Wayne managed to maintain his composure, barely suppressing the urge to laugh out loud.
At the start of his career, Nicolas Cage was the quintessential artsy youth. He had no interest in commercial films and only appreciated arthouse films, and his social interactions were just as quirky.
But as he aged, perhaps he matured, or maybe simply acting in arthouse films wasn't enough to support his lavish lifestyle. Eventually, he began taking on commercial films and developed an increasingly light-hearted persona.
Across from him, Nicolas Cage couldn't help but reminisce as he looked at Wayne.
Back in the day, he was a handsome young man with long flowing hair, and his brooding eyes had enchanted countless girls. But now, at just over thirty, his hairline was receding fast, and his roles had shifted from youthful heartthrobs to middle-aged men. Time, indeed, was merciless.
However, his love for arthouse films remained unchanged, even though they didn't bring in much money. So when Wayne offered him a role in a romantic film that leaned toward arthouse, even if it was just a supporting role, Cage was genuinely thrilled.
"Of course, I'm very confident in my judgment!" Wayne said with a smile.
He greeted Dustin Hoffman and Susan Sarandon, who were also walking over, exchanged pleasantries, and then led Mia and Jessica into the audition room.
"Sorry I'm late," Wayne said as soon as he entered the room.
As he walked in, screenwriter Jan Sardi and director Richard Curtis both stood up and enthusiastically welcomed him.
However, Nicholas Sparks, sitting with a stern expression, stood out awkwardly.
Wayne knew that writers like Sparks often had unique personalities. The earlier issue regarding the rights probably irritated him, so Wayne decided to overlook his attitude.
Of course, Wayne wasn't about to go out of his way to be friendly. Ignoring Sparks, he led Mia and Jessica to their seats.
What he didn't expect was that Sparks took his indifference as an opportunity to push back.
"She's not suitable for my lead role! My female lead is a white aristocratic girl. Her appearance and skin color don't match my vision. Besides, she's just an actress. What gives her the right to sit here?" Sparks suddenly said.
The audition room fell silent.
Objectively, Sparks wasn't wrong. In that era, aristocratic girls were generally white, and Jessica's slightly tan skin didn't fit the character of "Ellie" very well. Additionally, as an actress, Jessica technically didn't have the right to sit in on the meeting.
But since when did Wayne follow the rules of objectivity?
Sparks was an experienced writer who had sold rights before, so he had to know that production companies often adapt scripts to suit their needs. In Hollywood, countless adapted films don't strictly follow the original storylines or character descriptions.
Clearly, Sparks wasn't ignorant. He just wanted to cause trouble.
Wayne's polite smile vanished. He turned and walked up to Sparks, looming over him. The coldness in his eyes made Sparks instinctively tense up, and he struggled to breathe.
The atmosphere turned icy.
Sparks stood up, hoping to ease the pressure from Wayne's imposing figure and intense presence.
But the next second, a sharp slap rang out. Sparks was knocked over, his chair crashing to the ground with a loud thud.
Everyone in the room was stunned, their faces filled with shock.
Sparks, lying on the ground, clutching his face with one hand and propping himself up with the other, stared at Wayne in disbelief. He was completely dazed, unable to fathom that Wayne had just hit him—and in front of so many people.
"Surprised?" Wayne smiled, walked over, grabbed Sparks by the collar, and effortlessly lifted the 170-pound man into the air. With a sneer, he said, "Have you had too much to drink, or have you written yourself into stupidity? This is my company, my crew. Jessica is my girlfriend. I'll arrange things how I see fit. Don't like it? You can cancel the contract and take back your book. But can you afford the breach penalty?"
Sparks' face turned pale.
It was clear he couldn't afford the $30 million penalty. That sum would bankrupt him.
Moreover, during the production and release of the film, he wasn't allowed to make any negative comments about the movie. If he did, Wayne would surely take him to court, and he'd lose even more money.
Though Sparks was now hailed as America's "godfather of romance novels" and had gained some fame, his cumulative sales from his four books only amounted to a few million copies. The audience for romance novels wasn't as large as those for fantasy, suspense, or science fiction.
On top of that, he only received a 10% royalty per book, with the bulk of the earnings going to the publisher. Excluding the $750,000 he earned from *The Notebook*, Sparks' total assets amounted to about $10 million. With five kids to support, his expenses were no small matter.
Realizing what a foolish thing he had just done, Sparks finally came to his senses.
Wayne wasn't just some actor or producer; he was the owner of a production company—a capitalist!
Hemera Pictures was now a well-known studio in Hollywood, ranking among the top five just below the "Big Seven." How could a mere writer dare to cross someone like him?
Even J.K. Rowling had to play by Warner Bros.' rules!
Sparks, though inwardly fuming to the point of a heart attack, had no choice but to suppress his anger.
He didn't dare to storm off, nor could he think of retaliating. He forced a smile and apologized to Wayne.
Seeing this, Richard Curtis and Jan Sardi couldn't help but become more respectful toward Wayne.
In Hollywood, successful directors and stars could act brazenly, even against studio executives. But no one dared to challenge the true owners behind the studios.
