The matter of the film company was more or less settled. For the four of them, even if the ten million dollars were entirely lost, it wouldn't be an unrecoverable disaster. If the investment turned a profit—just like Ryan's previous films—it could bring in a continuous stream of income.
Ryan went to the car to get his backpack and handed one of the document folders inside to Kingsley. It was the finalized script for The Bodyguard, complete with songs including one titled "Bodyguard".
The script, like his previous works, included many storyboard notes. Ryan had marked suggestions throughout, including a note that Kevin Costner would be the ideal lead actor. Of course, if the studio disagreed, it wasn't a big deal. Hollywood never stops for anyone.
Besides, for this kind of film, as long as they got a passable commercial director—one who didn't get overly artistic—there was virtually no risk of losing money.
The eight additional songs he composed had taken a considerable amount of time and energy. After all, inspiration wasn't something one could summon at will. But Ryan was confident these songs would be just as good as the originals.
In addition, there was a smaller folder. After Kingsley took it, Ryan said, "Pat, once the company is set up, try to acquire the film rights to these books and novels: Malice, Forrest Gump, The Bourne Identity, Interview with the Vampire, and Catch Me If You Can: The True Story of a Real Fake, and some Chinese Novels. Do your best on those; the rest you can decide on as you see fit."
"This is…" Kingsley frowned. "There are even Chinese novels?"
"Yeah. You know I've always been interested in Eastern culture," Ryan responded. "If you have time, take a trip to Taiwan yourself."
Actually, Ryan had compiled a long list. Apart from the few he'd just named, the rest were nice to have but not essential. Originally, he'd also considered adding Stephen King's Different Seasons, but after thinking about it, he gave up on that.
Sure, The Shawshank Redemption, adapted from one of the novellas, was outstanding and is considered one of the best films of the '90s. But does it really deserve to be called perfect? Moreover, it was a massive box-office flop. The reason was simple: in that era, neither general audiences nor the Academy liked prison dramas.
Its later success in the home video market owed a lot to the sympathy it received after being snubbed at the Oscars. If Ryan were to make it and it only won one or two minor Academy Awards, he'd have no place to cry about it.
This was the brutally pragmatic Hollywood. Screw up once, and you lose half your aura—especially if you're a screenwriter.
If that were to happen, should he wait ten years until media retrospectives hailed it a classic, just to get vindicated?
No—let it remain someone else's achievement. That way, The Shawshank Redemption could still go on to become a classic.
With business out of the way, the group began to chat. Soon the conversation turned to Ryan himself.
"Ryan, what happened yesterday didn't seem normal," Kingsley said. Having been in the industry a long time, she instinctively felt something was off.
"That's right," Ryan nodded. "Even from a distance, I could see Tom Cruise sitting in a car across from the school."
"Him?" Nicole's teeth clenched tightly, as if ready to tear someone apart. "Him again? Next time I see him…"
"Nicole, don't worry." Ryan gripped her hand firmly, slowly prying open her clenched fist. "Pat, notify the media we're friendly with. I want to hold a press conference."
…
Another weekend arrived. Many reporters gathered at Disney's headquarters in Burbank—quite a few of them big names in the media world. Their presence meant something important was happening.
Just a few days earlier, media outlets including the L.A. bureaus of the Big Three newspapers in the U.S. had received notice that Ryan Jenkins was holding a press conference. The media, ever sensitive to signals, immediately knew he was going to respond to some of the hotly discussed issues of late.
It wasn't just print journalists who showed up—they also spotted a Fox TV broadcast van.
This had been Ryan's idea. He borrowed Disney's press room and gave the TV broadcast rights to Disney. His goal was to make as big a splash as possible.
Unexpectedly, Disney not only used its own Disney Channel to broadcast the event, but also sold the rights to Fox TV, which left Ryan speechless. Still, it worked out—Fox had far greater reach than the Disney Channel.
Perhaps to show support, both Kingsley and Nicole sat beside Ryan—Kingsley on one side, Nicole on the other. As for the reporters below the stage, they remained orderly—for now, at least, it wasn't a chaotic mess.
