Chapter 286: Sowing Discord

Inside another villa in Beverly Hills, John Aniston paced around outside his daughter’s room, wanting to knock, but ultimately turned away in disappointment. On the other side of the door, the young lady sat curled up on her bed with her arms hugging her legs, her chin resting on her knees. She listened in silence to the radio—to that shout that resembled a trapped beast yet revealed a fierce, vaulting ambition—her eyes unblinking, entirely lost in thought.

After the storm began, Elizabeth Murdoch moved straight to Los Angeles to live with Julia following several fruitless arguments with her father. Although both ladies feigned a complete lack of concern, once the strains of New Divide drifted out from the radio sitting on the living room coffee table, the two still exchanged a glance. Julia silently reached out and cranked the radio's volume to the maximum.

Nicole was currently baking cupcakes in the kitchen. Wearing large headphones over her ears, a simple shirt, and jeans, she had a compact radio clipped to her waist. Her body swayed gently to the melody inside as she held a large bowl, using a mixer to whip the ingredients.

Although Nicole had harbored fleeting anxieties when the storm first broke, she completely set her mind at ease once Eric called her personally and instructed her not to make a sound during this period. On regular days, she essentially went about her business as usual. She figured that a man as utterly wicked as him could not possibly fail to pull through. Besides, his tone when he called had been brimming with confidence.

Furthermore, he was single now. She felt that she naturally had to fight for her chance, even though he was so insufferable.

Drew turned the home audio system connected to her radio up to the maximum. The deafening sound reverberated within a radius of dozens of meters around the small apartment. Barely a minute passed before a fat white neighbor stormed out in a fury, shouting curses toward Drew’s open window.

"Motherfker, screw off! Don't ruin my listening to the song!" Hearing the fat man's curses, Drew directly scooped up an apple from the table and hurled it out. She even flipped a middle finger at the fat man.

Facing Drew’s aggressive posture, a trace of timidity surfaced in the fat man's heart. But he quickly blustered, "Drew, don't think you can do this just because you're a star. If you don't turn that sound down right now, I'm calling 911 to report you for disturbing the peace."

"Call them, go ahead and call them! My dear old dad just dropped his lawsuit, and I haven't had enough of legal battles yet anyway. It's perfect timing to go a round with you; just make sure you prepare plenty of money for legal fees," Drew bellowed as she leaned her body out the window, throwing another apple that caught the fat man right on his head.

"You... you are simply too unreasonable," the fat man said, clutching his head in exasperation.

"How much does reason cost per pound? Sell me some. If you don't have any, then beat it."

Seeing how fierce and formidable the girl was, several other neighbors who originally wanted to come forward to reason with her all backed away sheepishly. The fat man stood in his own yard, huffing and puffing for a few breaths. Just as he was about to continue shouting curses, he noticed that a bright red brick had appeared in Drew’s hand at some point. She was glaring at him aggressively, looking as if she would hurl it down the instant he muttered another word.

The fat man had seen the brutal footage in the newspapers of this crazy girl striking her biological father, so he instantly shut his mouth. Taking a few steps back, he shrunk back into his house.

Weighing the brick in her hand for a moment, the girl returned to her bedroom as the song drew to its close.

"On this day, I declared war on the world..." The girl swayed her alluring small waist along with the beat, howling along for a line. Although her small face was flushed crimson, her performance sounded absolutely disastrous due to her being tone-deaf. The song finally ended, and the voice of the host named Matthew Lassard sounded once more. Drew reached out to turn off the radio recorder and the audio system, then picked up the telephone by her bedside to dial the Point Dume estate in Malibu.

Once connected, the girl showed none of the lioness-like demeanor she had used when trading curses with the fat man. She instantly transformed into a docile kitten, her voice soft and carrying a hint of grievance: "Eric, another neighbor bullied me just now..."

Inside the Malibu luxury mansion, Eric made a gesture for the few people sitting in his living room to wait a moment before saying to the girl on the other end of the line, "I'd thank heaven and earth if you weren't bullying others... Yeah... No problem... I know, I know..."

A full ten-plus minutes passed before Eric finally hung up the phone, letting out a soft sigh at the same time.

Because the tide of public opinion had turned, out of the four lawsuits Eric had originally received, Drew’s father and the screenwriter who sued him for plagiarism had directly dropped their suits. Anyone with a discerning eye could tell that the forces backing these two had certainly understood the current state of affairs, abandoning their support for the pair once they realized the matter was unfeasible. Although the lawsuit accusing him of utilizing illegal means to acquire the Malibu Point Dume land package had not been dropped, Edward sent word that if this matter were dragged out for a while, it would likely end up fading away into nothingness.

