….
[LIE Studios]
Saturday morning arrived, and Regal stood by the glass, looking down at the quiet studio lot below.
His phone on the desk buzzed with a soft hum.
He walked over and picked it up. It was a text message from a local number:
[Jordan:
[Hey, kid. Martha dragged me to the cinema here in Rome on our honeymoon, and somehow your damn movie was playing with Italian subtitles. So much for getting a break from watching you run around making movies.
[The whole place stood up and clapped when it ended, though, so I suppose I can't complain too much. That big guy Rock is a hell of an actor. I probably shouldn't be saying this, but you actually made something pretty damn good.
[Don't let it go to your head. Then again, I know you won't. Proud of you, kid. Now quit making me watch your movies on my honeymoon.]
Regal stared at the screen for a long moment, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
He tapped back a quick reply:
[Eat more pasta, Boss. Let the professionals handle the reviews and enjoy Italy. I will try not to ruin your next vacation.]
He set the phone down and settled into the armchair behind his desk.
As he leaned back, he exhaled, closing his eyes for a few seconds, letting the immense exhaustion of the last five months finally wash out of his bones.
….
The door to his office clicked open softly.
Gwendolyn stepped inside, carrying a small paper bag from the bakery down the street.
She had her hair tied back in a loose clip, wearing a cream sweater, looking relaxed and radiant.
She reached out to him, her fingers lightly brushing through his hair before coming to rest against the warm curve of his neck. "Are you tired?"
"A little." Regal admitted, letting his head tilt back into the gentle cradle of her palm. "It was a long sprint."
"You made an exceptional film, honey." she murmured, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw with slow, deliberate tenderness. "I was skimming the trade reports on the way here. The consensus from London to Berlin is that it's an absolute triumph of practical cinema."
"Credit belongs to the cast and the stunt floor." Regal said quietly, his eyes half-closed as he relaxed into her touch. "Keanu laid his soul bare on that platform, and Rock matched him step for step. Sometimes I still look at the call sheets and can't believe that a drunken brawler we practically dragged off the street ended up coming this far with us."
Gwendolyn leaned forward and gave his forehead a playful little bump.
"Ow… What was that for?"
"Don't call him a street drunk, you idiot." she scolded with a wry, affectionate smirk. "He'd be heartbroken if he heard you talking about him like an alley cat you adopted in the rain."
"Ouch. First of all, unprovoked domestic violence. Second of all, he is my head of security, and he wouldn't mind in the slightest because it happens to be entirely accurate." Regal rubbed his forehead with a grin.
Gwendolyn's expression softened, though she smoothly shifted gears, leaning back against the sofa cushions.
"Be that as it may, Samantha told me earlier that half the talent agencies in Century City have been burning up our switchboards since Monday morning. They're all circling like hawks over a rabbit.
"And honestly, can you blame them? The man delivered a generational, star-making debut in an R-rated genre film. Audiences are practically rioting on social media over his sacrifice. He completely earned the spotlight... which means you ought to take better care of your employee, darling, or someone with a ten-picture franchise contract might just lure him away to greener pastures."
"That would never happen." Regal countered without a second of hesitation, his voice flat with calm certainty. "Not in a million lifetimes... unless you ordered him to pack his bags, of course."
Gwendolyn let out a laugh, shaking her head as a strand of blonde hair fell across her brow. "Oh, please. Don't make it sound like he answers to me."
"He does, and you know it." Regal said, opening his eyes and looking up at her with humor. "You're the only person on this entire studio lot who can make a seven-foot mountain of muscle look guilty."
"That's because I treat him like a human being instead of a personal battering ram." she retorted gently, her fingers drifting back to the nape of his neck, massaging away the tension knotted into his shoulders. "Did he actually see any of the agency offers?"
"Samantha brought the envelopes over yesterday. Three reps showed up with gifts for him. Good espresso, a couple of jackets, even some offers for big action movies."
"And what did he do?"
