AN: Here you go bonus chapter. So, don't hold back those powerstones.
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[That Night – 11:00 PM] [New Titan Studios HQ, Alex's Office]
The floor was mostly dark. Only a few lights from the editing suites down the hall are still on. Alex pushed open the glass door to his office. Rachel walked in behind him, carrying two mugs of coffee, one in each hand.
Inside, waiting with quiet patience, was Peter Jackson. He sat in the leather chair across from Alex's desk. He had been there for hours, but he didn't look restless. His eyes tracked Alex with the kind of curiosity reserved for people who understood obsession.
"Peter," Alex said immediately, his voice apologetic. "I'm sorry. The shoot ran long and then I had to clean up. Not the way to host someone of your stature."
Peter smiled faintly. "You're a filmmaker. I expected no less. I've had longer waits for smaller things."
Rachel placed the coffees on the desk and walked out quietly.
Alex sat in his chair, exhaling as he leaned back. "Alright. You've got something for me."
Peter reached into his satchel and placed a small USB drive on the desk. He slid it toward Alex. "That is King Kong. The cut, the mix, everything. Trailer's on there too. It's ready. It's your call now. You are the studio, the distributor, the campaign. Whatever you decide, it all begins and ends with you. And once again, thank you for the extra budget. Thanks to that, I was able to create a movie according to my vision without compromising a single bit."
Alex tapped the drive lightly with his finger, then plugged it into his laptop. The soft whir of the fan rose as he opened the file directory. He clicked the trailer first.
The screen filled with the image of fog-shrouded seas, the old freighter cutting through the waves. Within seconds, Kong's roar thundered through the speakers, deep and primal. Alex watched intently, his expression unreadable. The trailer built to its crescendo: Starting from the dense jungle to Kong atop the Empire State Building, planes swarming around him, a beast roaring against the inevitable.
'Freaking hell! This is dope. The effects are way better than what I imagined. I can't wait to watch the movie,' He thought.
When it ended, Alex sat still for a few moments. Then he shut the laptop. "It's perfect," he said simply.
Peter's face softened with relief.
"I'll drop the news tomorrow," Alex continued. "A timer on YouTube, twenty-four hours before the trailer goes live. We'll start a clock, build the fire, and let the anticipation cook. By the time they see Kong, the entire world will be looking up."
Peter nodded. "And the premiere?"
"March first," Alex said firmly. "That gives us the perfect window. Long enough for the hype cycle to peak, not so long that momentum dies. March will belong to King Kong."
For a while, silence filled the room.
Then Alex pulled open his desk drawer. He reached inside and withdrew a thick folder. He placed it on the desk, sliding it toward Peter with the same deliberation Peter had used with the drive.
Peter glanced at the cover. The words were simple, typed on standard paper: The Hobbit – Draft One.
His brow lifted slightly. "So this is it," he said. He looked up at Alex. "You sure about this? I mean, this is big. You sure you want to trust me with this?"
Alex leaned forward. "Yes. I'm sure. This is the starting point. The doorway into something much bigger, and this will probably be the biggest budget movie series ever made. The only question I got for you is..." He leaned forward with a challenging smile. "Are you up to this challenge?"
Peter opened the folder, skimming the first few pages. His eyes flicked over the words but he closed it again quickly, tapping the cover. "I can not approach this the usual way. This is big and with you putting your trust in me... I can't mess this up. So, I need time with this. I need to sit with the characters, hear their voices, understand what makes them more than ink on a page. I owe them that much before I even think about how to bring them to life."
"That's fair," Alex said. "Take as long as you need. But understand, this is not just one story. This is the first of six."
Peter blinked. "Six?"
Alex nodded. "Three for The Hobbit. Three for what comes after. The Lord of the Rings. That's the full cycle. This world doesn't fit in one or two films. It needs space to breathe. To grow. To become myth in motion."
Peter leaned back in his chair, thoughtful. "Six films is an odyssey. That's a decade of work, at least. The scale is staggering. How certain are you that audiences will follow us that far?"
Alex's eyes narrowed with conviction. "Because the world I've written is not just about dwarves and dragons. It is about corruption, power, temptation, loyalty, and loss. These are not children's tales. These are myths shaped for a modern age. People will follow because these stories speak to the things they already carry inside. They just haven't seen them this way yet."
Peter drummed his fingers against the folder. "You're talking about building a cinematic mythology. A foundation. If we get this right, it will be unlike anything ever put on screen."
"That's the point," Alex said. "Cinema needs a mythology of its own. Something that doesn't borrow from Shakespeare or ancient Greek texts, but stands beside them. The Hobbit is the beginning. The Lord of the Rings is the reckoning."
Peter gave a small laugh. "You make it sound inevitable."
"It is inevitable," Alex replied without hesitation. "We are not just making movies. We are shaping a legend. But it will take time. Precision. And a commitment that does not bend when things get difficult."
