The Million-Dollar Dinner
Dozens of articles like that flooded the media. As expected, people were always hooked on either romance or money. Why else would the airwaves be captivated by such gossip day in and day out? Because it was primal, and it was entertaining. That was simply how show business worked.
It's vicarious satisfaction. People willingly paid to peek into the private lives of distant superstars. It might only be a few cents for a newspaper, but those cents pooled together into massive capital, eventually funding the production of blockbuster films.
"Here's what I'm trying to say." Inside the conference room, Terry Semel of Warner Bros. glared at the executives seated before him, his voice dripping with menace. "Why did nobody tell me about this?"
He flipped through the newspaper clippings compiled by his subordinates before tossing them onto the table with a sharp thud. The focus of his attention was the coverage of the "Heal the World" charity gala held on December 23rd—which was now technically last year.
While details of such high-profile events were usually kept strictly confidential, leaks were inevitable, often spawning wild rumors. Reviewing the compiled articles, Terry felt a prickle of irritation, even though Sion's exact winning bid hadn't been leaked to the public yet. Regardless, it was time to grill his staff.
"Sion Lee pulled the highest bid of the night. A whopping one million dollars! That's how much someone paid just to slice steak with the kid and laugh along with him on set. ...And who is that filthy rich idiot, you ask? It's me! You absolute morons!"
At the CEO's fury, the employees could only remain silent.
"Do you know who else was in the bidding war for Sion Lee? Jack Nicholson! Olga Asimov! Even Michael Jackson! MJ himself told Sion before the event to drop by and see him afterward! And Sion actually did! Dammit, I've never seen anything like it in my entire life! Everyone was chanting 'Sion Lee! Sion Lee!'"
Terry's point was simple. Until now, Warner Bros. had severely underestimated the power of the actor named Sion Lee. It was only natural. Although Sion had been steadily proving his star power through various projects and performances, he was still just a green kid who had barely reached adulthood. Naturally, Terry had shared that view. But seeing him at the charity gala had completely changed his mind.
"Because you idiots underestimated Sion Lee, my one million dollars just vanished into thin air!"
Technically, it was a "donation." Still, it was a massive sum that could have been used for far more strategic networking. Why was Terry so furious about this? The reason was simple. Currently, the core leadership of Warner Bros. did not want Pain Walker to exceed expectations. They didn't want it to fail, but they didn't want it to be a runaway success either. It was a highly political stance born of internal power struggles—one that could never be openly voiced within the company.
A few executives secretly wanted to snap back at their raging boss:
Terry, why are you being so sensitive over a single actor? He's just one guy. It's not like he's Tom Cruise or Tom Hanks. He doesn't have that kind of leverage yet, so why are you so on guard? Honestly, did you get into a fight with your wife at home or something?
And are Jack Nicholson, Olga Asimov, and Michael Jackson the general public? They're the exact opposite! Just because they like him and shout "Sion Lee is the best!" what does that have to do with the movie's box office? Stop making wild leaps and get a grip, please!
But of course, no one dared say it out loud. Instead, only one brave soul quietly raised their hand.
"What?!" Terry barked.
"Uh, I don't quite understand why you felt the need to buy the dinner ticket with Sion Lee in the first place, sir."
"...Are you seriously asking me that right now?"
"I-I'm sorry!"
Yet, it was a valid question. Which studio was distributing Pain Walker, the movie Sion Lee was currently filming? Warner Bros. As the head of the studio, Terry Semel had the power to walk onto the set whenever he pleased, inspect the production, and tell Sion to get into his car for dinner at the end of the day. Yet, he had deliberately bought that right through an auction. There were two main reasons. First, he didn't want anyone else to have it. Second...
"In this business, protocol is everything. Protocol."
Because, for some reason, he smelled a massive payday.
One million dollars. Olga Asimov had offered her own assessment of that winning bid.
"By that point, everyone must have felt the bidding was getting too overheated. Well, everyone except one person."
After the charity gala, Sion had been whisked away to the Asimov family mansion without even knowing why. Thinking back to that night, the first thing that came to mind was the face of Dmitry, the patriarch of the household. He had stepped out with a bright smile to welcome his returning family, only to freeze over like permafrost the instant he spotted the handsome uninvited guest standing right next to them.