For example, many had stood up to Fox, but who would dare challenge Rupert Murdoch, the man behind it all?
Although Wayne's wealth and influence were far from Murdoch's, he was still a capitalist worth hundreds of millions.
With that, the awkward incident quickly passed.
The auditions moved along much more smoothly after that. Within an hour, the process was completed, including the participation of those just there for formality, like Nicolas Cage and Dustin Hoffman.
Though Jonah Hill's performance had improved considerably, he was still eliminated.
This wasn't just due to his somewhat lacking acting skills, but also his appearance. Standing only 5'7" and weighing over 180 pounds, Hill didn't have the aura of a wealthy heir. The production even had to custom-make his costumes. Even if the director agreed to cast him, Mia, as the producer, would not!
After politely declining Nicolas Cage's offer to celebrate at a bar, Wayne wrapped up the auditions and left the office with Jessica and Hannah.
Mia stayed behind to continue working on *The Notebook* preparations.
"Thank you, darling! You were amazing back there!" Jessica eagerly wrapped herself around Wayne like a snake as soon as they got in the car, her eyes full of love.
Wayne didn't resist her, and this made Hannah, driving in the front, roll her eyes and flip him off in the rearview mirror. She floored the gas pedal, getting them back to Wayne's estate in twenty minutes. Without even leaving the car, she joined in the action.
"The first round of offers from distributors has come in."
The next morning, while Wayne was learning to read sheet music in the piano room with the help of a composer and arranger hired by Mike, he received a call from Sarah.
"The top three buyout offers are Disney with $52 million, Universal with $50 million, and Sony with $49.6 million."
"For a minimum guarantee with profit-sharing, Miramax has offered $25 million upfront, plus $3.95 million for every $10 million over $60 million at the box office."
"DreamWorks' offer is slightly lower, with $30 million upfront, plus $3.6 million for every $10 million over $80 million."
"As for the payment terms, they're according to our usual rules—immediate settlement once the box office target is hit, and full payment within three days of the film's release."
After listening, Wayne fell into deep thought.
In his previous life, *Mean Girls* grossed an impressive $130 million, including $86 million in North America and $44 million overseas.
That version starred unknown actors.
The leads, Lindsay Lohan and Rachel McAdams, were just up-and-coming actresses at the time.
As for the director and screenwriter, they were even less well-known.
The upgraded version of *Mean Girls* Wayne was producing had an equally unknown cast of women, but his involvement alone provided significant box-office appeal.
With Nancy Meyers directing and the script upgraded, Wayne was expecting the box office to hit $200 million.
Yes, $200 million.
In recent years, only *Ugly Nation* has reached this level of success among campus comedies.
And with a budget of 200 million, it's clear that Miramax is offering much better terms.
Of course, Miramax's overseas distribution capabilities are limited, so the international box office won't compare to what the Big Seven could do, but it's still better than DreamWorks.
Besides, he owes Harvey a favor, and now is the perfect opportunity to repay it.
"Let's go with Harvey's offer, but we need him to release the movie before May."
"No problem," Serra said with a smile. "I think that guy Harvey will be happy to ride the wave of *The Bourne Identity*'s popularity."
Serra was right. Harvey, along with other distributors, is offering such a high price not only because of the quality of *Mean Girls* but also due to the hype surrounding *The Bourne Identity*.
Through MPAA channels, these distributors have already learned about the quality of *The Bourne Identity*—some have even seen the film.
With the buzz generated by the Oscars, they expect *The Bourne Identity* to be a blockbuster.
By then, Wayne's fame and influence would rise even further, making him a top Hollywood star. If they release *Mean Girls* during this period, they can ride the wave of hype and save a fortune on marketing!
Take Miramax, for example—Harvey is only planning to spend $5 million on promoting *Mean Girls*.
If the box office exceeds $60 million, he'll break even, and the rest of the DVD sales would be pure profit!
And out of all the films produced by Hemera Films, has any of them grossed less than $60 million? Not a single one has made under $100 million!
So, after receiving Serra's call, Harvey immediately agreed, his face beaming with joy like a blooming chrysanthemum.
Although his expectations for *Mean Girls*' box office weren't as high as Wayne's, he still projected $160 million, which is $20 million higher than *Gifted*.
Based on this estimate, he could earn around $10 million from the box office, and with comedy films having a larger DVD market, he could make $40 million from this movie!
"That Wayne guy sure is generous!" Harvey couldn't help but genuinely sigh after hanging up the phone.
"But if the box office really reaches $160 million, it'll be my turn to owe him a favor."
Of course, Harvey didn't mind owing Wayne a favor—in fact, he was more than happy to do so.
It's through exchanging favors that connections deepen, isn't it?
Meanwhile, other distribution heads were surprised to learn that Hemera Films had quickly reached a deal with Miramax. They immediately began sending people to investigate, and one by one, they fell into deep thought.
"Maybe the reason Wayne doesn't attend our parties is that we've been choosing the wrong party themes?" After some contemplation, many couldn't help but entertain this bizarre idea.
(End of chapter)