Dreams of Stardom (Hollywood SI)

September 2006, Kloves Residence, London

I had thought that after my conversation with Mum, things would be fine. I was wrong.

Dad, who had been in Los Angeles for work for the past few weeks, was finally back home—and he wasted no time berating me all over again.

"You're being obtuse," he said, disappointment evident in his tone. "Did you forget that by pushing this idea, you're not just hurting Warner Bros., but us as well? You get 10% of [Harry Potter]'s revenue. If you breach the contract on your end, Warner Bros. could do the same—and they might pay you significantly less. Especially now, when they have nothing to lose, given how antagonistic you've been toward them."

I had considered that possibility and already had a way around it.

"I'll get Dick Parsons to sign off on it," I replied. "If he approves something, anything, Warner Bros. will have to follow suit."

Dad shook his head in frustration. "That's not how the corporate chain of command works, son—especially in Hollywood. Warner Bros. operates independently of Time Warner's direct influence. Sure, Dick could advocate for you, but the final decision rests with Barry Meyer."

I knew for a fact that Dick had the power to remove Barry if he wanted, so it seemed obvious that he could get him to agree to something so trivial. Then again, I didn't fully understand the mechanics of their relationship. Dick had sounded sincere when we spoke, but for all I knew, it could've been posturing—an act to gain my favor while he was actually in cahoots with Barry.

"Also," Dad continued, "did you consider that Dick might share your mother's and my opinion? That making this series so explicit is unnecessary? Even if you shoot the scenes, Dick could order HBO to cut them before airing. They will have control over that."

I hated that Dad was making so much sense.

"Don't be in such a rush to do everything right now, Troy," he said in conclusion. "You have your whole life ahead of you to film whatever you want. Hell, you could even a shoot full-fledged porno if you wanted to—but please, just wait until the last [Harry Potter] film is released."

"He is not shooting a porno!" Mum yelled before I could even process Dad's words.

I couldn't suppress my amusement any longer and burst out laughing—Dad joined in as well at how ridiculous the conversation had become.

"I have no intention of shooting a porno," I said matter-of-factly once the laughter died down. "Ever."

"I know," Dad grinned. "Just trying to lighten the mood. So—what have you decided?"

Now, this was a tricky one. I wanted to do the role justice.

From what I remembered of [The Night Of], it had felt a little incomplete—something I didn't experience when recalling [Criminal Justice]. And that was because of Riz Ahmed was far more conservative while playing the same character as compared to Ben Whishaw. The nudity in the original wasn't gratuitous; it was necessary. As an audience, you needed to feel the protagonist's pain—the humiliation of being watched by dozens of strangers during his most vulnerable moments. That's what made the original such a powerful show.

"I'll talk to Dick before making a final decision," I said firmly. "It all depends on his response."

"Fair enough," Dad nodded. "But keep in mind—if you do this show as intended, your mother will walk away from the production team."

I turned sharply toward Mum, but she remained silent, avoiding my gaze.

"Don't look at her. I told her to," Dad said, drawing my attention back to him. "I love her too much to let her go through the backlash of [Sex Education] again—alone."

That was a low blow, making me feel guilty as hell. I wanted to do the series, but not if it meant taking away such a great opportunity from Mum. She had put so much time and effort into it. At the same time, I couldn't blame her for wanting to step away.

With that one sentence, Dad had forced me to make up my mind immediately. It would feel like a betrayal of the highest order if I were to set aside my mother's contribution to the series. I didn't want that at all.

"Fine," I said reluctantly, turning to Mum. "I agreed to do this show because I wanted to work with you—not just because the story is compelling. Talk to Peter and make the necessary changes to make the series less explicit."

Mum stepped closer, cupping my face in her hands. "Don't compromise for my sake, love. I won't feel bad stepping away if that's what you really want. This is not an ultimatum to stop you."

"I don't mind, Mum," I lied easily, keeping an easy grin on my face. "That's what family members do for each other. Now go before I change my mind."

She nodded and left to make the call, leaving Dad and me alone.

"So, what's your next move?" Dad asked after a few moments of comfortable silence. "Pre-production will take time, and you'll probably begin shooting next year. And I know you—sitting idle drives you crazy."

"Tobias set up a meeting with Paramount in a few days," I said. "I'll fly to Los Angeles the day after."

"Have you already decided on your next role?"

I shook my head. "No, but they're essentially giving me free rein over their upcoming projects. I can take any film—even if the protagonist isn't my age or type, they're willing to adjust the script for me."

Dad raised an inquisitive eyebrow. "Then why go now? They could've sent you the scripts here. Once you found something you really like, then you could go."

