"One for Best Actor, one for Best Director," said Harvey Weinstein in the elevator, extending two fingers before adding a third. "And Best Picture too!"
A smug grin spread across his plump face. "The Artist is the biggest winner! I'm still the winner!"
No one could deny that, not even Matthew. The just-concluded Oscars had clearly crowned The Artist and Harvey Weinstein as the ultimate victors.
Elizabeth Olsen had already let go of Matthew's arm. Having been in the entertainment industry for years, she'd heard plenty of stories about Harvey Weinstein and had often been advised never to cross the powerful, influential man.
Matthew noticed Elizabeth's withdrawal and wasn't surprised. After all, Anne Hathaway had once reacted similarly in a tough situation. Hollywood stars, himself included, were nothing if not pragmatic.
He didn't mind too much about Elizabeth, but a thought flashed briefly through his mind. Compared to some, people like Anne Hathaway and Elizabeth Olsen were quite ordinary.
But he needed to stay in character for the show he was putting on for Harvey Weinstein, so he dismissed the thought.
Matthew let out another yawn, looking visibly weary. With a hint of irritation, he began, "Oscars…"
He was interrupted by the sudden ringing of a phone.
Everyone turned to Elizabeth Olsen, who quickly opened her purse, checked her phone, and answered, sounding surprised. "What? What did you say? I understand! I'll head over right away!"
After hanging up, she slipped her phone back into her purse, lowered her voice, and apologized. "Sorry, Matthew."
She continued, loud enough for Harvey Weinstein to overhear, "My sisters are also at the hotel, and there's an emergency. I need to go over there now."
Matthew waved her off. "Go ahead."
Elizabeth turned and hurriedly left, breathing a sigh of relief once she was out of the elevator. Glancing at her phone again, she felt fortunate that she'd gotten a call when she did. Staying in that elevator could have spelled trouble for her later.
Would Matthew hold a grudge against her? Elizabeth wasn't too concerned; he was known as a friend to women, with a good reputation in that regard—unlike Harvey Weinstein, who was infamous for his underhanded treatment of women.
In the elevator, Harvey Weinstein chuckled derisively. "A smart girl, isn't she?"
Matthew sniffed nonchalantly, dodging the question. "Harvey, do you think those Oscars for Best Picture, Director, and Actor will bring in an extra ten million dollars for The Artist?"
Harvey's eyes narrowed as realization struck. "So you were the one behind that media buzz?"
Since the limited release of The Artist, there'd been a strong narrative in the press labeling it a "money-grabbing black-and-white film." This criticism had significantly affected the film's marketing, and opening results had been dismal, with no single theater managing to bring in more than $5,000 in a week.
For a black-and-white silent film, low audience reception wasn't unusual, but Harvey was accustomed to pulling audiences into his Oscar-nominated films, regardless of whether they actually liked them. However, someone had managed to set a negative tone early, making it hard for him to draw crowds in with the allure of "artistic value" and "Oscar prestige." Even after the nominations were announced and the film's release expanded, the box office was still meager, barely reaching $5 million domestically.
This was the lowest-grossing of all eight films nominated for Best Picture this year.
He'd been searching for the culprit behind the smear campaign and now realized it was none other than the one person he loathed most.
Matthew neither confirmed nor denied this, instead continuing with his earlier comment. "Oh…" He pretended to stifle another yawn, then said, "I heard you spent nearly ten million dollars on The Artist's Oscar campaign? Quite an investment. Those Oscars are really something to envy!"
While it sounded like praise, there was an undertone that made it seem otherwise.
Bob Weinstein, who knew Weinstein Company's finances inside and out, was fully aware that although The Artist had triumphed at the Oscars, it was far from profitable.
Thanks to Harvey's single-minded strategy, Weinstein Company had spent over $35 million on The Artist—on buying the rights, marketing, and Oscar campaigning.
If The Artist failed to generate substantial revenue after the Oscars, it would result in a massive loss.
