Lawrence didn't interrupt his assistant.
He maintained a stoic demeanor while seated behind the massive walnut desk that had belonged to Harry's late father. Finger clasped together and jaw tense, he listened attentively to the assistant when he read the numbers in what was intended to be a neutral voice.
"The domestic gross has surpassed $250 million; $400 million worldwide, distribution partners are reporting continued demand despite any reduction in screens," read the assistant.
Lawrence gave a slight nod. The number echoed in his head.
$400 million.
This was not how Harry Jackson's story was supposed to end.
Harry was supposed to stumble, he was supposed to shine brightly, then fade quickly; dazed by momentum, before returning, older and wiser, grateful to inherit a place at the table.
Lawrence had envisioned that future many times over. He had envisioned being Harry's mentor publicly while privately guiding him back into the fold as an older, wiser and more benevolent mentor.
Behind closed doors, Harry would have been a puppet. A talented one, yes—but a puppet nonetheless.
Instead, Harry had walked away.
But even more troubling is that he appears to be winning.
Lawrence dismissed the assistant with a casual wave of his hand and leaned back in his chair with a blank expression looking up at the ceiling. Usually, his mind would have been sharp and focused—now, it was a jumble of bitterness and negativity.
Power Rangers alone was a disaster in hindsight. The same merchandise margins he had once referred to as "secondary revenue" were now fueling Fox's quarterly dividends. The toys, clothing, and licensing agreements were making Harry and Fox fortunes off of properties that had been previously owned by Jackson Multimedia.
Bean could now count itself among other evergreen products.
The Walking Dead was now starring in its own series and had taken off with a huge viewership despite his initial claim that it would be "too dark to air on television."
It was at this time that SpongeBob SquarePants was no longer just a TV cartoon but had become a societal reference; kids quoted it in school, and many adults would use it as an example of irony. Store shelves were packed with merchandise for this little yellow sponge who wore square pants.
Breaking Bad was next.
Lawrence snorted out sharp bursts of air from his nostrils like a bull watching the red flag on the bullfighter as the bull charges the flag and the bullfighter.
Fox executives were likely laughing behind closed doors. Not openly, of course—professional courtesy demanded restraint—but they knew. Everyone in the industry knew.
Worse, even, is that Jackson Multimedia forced Harry Jackson out of his position.
Lawrence cursed his past self for not looking closer. For seeing Harry as an inheritance problem instead of a strategic asset. Talent was dangerous when underestimated. Vision even more so.
Harry Jackson didn't just take with him the concepts that he had come up with; he took with him momentum.
The theater industry insulted Lawrence with the names of its theaters—Dream Theatre, FunTime Theatre, totally ridiculous. Those names are childish and laughable, but they are performing better than old-school legacy chains in key markets that have clean facilities, good prices, and great screens.
Harry Jackson understood what Lawrence never factored into his strategy—the consumer experience has regained importance.
As Lawrence reflected on the significance of the acquisition of DC Comics by Warner Bros., he considers the impact that the merger has had on Hollywood. The acquisition alone caused a ripple effect through the industry, and now Warner Bros. is scrambling to catch up, while Disney is ramping up its negotiations with Marvel; thus, the strategies for both companies were rewritten overnight.
The presence of Harry Jackson, and his connections to his mother Rachel Jackson, is proving to be an invaluable asset to both companies, and Lawrence can no longer ignore him.
As he prepares for his next meeting, the door flew open, and he snapped at the person entering.
"What is it, Clara?"
Clara is the epitome of efficiency and professionalism, and she always appears to be under pressure, but today she appears to be a little more disoriented than usual.
"Mrs. Jackson, she's here."
Lawrence's breath caught.
"Here?" he repeated. "That's not possible."
"She didn't ask for an appointment," Clara said. "She's already past reception."
-----
In a spectacular way, the release of the film The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King destroyed all other motion pictures at movie theaters.
Gone were the days when there was only one screen at an entire strip, with many showing the movie at midnight showing. Entire theaters were sold out in minutes. Fans were lined up to see the film wrapping around the building. Movie studios around the globe had to scramble to catch up.
The movie, The Blind Man's Gambit, also lost huge amounts of screens, but there was no reason to panic.
By December, it was too late to panic, anyway.
Fox's distribution team was very content.
With the standard contract, Fox was able to keep only 30% of the gross box office receipts, after the movie theaters took their cut. The international deals were all different, but the average international share for Fox was 25-30%.
In total, Fox made over $100 million from just the distribution of the movie alone.
Harry, through FunTime Pictures, also earned a profit as producers after they recouped the $40 million production costs and the $20 million spent on marketing. By conservative estimates, they made over $120 million in net profits after these costs, in addition to backend and residuals, and long-term licensing fees.
Theaters were thrilled to see the revenue streams from this movie.
October had given them an unexpected surge—repeat viewers, extended runs, premium screenings. December followed with juggernauts. It was the kind of quarter that made annual reports look generous.
Everyone won.
Everyone except Jackson Multimedia.
Harry sat on the edge of the pool at his Los Angeles home, feet in the water, watching Sparky attempt—and fail—to retrieve a floating toy.
Lisa approached with her tablet, already scanning schedules.
"So," she said, "what's next?"
Harry blinked, pulled from his thoughts. "What do you mean?"
"You've wrapped a four-hundred-million-dollar film," she said. "You own a television network footprint, theaters across multiple countries, a comics empire, and a production slate that's scaring studios. What's next?"
Harry leaned back on his hands, staring at the sky.
"I don't know," he said honestly.
Lisa narrowed her eyes. "You're lying."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe I'm tired."
She scoffed. "You don't get tired. You get… distracted."
Harry laughed softly. "Then maybe I'll take a vacation."
Greg looked up. "You went to Bahamas a few months back?"
"Hawaii," Harry said, ignoring Lisa's comment, "Sounds nice this time of year."
Lisa sighed dramatically. "You are impossible."
Harry stood, brushing water from his hands, and whistled for Sparky, who bounded over enthusiastically.