Unbothered by the icy tension, Olga had popped open a bottle of vodka, pouring it with a steady glug-glug as she continued. Elena, whose birthday hadn't passed yet, sat beside them sipping orange juice.
"Terry Semel. The fact that he bought the right to have dinner with you is quite significant. I was thinking of raising the bid further, but there's a reason everyone else, including myself, backed down. A man like him choosing you means there's a specific 'proposal' he wants to make. It's only right to yield in that scenario."
"What kind of man is he in your eyes, Olga?"
"From what I know, he can be quite aggressive, but he has an uncanny nose for money. If you play your cards right, he could be an excellent business partner. After all, we're talking about Warner. Still, it's truly astonishing. Building a connection with Michael Jackson of all people? Even I haven't managed that."
Around that point, Sion had tried to snatch the orange juice from a dozing Elena to sneakily mix himself a Screwdriver, only to get caught and smacked on the arm. Recalling the contrast between this playful boy and the polished, gentle manners he had displayed at the gala, Olga burst into laughter.
"Every single move you make fills me with anticipation. You don't have to put on a show in front of us, so just relax and make yourself at home."
"...I have no idea what you're talking about."
Even as he said that, Sion still managed to sneak a sip of Elena's orange juice. In the end, he found himself invited to almost every single Asimov family gathering through Christmas and New Year's. Though he grumbled to himself, I shouldn't go, and What a pain, he kept showing up, recognizing the value of the connection with Olga, who was clearly looking out for him.
Seriously, this is such a hassle. Yet, despite his internal complaints, Sion soon found himself laughing between Elena and Olga, completely ignoring Dmitry's perpetually sour expression.
And so, the long holiday stretch ended, ushering in the latter half of the filming schedule. Arriving on set after a while, Sion noticed an unfamiliar Lincoln parked in the lot.
"...No way. Did he really show up this fast?"
Guided by a hunch, he walked onto the set, only to find exactly who he expected. A well-built Caucasian man in a sharp suit. His name was Terry Semel.
"Ah, there's our star!"
"Hello, Mr. Semel. If I'd known you were coming, I would have arrived earlier." Sion greeted him with a smooth, gentle smile, maintaining the polished tone he had been cultivating lately.
"Hahaha! Don't worry about it! Today was just an unscheduled visit!" But the atmosphere on set was already completely ruined. Before Sion's arrival, Terry had been poking around every corner of the set, throwing out unsolicited feedback and questions. For instance, when told a scene would use matte painting, he had scoffed, asking why they couldn't just use CGI.
"..."
"..."
The surrounding crew members were pale. They were terrified that Terry would keep showing up like some clueless, overbearing executive, micromanaging and nitpicking their work. As everyone silently contemplated booking therapy sessions, Sion Lee—the crew's sole beacon of hope—stepped up to work his social magic.
"Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to visit us, Mr. Semel."
"Haha, not at all. I've been meaning to drop by and encourage the crew anyway, even if it wasn't for you, Mr. Lee. But boy... I must say, it's surprising. The set is so dark. How is this going to look on screen? We got a lot of complaints about Batman Returns being too dark, you know."
"We're utilizing the lighting very carefully. You'll be amazed when you see the footage later." Sion placated the executive, gently guiding him further into the set. As they walked, Sion took the initiative to propose a plan.
"Since you're already here, if your schedule allows, would you care to join me for dinner after the tour?"
"Oh? Well, the sooner the better for me. But if I'm having dinner with our star, I'd prefer somewhere private and high-end. I wonder if we can get a same-day reservation at a place like that?"
"I'll look into it. I'm sure throwing my name around will get us a table somewhere."
"Ah, then I'll leave it to you. And really, it doesn't have to be today."
"No, you went out of your way to visit, so I'd love to have dinner with you tonight." Escorting Terry with practiced ease, Sion thought, I need to feel out his true intentions tonight. Why on earth had this man donated a massive sum of one million dollars just for him? ...If it turned out to be a simple tax write-off, that would be incredibly disappointing.
Of course, it wasn't that simple. After touring the set and closely observing the actual filming under the guidance of Sion and the crew, Terry Semel showed intense interest in Sion throughout their dinner. He felt less like a fan and more like an interviewer.
Having managed to book a decent restaurant through Charlie, Sion cut into a premium steak that cost over forty dollars per hundred grams while undergoing Terry's close-range interview.
"When did you start acting?"