We locked eyes in a brief silence—awkward only on my end.

Finally, I decided to bite the bullet and give him the answer.

"Rihanna wants to move to London to be closer to me," I said hesitantly. "So she'll be coming with me when I come back."

Dad nodded, then casually asked, "So will she be staying in your room, or are you moving out this January?"

I blinked, caught off guard by his bluntness. "You don't mind?"

"Do I mind that my teenage son is planning to live with his girlfriend? To some extent, yes. But I also know I can't really stop you. Next year, you'll be an adult—free to do whatever you want. Rihanna moving in with us is a much better option than you moving out. I just hope you wait before making me a grandfather."

"Ugh, Dad!" I groaned in embarrassment.

Dad chuckled before changing the topic to something else. As we sat and talked about other mundane stuff, I couldn't help but think about what Dad had said earlier.

The idea of leaving my parents' home left a bitter taste in my mouth, but it was inevitable. I loved my freedom too much to stay here forever. Rihanna moving in with me was the perfect solution—except for one small problem.

I hadn't asked her yet.

I guess I'll have to bring it up once I get to Los Angeles.

(Break)

"This is my first time in LA," Benji said excitedly. "Or in a Lambo. Can I drive her?"

"Not a chance in hell," I said without hesitation, pulling around a sharp corner. The car's perfect engineering made the turn feel as smooth as a freeway.

Benji sighed in disappointment.

If he thought I'd let him drive my Lamborghini, he was dead wrong. This beauty was mine and mine alone—I didn't even let my security team drive it when I was in LA.

"I get it, man," Benji said. "If I had a Lambo, I wouldn't let anyone touch it either. Though I prefer Aston Martin."

"You're prioritizing looks over performance," I pointed out.

"I'm not a racer," Benji deadpanned. "If I had the money to buy either, I'd go for the one that looks better. It's not like Aston Martin makes bad cars."

Not wanting to continue the argument, I changed the subject. "Did you go through all the scripts Paramount sent?"

"Yeah," Benji nodded eagerly. "Those and more. I read every fresh script you have right now. Some were great, some were terrible. I made a list based on their potential for box office earnings."

"Oh?" I said, amused. Why do I have a feeling his estimates won't be as accurate as he thinks?

Without looking away from the road, I asked, "Which one did you like the most?"

"There wasn't one that stood out above the rest," Benji said. "But if we're strictly talking about Paramount-backed films, I liked four in particular—one small-budget and three big-budget."

"What's the small-budget one?" I asked.

"[Disturbia]," Benji gushed. "It's a thriller about a teenage boy who loses his father in an accident. Later, he attacks his teacher in anger and gets sentenced to house arrest. Then a new neighbor moves in next door—and the kid starts to suspect he's a killer. It's essentially a rip-off of Alfred Hitchcock's [Rear Window]."

I had seen that movie. In the original timeline, it starred Shia LaBeouf and was a well-made thriller that kept you hooked until the very end. It didn't break new ground, but it was a solid film—one that could serve as my entry point into mild-horror cinema. While the horror elements were minimal, the suspense and tension were enough to make it an enjoyable watch. Benji had made a fine choice.

Since I already knew the story, I stopped Benji before he could narrate the entire plot. "Okay, what else?"

He looked a little put out that I wasn't letting him finish but moved on anyway. "The rest are all big-budget films. The one I know you won't do is [Stardust]."

"Yes," I agreed immediately. "It's based on that Neil Gaiman book, right? I've read it. One magical book-to-movie adaptation is enough for me—I don't need another one right now."

"Knew it," Benji said smugly. "Next are two that you'll have to think carefully about because they both require long-term commitment. If you choose either of them, Paramount will want you to sign on for multiple films. First up: [Iron Man], based on the Marvel comics."

I stopped the car abruptly and turned to him in shock. "What?"

Benji hesitated. "Uh… [Iron Man]? Why did you stop all of a sudden?"

"Because we've reached my parents' place," I said dismissively. "But seriously—they're offering me [Iron Man]?"

Benji shrugged. "I don't know, man. It was in the pile of scripts they sent over. The role requirements say they're looking for an actor in their late 20s to late 30s, but there was a note saying they could consider younger or older actors and adjust the script accordingly."

That was huge. Playing [Iron Man] could completely change my career trajectory—again.

Tony Stark was easily one of the greatest movie characters of the 21st century, if not the greatest. But there was just one small problem.

Robert Downey Jr. brought so much charm and charisma to the role that it was almost impossible for me to imagine anyone else playing him. His portrayal had made me a legitimate fan of the man. 

If they cast me, they'd also have to make major script changes to make Tony Stark younger. A lot younger.

