were in the air, and the story had been concluded. “That was fucking great. I absolutely loved it.”

He beamed at me. “Thank you! So will you let me direct it?”

I tilted my head slightly, analyzing him carefully. I could say yes right here, right now, and rewrite history with an early release of [La La Land], but I didn’t.

“I can’t,” I said after a few moments. “You don’t have any experience. And that small-budget indie film doesn’t count. If you’re willing, though, I can buy this script from you.”

“No,” he said resolutely. “This isn’t for sale unless I’m directing it.”

“Not even if I offer you $5 million for it?”

That seemed to do the trick because his eyes widened in shock.

“You would pay $5 million for this script?” he asked incredulously.

“Yup.” I nodded. “So what do you say?”

He didn’t reply immediately, and of course, that made sense. Five million dollars was a lot of money for most people, especially those struggling in Hollywood. Many people even retire with that kind of payout.

After what felt like an eternity, Damien looked me in the eye, determination clear as day. “As tempting as the offer is, I’ll have to decline. Even if you double it to $10 million, it won’t matter. This script isn’t for sale.”

I gave him a small smile before nodding. “Good.”

“It was a test?” he asked in surprise.

I nodded. “Yeah. I see something in you that I like a lot. I’d want to cultivate that further, but for that, I needed to see if you’d resist the temptation of money. Hollywood and its lust for money tend to bring out the worst in people.”

A hopeful gleam appeared in his eyes. “Does that mean…?”

“No,” I crushed his hopes immediately. “I won’t let you direct this film without any experience. This can be a huge movie if done right, and it’ll need a big budget as well. I want you to begin with something small. Something that can be wrapped up quickly with a limited budget, like $3 to $5 million at most. This will be a test of your capabilities. If you make that film good, I’ll personally greenlight your musical film, and I’ll even play Sebastian.”

Damien looked awestruck by my offer.

But of course, there was one problem.

“I don’t have any other ideas right now,” he confessed. “I don’t know what else to write. Should I write a low-budget horror?”

I shook my head. “Don’t make such a big genre shift. Stick to what you’re good at. Take inspiration from your own life. Films that are personal to a director are always the most powerful. Once you’ve written an outline, come show it to me, and I’ll give you some pointers.”

“I’ll do that,” he agreed.

I then motioned toward Benji, who was sitting on the other side of the aisle. “Benji, get Damien to sign a three-picture deal with us when we land. And give him a generous signing bonus to get by until he can write his first film.”

“I’ll call Tobias to get it done,” he said in agreement.

With that done, I leaned back in my seat. If I really wanted to, I could’ve offered to let Damien direct [La La Land] right now, but I didn’t want to do that. All because of [Whiplash]. A masterpiece that many considered a superior movie to [La La Land].

If Damien made [La La Land] right now, he might never make a small indie film like [Whiplash]. He would already be in the big leagues of directors. Moreover, I couldn’t be sure that he would make a film of the same caliber as [La La Land] without the experience of [Whiplash] shaping his directing style.

(Break)

Unfortunately, having carefully considered your candidature, we are unable to match your skills and experience with the specific opportunity at Phoenix.

The more times he read that sentence, the more his blood boiled. How is it possible that a company as big as Phoenix didn’t have a single position open for him at all?

He opened a new tab in Chrome and decided to kill some time on YouTube. Anything to get his mind away from the latest rejection from one of the biggest tech companies in the world.

So, of course, he had to come across a clip of the owner of said company giving some interview. The interview was an old one, a few years old perhaps, but Troy Armitage has been one recognizable motherfucker for nearly a decade now.

“At Phoenix, I have given the management two goals for our employees. One, hire the absolute best talent. Two, do everything in your power to keep them happy. But that’s where my contribution ends. I don’t oversee the day-to-day functioning of the company; movie-making is where my passion lies.”

He absolutely hated all these rich celebrities who lived in their huge gated estates and had no idea about the ground reality for common people. Troy can afford to follow his passion even if his movies are bad and flopping hard. But others can’t. They have to hustle to make something worthwhile with their lives.

It was widely speculated by market experts that if Phoenix were to go public, Troy would become the richest person on the planet by a huge margin. And it wasn’t just money that made Troy dangerous. It was the unprecedented level of influence he held over the internet and the media.

Maybe he should bring Troy down a peg. To show him that he is also just a human who makes mistakes behind the scenes.

Mistakes like not hiring the person who could hack into the server of the biggest company on the planet for shits and giggles.

Okay, maybe not exactly for shits and giggles.

After months of trying to do that, he was finally successful. When he started this endeavor, it was mostly just curiosity. A challenge to himself to see if he could break into the company that had rejected him for a job repeatedly.

But as more time passed, this personal challenge had turned into a vendetta.

Companies like Phoenix and billionaires like Troy Armitage were the real rot plaguing their society, and they needed to understand the consequences of their actions.