Would The Artist be a box-office hit? Harvey was optimistic, confident in his Oscar strategy, but Bob wasn't. The film's momentum had been derailed, and it would be impossible to recover.
Most critically, this was a black-and-white silent film!
In this day and age, black-and-white silent films only appealed to nostalgic old-timers. How many viewers actually enjoyed them?
He'd opposed Harvey's handling of the project from the start. He had been firmly against it, but his influence within Weinstein Company was far less than Harvey's.
Harvey might still believe that winning an Oscar meant winning everything, but Bob understood that The Artist was poised for a loss.
Could a black-and-white silent film really draw in large audiences? Despite the expanded release, it hadn't even made $5 million at the box office. Even with the Oscar boost, they'd be lucky to make it to $10 million.
And internationally? Apart from a few countries in Europe, where would there be any demand for a film like this?
To make matters worse, the European rights weren't even theirs!
Weinstein Company could only market The Artist outside Europe. Even if they managed a few million overseas, after splitting revenues with theaters and distributors, how much would really be left?
Could they hope for decent revenue from DVD or TV licensing sales? Likely not. This kind of niche black-and-white silent film wasn't going to sell well in ancillary markets.
Bob could see that if they kept following this path, Weinstein Company was headed for a fall.
Harvey's expression darkened as he watched Matthew's apparent fatigue. Ignoring the remarks about The Artist, he noted with barely concealed glee how Matthew's tired demeanor mirrored the typical signs of withdrawal.
He wasn't an actor, and despite his efforts to hide his satisfaction, a trace of it slipped through.
"I'm not going to argue with you. It's pointless," Harvey said, noting how much Matthew resembled a junkie. Suddenly, he lost interest in the exchange.
There was no need to do anything further. If he simply waited, time would bring Matthew Horner down!
It seemed Amber Heard had done her job well.
Matthew had practiced this role of a junkie and performed it effortlessly. Sniffling awkwardly, he said, "Harvey, let me know once The Artist breaks even."
With that, he sidestepped Harvey, entering the elevator.
Meryl Streep watched the doors close, noticing how Matthew yawned again, as though utterly exhausted.
Wasn't he famous for his energy? Yet he looked… well…
She'd been in Hollywood long enough to recognize the signs of withdrawal.
Matthew Horner had a drug problem?
Surprised at first, Meryl found the idea plausible. A man of his taste for excitement experimenting with drugs wasn't that far-fetched, was it?
When the elevator doors closed, Meryl leaned in close to Harvey and whispered, "Matthew Horner seems to have a drug habit."
Since she could curry favor effortlessly, she didn't mind doing so.
Harvey's smug smile briefly returned. "Yes, he certainly looks the part."
All indications suggested that Matthew Horner had walked right into his trap without the slightest awareness. For now, let him have his little wins. In time…
Harvey's plans would advance as Matthew's dependency deepened.
The group exited the elevator. Meryl excused herself to the restroom, and Bob Weinstein stepped forward, speaking quietly. "Harvey, about Matthew…"
Harvey raised a hand, cutting him off. "No need to discuss this further. I know what I'm doing."
Hearing this, Bob swallowed his words, pausing to watch Harvey walk away, knowing that trying to persuade him was futile.
Matthew didn't go up to his room. Instead, he headed straight to the hotel's main lobby, calling his driver to bring the car to the front entrance.
Standing by the glass walls, he briefly thought about Elizabeth Olsen's sudden exit, finding himself disinterested. Such reactions weren't rare.
From his early days in Hollywood, he'd encountered countless women like her, each appearing smart and self-assured.
Compared to them, the few naive women seemed rare.
Just then, a Mercedes van pulled up in front of the hotel, and as Matthew was about to step outside, he heard the sound of high heels behind him, followed by Elizabeth Olsen's voice.
"Matthew, can I say something?"
_________________________
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! $5 for all!!]
[w w w . p a t r e o n .com / INNIT]
[+50 PowerStones = +1 Chapter] [+5 Reviews = +1 Chapter]