"I think everyone's heard what happened a few days ago…" Ryan briefly recounted the incident after school that day. Then he added, "I don't know who they are, and I don't care. My lawyer has already sent a cease-and-desist letter. Their actions endangered my personal safety. I will be filing for a restraining order!"
"But…" one reporter couldn't help but stand up, "they claim to have evidence that—"
"This is not a Q&A," Ryan interrupted coldly. Then he turned to look at the woman beside him. "I'll say it again. In this world, I have only one family. Her name is Nicole Kidman!"
His eyes then turned away from the Australian actress. The warmth vanished from them, replaced by a sharp, blade-like coldness. "To me, those people never existed in my life. Not in the past, not now, and not in the future."
The reporters understood—he was referring to the people who had abandoned him.
"And another thing: you all know what my childhood was like. To me, sperm and egg donors do not equal family. Even if they one day appear before me, I will never acknowledge them!"
This line—destined to become one of Hollywood's classic quotes—came straight from Ryan's mouth. Many reporters who had dealt with him before had never seen this fiery, individualistic side of the boy.
But Ryan wasn't done. He searched for the TV camera and pointed directly at it. "I know you're standing behind the scenes. Since you want a war—fine. The war starts now!"
The room erupted. Some quick-thinking reporters immediately guessed who he meant!
War? A public declaration of war?
While the reporters sat dumbfounded, Ryan pulled Nicole up and walked out of the press conference without a backward glance, leaving Kingsley to deal with the media frenzy.
"Ryan, you…" Back in the lounge, Nicole was at a loss. In this industry, no matter how bitter the feud, it was rare for anyone to go on the record with such direct confrontation.
"Don't worry, Nicole. Don't forget—I'm not even twelve yet. If I act a little rebellious, a little intense, most people won't hold it against me." Obviously, Ryan had thought this through. His age could be a disadvantage—but sometimes, it was a huge advantage.
Adults tend to forgive kids. Besides, Ryan hadn't named names or said anything overly outrageous.
"Alright then." Nicole sighed. Unconsciously, she had started treating him as if he were already an adult.
Just then, Nicole's cellphone rang. She glanced at the screen—New York. She immediately knew who it was. "Ryan, it's Nat."
"Nat?" Ryan froze. This wasn't their scheduled call time. It must be that Natalie had seen the press conference live.
"Nat, what's up?"
"Ryan, did you mean Tom Cruise just now?" Natalie asked on the other end.
"Yes. Everything that's happened recently is connected to him."
"Won't what you said cause trouble?" Natalie clearly sounded concerned.
"Don't worry, Nat." Ryan let out a long breath. "What was I supposed to do—just sit there and take it?"
"Ryan, I know I can't help much right now. But I want you to know—I'll always stand with you. Strike back with everything you've got!" Clearly, Natalie had picked up some of Ryan's rebellious spirit.
"Strike back? You bet. I will…" Ryan suddenly remembered something, paused, then said, "Nat, I'll call you once I get home. I just thought of something."
"Alright. Bye."
Ryan hung up and handed the phone to Nicole, then began searching the room. Just then, the door opened and Carter Eisner walked in.
"Ryan, no matter what, Disney stands behind you!" he announced.
Ryan rolled his eyes. Disney had no ties to Tom Cruise. They'd only switch sides if everyone at the top had lost their minds.
"Nicole, where's my backpack? Thanks."
Ignoring Carter, Ryan pulled out blank sheet music and a pen and sat down, concentrating on recalling a tune.
At Nicole's signal, Carter obediently shut his mouth and stood to the side, fidgeting. He recognized what was happening—Ryan had found inspiration. Judging from the look of things, he was writing music?
Truthfully, other than taking away projects that would've belonged to Tom Cruise in the future, Ryan had no solid way to retaliate. His harsh words might sound tough, but he knew they were mostly for show. Others would likely see them as a child's tantrum.
But what Natalie said had reminded him of how Taylor dealt with her exes in his previous life. Yes—he could write a song. A wildly popular, Billboard-topping hit. One that didn't use profanity or name names, but still made it obvious who it was mocking.
That would turn him into a laughingstock across America—maybe even the whole world. Then again, he already was.
I'm a freaking genius! Ryan burst out laughing, completely unrestrained. Then he looked at Carter Eisner. "Carter, can we go to Hollywood Records now?"