James Cameron was a director who deeply understood the power of promotion because he knew just how crucial it was for a movie's success. A great film, when backed by a $200 million marketing campaign, could rake in over $400 million in revenue. But the same film with only $20 million spent on marketing? It might not even break $40 million at the box office.
Of course, that was only if the movie was good. If the film itself was weak, no amount of money could guarantee box office success.
Publicity was essentially about throwing money at visibility—making sure people knew the film existed, whether it was about to premiere or already out.
So it wasn't hard to imagine what would happen after today's press conference. Once the media coverage rolled out, once viewers started talking, once the buzz fermented, millions of people would know that Laila Moran was planning to shoot a film "rumored to be aiming for the #1 highest-grossing spot in cinema history."
Cameron, a man never stingy with his marketing budgets, instantly recognized what Laila was doing. When he'd first seen those smears and slanders about her, he'd laughed, wondering how badly that wave of filth would throw this young up-and-comer off her game.
Who would've guessed that she'd turn the whole mess around and use it to her advantage? With just this one press conference, she'd likely secured herself a few extra hundred million at the box office.
The rest? That would depend on her skills—on whether she could truly make a film capable of dethroning Avatar.
Though shocked by the brilliance of her strategy, Cameron still had unwavering confidence in himself.
Three billion wasn't a joke. No one had even hit $1.8 billion before Avatar—and now she thought she could leap past that by another $1.2 billion?
Back at the press conference, things were still going on.
"Director Moran, if you're shooting a new film, does that mean your originally planned project is being scrapped?"
This was one of the things Laila had been struggling with internally. She had already decided to begin production on a new film later this year, but then all the drama exploded. Now that she had chosen to act, it became an either-or decision.
"That film will be postponed for now," Laila replied, "but not for long. We'll pick it back up by the end of the year or early next year."
According to her plan, four to five months would be enough to finish shooting the new film and coordinate with the VFX teams. Post-production tasks could be managed remotely online. She was confident she could handle both projects—filming one while overseeing the other, which happened to be The Avengers.
Of course, others didn't share her confidence. One reporter, upon being selected, asked:
"You're tackling two films at once—and one of them is supposed to challenge the highest-grossing record in history. Are you sure you can pull this off?"
Even though she wasn't shooting both simultaneously, there would be an overlap. Was this the way to break a record—dividing her focus and energy like this?
Naturally, Laila had her doubts too. But her face gave nothing away—she met the camera head-on with calm, powerful assurance and said:
"I will answer all doubts with my films.
Since arriving in Hollywood at eighteen, I believe I've done some decent work.
Now, with the experience I've accumulated, I want to give it everything I've got—
and aim for something greater."
"I don't deny that part of my decision was influenced by recent public opinion. I am a woman—that's a fact, and I won't argue it.
For those saying I used underhanded means to win awards, or that my films were never deserving of recognition, my response is in the work itself.
Go see the movie. Find your answer there."
Over more than two hours, Laila handled the flood of questions with poise and composure. She showed the world a version of herself that was resilient, steady, and utterly unshakable. So much so that by the next day, several media outlets were calling her the ideal successor to the Moran Group.
Just her presence alone outclassed most other company heirs by miles. The result? Moran Media's stock saw a solid spike the following day—a pleasant surprise indeed.
Even before the reporters had left the building, the topic of Laila had already begun to dominate the internet.
It started with the livestream audience. Once they confirmed that Laila wasn't quitting Hollywood or filmmaking, they were thrilled. But that was quickly followed by heated debate—was she just blowing hot air? Could she make a film that would surpass Avatar?
Cooper was one of the people who watched the livestream, mostly so he could "know the enemy."
His reaction? A scoff and a sneer.
His thoughts mirrored those of many skeptics: If breaking box office records were so easy, why hadn't anyone even cracked $1.8 billion before?
And now this woman dares to claim she'll topple $3 billion? What a joke!
The truly maddening part was how many people believed her.
Cooper couldn't understand it—after everything, after all his behind-the-scenes manipulation, after he'd successfully pushed so many fans into turning against her… one press conference, and half of those fence-sitters went right back to supporting her.
Every time someone raised a doubt about Laila, someone else would immediately quote what she'd said:
"I will answer all doubts with my films."
Even the trolls had no comeback for that. Cooper and his cronies were forced to temporarily back off.
Until the film came out, they had no way to attack her. But once it did, they'd have plenty of chances to strike—
Tear her down, crush her dreams, and send her straight to hell.
Break the record? Please. That was three billion dollars. Be serious.
But that was precisely Laila's plan: as long as people stayed fixated on the magnitude of her claim, the chaotic noise from before would be drowned out.
And that would buy her the one thing she needed most—a quiet period to focus on making her film.
She wasn't a god. She couldn't pretend not to care about the world's opinions.
All she could do was push those voices as far away as possible—out of earshot, out of mind.
And now, with her fans stepping up to drown out the haters, she couldn't have asked for more.
At the same time, news outlets finally unleashed their flood of articles.
Each approached Laila's statement from a different angle. Many focused on her bold declaration to break the all-time box office record—that was, unsurprisingly, the headline that spread the fastest.
It helped that Laila's reputation in Hollywood was massive.
If any other director had said something so outrageous, they'd have been laughed off the stage and probably wouldn't dare show their face in public for a while.
But this was Laila Moran—the first female Oscar-winning director in Hollywood history, the youngest to ever win Best Director, and the one behind countless box office milestones.
When she said something—even something that sounded absurd—you couldn't just dismiss it.
You had to stop and think:
What if she means it?
What if… she can do it?