"Do you even want to hear about the last script?" Benji asked. "Because it seems like you're already sold on [Iron Man]."

"Go on," I said. "What's the last one?"

"[Transformers], based on the Hasbro toy line. Obviously, you can only pick one between [Iron Man] and [Transforners], since both will have long conflicting production schedules."

Damn. Not one, but two potential blockbusters to choose from.

If I weighed the two franchises, the biggest and only downside of [Iron Man] was the long-term commitment—it would lock me in for over a decade. [Transformers], on the other hand, offered an easier exit after the third movie, just like Shia LaBeouf.

But then there was the quality issue. The [Transformers] films had a strong start, but after the first one, the sequels were mediocre at best—overloaded with CGI and repetitive action sequences. Meanwhile, the MCU maintained a consistently high standard, from [Iron Man] all the way through to [Avengers: Endgame].

This was going to be a tough decision.

The worst part was that I wasn't even sure if I wanted to jump into another franchise so soon—[Harry Potter] hadn't even ended yet.

"Is that all?" I asked Benji as I stepped out of the car and walked toward the front door, where the housekeeper was already waiting to greet us.

"Well…" Benji hesitated, choosing his words carefully as we entered. His hesitation lasted all of two seconds before he whistled in appreciation. "Wow. This place is sick."

"Focus, Benji," I chided. "You were saying?"

He snapped back to attention. "There wasn't anything from Paramount specifically that I loved, but there were a few independent scripts I think would be perfect for you. You could even consider producing them."

Now I was even more intrigued. "Which ones?"

(Break)

Brad Grey, sitting across from me, looked at me as if I had just grown a second head.

"You don't want to do [Iron Man]?" he asked, completely baffled. "That doesn't make sense. I thought all teenagers would kill for a superhero role."

That was the most difficult career decision I had made in recent times. Playing [Iron Man] could have been so good and fulfilling for me. It was a great role and part of the biggest future film franchise in the whole world. So it was not easy to turn down the role. The thing was that I had to think practically. I still have two more Harry Potter films left, I couldn't sign away the next decade of my life right now. I wanted the freedom to step into the shoes of multiple characters, at least for a few years.

"We're putting an insane amount of money into both [Iron Man] and [Transformers]," Brad Grey continued, unaware of my thoughts. "We've even locked in Jon Favreau and Michael Bay as directors." He leaned forward, eyebrows raised. "We just need a star. Our current choices are solid, but you? You'd blow them out of the water. Just say the word, and we can start shooting in less than a month."

I frowned. "Wait—you're starting production that soon, and you still don't have a lead?" I thought about it for a second before it clicked. "You have someone cast already… but you'll replace them if I say yes."

Brad didn't even try to deny it. "That's how Hollywood works."

That was cold. If someone did that to me, I'd be pissed.

"We'd still pay them for their time," Brad added, misinterpreting my silence. "It's nothing personal, just business."

"Doesn't matter," I said, shaking my head. "I'm not interested. Both films have strong scripts, and under different circumstances, I would have seriously considered them. But I have better ones lined up."

Brad's eyes narrowed slightly. "Better than [Iron Man]?"

"One is [Disturbia]," I said, tilting my head toward him. "That's one of yours if you remember. Definitely not better than [Iron Man], but we can wrap it up quickly."

Recognition lit up his face. "Of course! We're finished with the pre-production. The only issue was casting the lead. I was considering Shia LaBeouf, but since he's already signed up for [Transformers], we'd have to work around his schedule." He gave me an assessing look. "But if you want in, that's perfect."

"I do," I confirmed. "I've been wanting to do a horror or thriller film for a while. This isn't fully horror, but it has enough tension and jump scares to make it worth my time." I paused. "I'll need to make a few script changes, though before we begin."

[Disturbia] wasn't a critically acclaimed movie or a blockbuster. I'm doing it for one simple reason—I liked it. Also, I haven't done a thriller film ever since [The Sixth Sense] and this is perfect to get reacquainted with the genre. My contract with Paramount clearly dictated that I had full creative freedom over any projects I chose.

Brad nodded. "I'm open to hearing your suggestions." Then he leaned back. "So, what's the other one?"

I smiled. "It's called…"

___________________________________________

AN: To those of you wondering why I went in the direction I did for the beginning of the chapter, it's because I held a poll. Not everyone was sold on the idea of adding risque scenes at the moment, until Harry Potter is done and dusted. He will still do the series, but with all the controversial scenes happening off-screen.

Visit my Pat reon to read ahead, or check out my second Hollywood story set in the 80s.

Link: www(dot)pat reon(dot)com/fableweaver