Peter grew quiet, staring at the folder for a long while. His mind was already turning, imagining the scale, the sets, the design, the cast, the pressure. Finally he looked up. "Three Hobbit films. Then three more for The Lord of the Rings. I guess there will be recurring cast, where possible. Each connected, one leading into the next?"
"Exactly," Alex said. "The story is already mapped. I've completed The Hobbit series and the books will hit the market in a few weeks. The Lord of the Rings is underway. When it's finished, you will have the complete vision in your hands. All I need from you is to use your 1000% and bring this vision to life."
Peter exhaled slowly. "You realize what you're asking me to do will define our career. Maybe even consume it."
"Yes," Alex said calmly. "But ain't it fun to push the boundaries and do something big and reckless for once? I'll burn money and give the world a mythical series on paper. You'll turn that into movies and give the world the best damn movie they have ever seen in their life so far. This is gonna be fun." He smiled casually.
The weight of that hung between them.
Peter finally reached forward and closed the folder again, drawing it toward him. "Then I'll start here. With The Hobbit. I'll read it, I'll learn it, and when I know it well enough to see it in my sleep, I'll come back to you with a plan."
"That's all I ask," Alex said.
"Just out of curiosity, why aren't you directing this series? You are a far better director than me or anyone else in the industry... So?" Peter asked out of curiosity.
"First of all, I'll take that compliment. Secondly, while you work your ass off creating that first movie, I'll be making a Superhero movie. It'll be the restart of the superhero genre again, so as you know... reviving a dead genre is hard. I'll probably be too busy to even sleep," Alex explained.
"Well, if anyone can do it, it's you," Peter said as he took the folder and stood up. He looked at his wristwatch. "And it's too late. I'll clear up my schedule and drown myself in this." He held the folder before Alex. "By any chance, do you have any paintings or sketches of this world or characters?"
"Yeah, I got some. I'll have Rachel mail you tomorrow," Alex replied.
"Great. So, good night, Alex," Peter said with a smile.
"Good night, Peter," Alex said as he stood up from his chair.
...[A few minutes later]...
Rachel stepped in, holding her phone in one hand, the faintest smirk already tugging at her lips. Without a word she locked the door behind her.
"Long night?" she asked.
"Getting longer," Alex replied.
Instead of heading to the couch or one of the guest chairs, she walked straight to him, as if his lap were the only logical destination. She slid down without hesitation, her arms looping around his neck.
"You didn't even wait five minutes before invading my personal space," he teased.
"You don't have personal space. Not from me," she said, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.
He gave her a sideways look. "How dare you seduce your boss at work? Pretty sure that's illegal in at least three countries."
She tilted her head, grinning. "Good thing we're not in those countries." Another kiss, this one on the corner of his mouth.
He caught her chin gently and kissed her back, slow and playful. When they finally pulled apart, Rachel leaned her forehead against his.
"You look like your brain is still three meetings ahead," she murmured.
"Maybe it is," he admitted.
"Well, bring it back. I have questions."
"Oh boy." He leaned back in his chair, keeping her balanced on his lap. "Do I need a lawyer for this?"
Rachel's smile thinned into something more mischievous. "Why are you sending Chloe Decker flowers and chocolates every day?"
That caught him off guard. He blinked. "That's what this is about?"
She arched an eyebrow. "Don't play dumb. It's been a week, Alex. A week. Do you know how many bouquets that is? How many little gold-ribbon boxes? My florist contact is getting rich off your stubbornness."
He laughed under his breath. "And you're keeping track."
"Of course I'm keeping track," she said. "Because she hasn't even said thank you. Not once. No text, no call, no note. Nothing. You're just… tossing gifts into the abyss."
Alex tapped his fingers against her thigh, considering. "Is someone jealous because I never gave them flowers or chocolates?"
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Maybe. But that's not the point. Be honest. Why keep doing it if she's not responding?"
His expression softened. He looked at the far wall as if the answer were written there. "Because sometimes people don't reply right away. Sometimes silence is part of the process. You don't send flowers to get flowers back. You send them because you mean it."
Rachel studied him closely. "So what are you trying to say to her?"
"Nothing complicated," he said after a beat. "That she deserves to be reminded, every day if necessary, that someone thinks about her."
Rachel tilted her head, lips curving in a mix of amusement and exasperation. "You are either the most romantic man alive or the most stubborn fool I've ever met."
"Why not both?" He gave her a crooked smile.
She let out a laugh, shaking her head, then rested against him. "You're lucky I find your brand of foolishness entertaining."
"Lucky is one word for it," he said, kissing her forehead.
For a while, they sat like that, trading small smiles and a few more stolen kisses. The room was still dim, the city outside their only backdrop.
Finally, Rachel broke the silence again, her voice teasing but quieter. "So… if she still doesn't respond by next week, what then? Another round of roses and truffles? Or do we escalate to serenading under her window?"
Alex chuckled. "If I ever sing under someone's window, you'll be the first to know."
"Good," Rachel said, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "Because I'd pay good money to see that."
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[POWERSTONES AND REVIEWS PLS]
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