"He gave the coffee to the lighting guys, handed the jackets to the riggers, and used the pitch decks to write down what he needed from the grocery store." Regal smiled. "Pretty much told them everything they needed to know."
Gwendolyn laughed under her breath. "Of course he did."
She rested her chin on his shoulder, watching the Los Angeles skyline through the dark windows.
"He's found his place, Regal." she said quietly. "People like Rock… don't care about red carpets or magazine covers. He just wants a place he can belong."
Neither Regal nor Gwendolyn knew much about Rock's past. Even after all this time, that part of his life remained a mystery.
They both knew that if either of them ever asked, Rock would probably tell them everything, and they had simply chosen not to.
They trusted him, and that was enough.
If one day he decided to talk, they would listen.
If he never did, that was fine too.
Their relationship had never depended on knowing every detail of each other's past.
"I know." Regal murmured, reaching up to cover her hand with his and lace their fingers together. "That's why he's never been just an employee. He never will be."
"Good." she whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss against his temple. "Because between [Train To Catch], the upcoming [Shaolin Soccer] frenzy, and whatever madness you are planning for… you're going to need that mountain standing between you and the rest of this town."
"Yeah yeah… heard you loud and clear lady."
Gwendolyn smiled, setting a pastry on his desk.
"So." she said, glancing back down at him, her eyes with affectionate curiosity. "What are you going to do now, Mr. Director?"
Regal looked at her, then looked at the stacks of notes sitting neatly in the corner of his desk, the upcoming comic adaptations, the early scripts for the next phase of LIE Studios, and the long horizon waiting ahead.
He reached out, took Gwendolyn's hand in his, and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles gently.
"Right now?" Regal smiled. "I am going to take you to dinner."
Gwendolyn's smile widened, her fingers tightening around his.
"Best script you've written all week." she said softly.
….
.
The seven-day tracking reports from Rentrak and comScore of [TTC] were now being circulated through official and unofficial channels.
It was Friday morning, December 27th; exactly one week since [Train To Catch] was released into three thousand eight hundred theaters across North America.
Simon Lombardozzi and Darren Hayes; the two pillars of behind the scenes of LIE Studios, along with Samantha Cross were also reviewing their reports from the distribution channels.
Simon turned around. "Every time we think we've reached the ceiling, it climbs again."
On the projection, the domestic box office breakdown for [Train To Catch] was displayed:
—------—
] Friday (Opening Day): $38.4 million
] Saturday: $42.1 million
] Sunday: $37.9 million
| Weekend Total: $118.4 million (All-Time Record for a December R-Rated Debut)
] Monday: $22.6 million
] Tuesday (Christmas Eve): $25.2 million
] Wednesday (Christmas Day): $29.8 million
] Thursday: $21.4 million
| Total 7-Day Domestic Cume: $217.4 million
—------—
"In just seven days, it has reached two hundred and seventeen million dollars..." Darren whistled softly, shaking his head. "And that's from a forty million dollar production budget. That's an absurd return. I think I finally understand why even with billions poured into major productions, results like this are so damn hard to reproduce."
"Of course, the ratio of multiplying the profits is simply impossible as the budget grows." Simon nodded.
"Can you guys both stop being self-lauding?" Samantha sighed from aside.
"Aw, come on Sam! Can't we enjoy our own success?" Simon cried.
"You can, but it needs to be stopped at one point." Samantha countered.
"I agree." Derren nodded.
He added as if he hadn't been doing the same thing just a few seconds ago. "We need to focus on other important issues."
"What's the issue?" Derren questioned. "Everything is fine."
Samantha replied. "Don't tell me you haven't checked Twitter this morning?"
"Right…" Derren blinked as if he finally understood. However, his face turns mischievous–
"Whats the issue with that? I actually find it all truly poetic how the highest grossing R-rated film in holiday history is currently trending worldwide under the hashtag `#AbsoluteGarbage`."
Samantha couldn't help but let out a laugh, while Simon visibly winced, pressing two fingers to his temples.
"Don't remind me." Simon muttered.
When that forty second video of the college kid.