"Since I was eight."
"And when did you move to Hollywood?"
"When I was fourteen."
"You started quite early. It couldn't have been easy surviving the transition from child actor to adult."
Sion smiled knowingly. It was entirely true. Many child actors in Hollywood achieved massive success early on, only to self-destruct under the crushing pressure. Children were far too fragile to withstand the dark underbelly of show business, and despite various laws, they were rarely protected properly. But back then, Sion had no choice.
"I needed money. A lot of it."
"But surely you're doing quite well now? You're paid far more than your peers. Three million for this film alone. For context, we're about to sign Nicole for around one million for a film we currently have in production."
"Nicole... as in Nicole Kidman?"
"Oops, that's confidential. Don't go repeating that anywhere, okay?" Terry said, throwing out the bait with zero subtlety.
"Well, you can never have too much money. Acting is a career where you can become yesterday's news in an instant, so I think it's best to inflate your value as much as possible while you're still hot." Sion played the part of a blind goldfish and took the bait.
Setting aside his most recent sitcom, The College Player, which had too many unique variables to compare directly to film, his previous movie, Fragments of You, had earned him a base salary of $750,000, thanks to Jack's intervention. With incentives included, that figure easily doubled. It was a staggering sum for a rising young adult actor, and as the film became a box office hit and various events unfolded, Sion's market value had skyrocketed.
On top of that, given the scale of this film, my salary is even higher. He was making roughly double what the lead actor, Mickey Rourke, was earning. For a twenty-one-year-old actor, he was in the absolute top tier. Yet, Sion continued to subtly hint at a hunger for more wealth, and Terry didn't miss the cue.
"How does five million sound?"
"...Wasn't business talk supposed to be off-limits at a dinner like this?"
"Forget those trivial rules. You should be aiming to stand on the side that makes the rules, not the side that follows them."
As expected, Terry Semel was a man who could sniff out money like a bloodhound. He was already convinced that Pain Walker would be a hit solely because of Sion Lee. While he couldn't predict the exact scale of its success, he planned to use a single "strategy" to elevate it from "a project that would be troublesome if it succeeded too much" to "a project where massive success was perfectly fine."
"Pain Walker is a DC Comics property, isn't it? And I hear your character, Lucid, has appeared in the Batman comics before. So, Mr. Lee... of course, this is something our team and your agency will have to negotiate, but... I would really love for you to appear in a film."
In the third Batman film. Hearing this, Sion put on his best impression of a shrewd businessman and asked:
"As Lucid? Is that even possible?"
"Of course! If the Batman franchise keeps performing, we're planning to make a Superman movie as well and eventually merge the two universes. A crossover of sorts. If Sion Lee's Lucid is utilized as that kind of character, wouldn't that be fantastic for your career?"
Sion remained silent, contemplating. It wasn't a bad proposal. He definitely knows how to sniff out a profit. At this point in time, shared universes weren't a mainstream concept. Even in the future, outside of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, there weren't many successful instances of characters crossing over into other films. To be precise, studios knew it was highly lucrative and tried it multiple times, but they rarely achieved the desired results.
But facing this concrete proposal, Sion had one major concern. The movie I'd be appearing in is Batman Forever. Granted, it was a masterpiece compared to its successor, Batman & Robin. Batman Forever was a massive box office success, and while critics panned it, family audiences embraced the campy shift. Warner Bros., eager to focus on merchandising, had been so thrilled they immediately greenlit the next installment.
Having finished his calculations, Sion spoke up. "I do have a few concerns. Mainly, whether my character would fit the tone of the film. You saw it today, didn't you? Pain Walker is even darker and grittier than Batman Returns."
"Haha, as for that, I'm sure we can work things out if we coordinate closely." Terry beamed, clearly encouraged by the positive response. Watching him, Sion thought, It's a poisoned chalice.
Yet, because his regression had already altered the course of history, he felt a sudden urge to take a sip from that chalice. Thus, Sion made a counterproposal. "Aren't the heroes and villains already locked in for the film?"
"They are. But we can always carve out a spot..."
"How about this?" To secure a solid footing in a film that would succeed commercially but fail critically, and to use Lucid to fill the narrative void that critics would later complain about, Sion proposed: "Lucid appears as someone who is neither hero nor villain."
Hearing the suggestion, Terry's eyes gleamed with intense curiosity.