As for Sony Pictures' lawsuit regarding the Running Out of Time contract, although they were unreconciled, they also knew that keeping up this fuss could delay the payment of Running Out of Time's profit-sharing for a while, but if they incensed Eric, the sequel to Running Out of Time might become indefinitely delayed. For a blockbuster hit like this, once the sequel stalled, the losses could exceed tens of millions of dollars. Consequently, both parties had also initiated settlement procedures.

Of course, Eric wasn't sighing over these matters, but rather thinking of that little lady, Drew. After Drew’s father dropped the lawsuit, Eric had sent word letting the girl move back, but Drew refused, stating she wanted to live with her mother in Culver City. Eric knew that the girl simply didn't want to bring him any more trouble; therefore, no matter what time the girl called over these days, Eric would patiently spend hours chatting on the phone with the little lady.

Walking back to sit by the sofa once more, Eric addressed Jeffrey and the others seated around him: "Where were we just now?"

Jeffrey helplessly reminded him, "The matter of the music company."

"Oh, right," Eric thought for a moment before continuing, "Regarding the music company, let's temporarily affiliate it under Firefly. I want to use the release of this single to establish a basic distribution channel. Next, our primary focus for the time being will be distributing the soundtrack albums for our company's films. Robert, neither Jeffrey nor I know much about distribution. How about you take charge of the record label for the time being?"

Robert Shaye smiled and nodded in agreement; he originally had this thought himself: "Of course, no problem. However, what about EMI's end?"

"Maintain the cooperation," Eric said. What the two were referring to was EMI Records. The New Divide Records company Eric had established—named after his own single—was merely an empty shell with absolutely no distribution capabilities of its own. Therefore, for the release of this single, his only option was to collaborate with the famous EMI Records. "Because of the Firefly situation, my sudden establishment of a record label has made several established record companies highly wary, so we can only maintain the cooperation for now. Otherwise, we wouldn't have any chance to develop at all. Once we accumulate strength for a few years, it won't be too late to consider flying solo."

Everyone in the living room burst out laughing, their tones carrying a greater or lesser degree of pride. After all, it wasn't an easy feat for a newly established music company that possessed nothing but a single song to spark wariness from several of the world's major, established record labels.

"Next, let's talk about the UTA matter," Eric looked toward Edward and said, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠"First, give us an introduction to the progress of the case."

Edward pulled out the materials he had organized in advance and said, "The current situation is highly favorable to us, because the major companies that were originally fueling the flames behind the scenes have definitely all given up by now, no longer attempting to influence this case. Therefore, we only need to respond to the lawsuit according to normal procedures. Because the illegal damage index caused by Firefly and UTA violating antitrust laws is exceptionally low, under the circumstances where no other forces are interfering—and coupled with the current tide of public opinion—it is impossible for the Federal Trade Commission to heavily penalize Firefly and UTA. Even if a fine is paid, I imagine it will be merely symbolic. What you need to do is just offload UTA's shares as quickly as possible."

After listening to Edward finish, Eric looked toward Kapoor, who was sitting on the other side, and asked, "Kapoor, what are your thoughts right now? I mean, do you want to take over UTA entirely?"

Kapoor let out a bitter smile, shrugged, and said, "Of course I want to, but unfortunately I can't afford it."

Eric fell silent. Ever since the antitrust investigation began, among the Big Three talent agencies that had now formed a new landscape in North America, CAA was out of the question for him, and he hadn't considered it either. Although WMA had undergone a series of reforms and consolidations over the past six months, it was simply too old after all, and its institutional structure remained somewhat rigid.

Eric nodded along. Although he wanted Kapoor to take over UTA individually in his heart, thinking about it further made it impractical. Setting aside that Kapoor could not possibly cough up twenty to thirty million dollars to buy out the entirety of UTA, even if Eric gave UTA completely to Kapoor, as UTA expanded and grew, it would still have to bring in partners anyway. Rather than developing step by step toward the eventual Big Three agency model like that, it was better to get it right in one step and sell UTA directly to ICM.

Although this would cause Eric to completely lose his influence over talent agencies, given his current status, he no longer needed to exert any influence over talent agencies anyway.

"In that case, let's negotiate with ICM then. See if we can bump up the price a bit more," Eric instructed Edward after making his decision.

Edward nodded, indicating he had noted it down.

"Alright, next it's time to talk about wrapping things up. After taking this pent-up abuse for over a month, I can't just let things pass so quietly without doing anything at all."

The moment Eric finished speaking, Jeffrey gently advised, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠"Eric, I feel that letting this matter pass quietly is already the best possible outcome."

Eric froze for a moment and looked toward the others. Whether it was Robert Shaye, or Chris Hansen who had rushed over from New York this afternoon and had absolutely nothing to do with Hollywood, they all nodded in unison.