Marcus, had first blown up online, it had looked like a PR catastrophe on paper.
The kid had been filmed getting dragged across by his two roommates, sobbing hysterically about how Regal Seraphsail was an emotional terrorist who also ruined his life with [I Want to Eat Your Pancreas].
To make matters worse, the video ended with his friend sarcastically telling a horrified couple in line that the film was "total disaster, unwatchable garbage, zero out of ten."
Within a day, `#AbsoluteGarbage` was climbing the trending charts.
Simon had gone into full studio-defense mode.
Terrified that casual moviegoers browsing their phones would take the clip literally and cancel their weekend plans, he had to contact Regal proposing an emergency copyright takedown and a formal cease and desist against the trio for product defamation.
Regal, however, had simply watched the video multiple times, and even smiled over and over.
He even shared it with Gwendolyn, as if it wasn't related to him at all.
He again said something that really made sense and not at the same time.
"Simon, if the audience genuinely hates a movie, most people don't make a scene. They curse about it for a bit, shrug it off, and move on. They have more important things to worry about by the time dinner rolls around."
"However, when someone is thrashing right after coming out while screaming profanities at the director, that's not hate. That is the highest form of worship the internet knows how to give. Give them their moment."
And fortunately–
Regal's instincts had been accurate.
Within the second day, the internet had fully enjoyed the clip with delight.
When the couple from the video actually posted in the comments.
Admitting they had gone into the screening, spent the entire third act sobbing, and jokingly declared it "absolute unadulterated garbage, 0/10, we're buying tickets to see it again on Sunday"
The whole narrative flipped into pure viral comedy.
Sarcastic, backhanded reviews became the defining meme of the release.
People were posting selfies while weeping and proudly captioning them: "Just survived the worst movie ever made. 10/10, my soul has been crushed."
"It generated twenty million dollars in organic exposure." Samantha noted, shaking her head in amusement. "Audiences who usually avoid zombie films bought tickets just to see if their knees would give out too."
"Fine, you were right." Simon grumbled, though a reluctant smile tugged at his lips. "The meme saved us. But my blood pressure still hasn't recovered."
"And that's not the only thing lighting up Reddit and the trade columns." Samantha continued, bringing up another analytical dossier on her tablet. "The film critics and hardcore cinephiles are fixated on something else entirely–
"The credits."
Darren looked up. "What about them?"
"The film doesn't have any post credit scene." Samantha said.
The room fell silent.
In an era where every major studio releases….
Especially action, comic, and genre films, treating the end credits like an audition for a sequel, [Train To Catch] was a complete anomaly.
Honestly, it was a trend started by Regal himself.
And even the recent [John Wick], and even in all the released MarvelD films, audiences had been conditioned to sit through the end credits just to catch a thirty-second easter egg teasing the next villain or a new cinematic universe spin-off.
At least, Regal and LIE Studios make sure they hold their interest with very well crafted music pieces.
However, many studios that simply copied his style, made the whole anticipation boring, few of the flop films not even getting the second part.
However, with [Train To Catch], everyone who watched it in theatres, simply got taken aback not having any end credit scene. And this simple yet interesting fact got viral on the internet.
"The discussion online is actually pretty interesting." Samantha said, turning her tablet around to show them several forum threads already sitting at tens of thousands of upvotes.
"Calling it the most refreshing theatrical experience they've had in years. Apparently, for once, a LIE Studios film didn't feel like it was begging them to buy another ticket. It just ended."
Simon gave a small grimace. "That's harsh. And honestly, it stings a little, but I suppose there's something positive in that."
"Exactly." Darren said with a nod.
Bzzzt.
Simon's phone vibrated in his pocket.
He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, then looked up. "Damian Prescott is waiting downstairs."
"What are you waiting for?" Samantha replied. "I will tell Regal. Go bring him up."
"On it." Simon pushed himself out of his chair.
"All right, best of luck, gentlemen. I have got work to do." Darren stood as well.
"Same to you." Simon nodded before heading out.
.
….
[To be continued…]
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