Letting out a bitter smile, Eric said, "Fine, I'll listen to you guys and forgo any substantive actions. However, I still need to make a bit of a gesture, otherwise others will think I'm a pushover."

Hearing Eric say this, everyone let out a sigh of relief while bursting into laughter. They had all been worried that Eric would be young and hot-headed, wanting to clash to the bitter end with the Big Seven film studios. That would be highly unwise; because Firefly and Eric being able to emerge completely unscathed from this storm was already a blessing from God, and they currently possessed very little strength to mount a counterattack.

"Eric, what do you want to do?" Jeffrey asked with a smile.

Eric had originally thought of some real-world fighting tactics—when a single person is being ganged up on by a crowd, they steel their resolve to specifically single out one individual among that crowd to fight to the bitter end. By crippling one, he believed the remaining people would definitely show fear and not dare to provoke him lightly again.

He had originally selected Fox. However, seeing that everyone around him was unwilling for him to do such a thing, Eric could only give it up.

After pondering for a while, another wicked grin surfaced at the corner of Eric's mouth: "Since I can't cripple one person, then I'll just sow discord in this person's relationship with his companions."

Everyone present was a smart person; they understood Eric's meaning with a moment's thought. At the same time, they also realized that the target Eric selected was bound to be Fox. After all, the cooperation between the two sides ran the deepest, and Firefly even held a 10% stake in the Fox Broadcasting Company.

...

The release of the New Divide single, sung by Eric himself, set off a craze across North America. Coupled with the fact that the song's lyrics were ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠neither empty whines nor incomprehensible nonsense, but rather the truest reflection of what Eric had undergone during this period, sales broke through 1 million copies within three days of the single hit shelves. A week later, it reached over 3 million copies, while also taking the number one spot on various music charts beyond any doubt.

At the same time, due to the impact generated by this song, the public opinion support Eric received grew more and more pronounced. He barely had to worry about matters regarding this storm anymore. Meanwhile, the several women who shared relatively close relationships with him also walked out from the shadow of this storm under a series of public opinion guidance, beginning to consider their work schedules for the year.

On February 19th, another matter of critical importance to Eric also transpired.

On this day, Cisco formally went public with an IPO share price of 18 dollars. Because there was no daily price limit restriction on the day of an IPO, Cisco's stock price reached 22 dollars on the day of its issuance.

Although this performance wasn't overly dazzling, over the subsequent period, Cisco began an explosive streak of consecutive limit-ups, doubling its stock price by a full two times in less than a month. Over the phone, Chris praised Eric thoroughly in a highly peculiar tone laced with envy, while also mysteriously inquiring how Eric had been certain that Cisco's stock would explode. Eric naturally couldn't answer, so he could only talk nonsense with Chris.

Meanwhile, in mid-February, the nomination list for the 62nd Academy Awards was announced. Scent of a Woman claimed four nominations—including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, and Best ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Adapted Screenplay—becoming an undisputed heavyweight favorite for the Oscars. Additionally, Julia secured two nominations simultaneously—Best Actress and Best Supporting Actress—by virtue of her two films, Pretty Woman and Steel Magnolias. This triggered another uproar in the media, because for the Oscars, a double nomination in a single year was exceptionally rare, let alone for two such critical acting awards.

As for Eric himself, what he received were entirely screenplay nominations: Best Adapted Screenplay for Scent of a Woman and Best Original Screenplay for The Others. In reality, Running Out of Time could have originally secured a nomination as well, but out of public relations considerations, Eric gave it up, opting instead for The Others, which had the highest probability of winning a prize. After all, because The Sixth Sense had not yet appeared, the subject matter of The Others was still highly novel, offering the greatest hope of winning an award.

Of course, Eric had just had a storm with the Big Seven that everyone was well aware of; therefore, the companies responsible for distributing these films would certainly not pull out all the stops to conduct award campaigns for them. Eric could only do it himself, and within Firefly, only Robert Shaye possessed some experience in this regard, so Eric handed this entire matter over to Robert.

What he currently had to deal with was another matter—the business regarding sowing discord between a certain person and his companions.

Outside a famous Italian restaurant on Sunset Boulevard, a luxury black sedan slowly pulled to a stop in the parking lot. The chauffeur opened the car door, and Rupert Murdoch stepped out of the vehicle. Just as he got out of the car, flashbulbs flared nearby.

Letting out a bitter smile, Rupert Murdoch still straightened his suit. Elizabeth, who stepped out from the other side, also came forward to take her father's arm, and the two walked toward the interior of the restaurant.

The waiter had recognized the pair long ago and came forward to welcome them: "Mr. Murdoch, Mr. Williams has already been waiting for a while. Let me take you over."