Mid-February 2006, Seoul – Gangnam District, JH Headquarters.
Jihoon sat slouched in his sleek black office chair, legs crossed, eyes slightly glazed as he stared through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the busy streets of Gangnam.
Coffee in hand, hair a mess, and brain running on fumes, he looked every bit like a man teetering on the edge of burnout.
"How did my life get this hectic...?" he mumbled to himself.
It all snowballed so fast.
One moment, he was tweaking the final chorus for SNSD's debut single,
Add to that a handful of mischievous idol girls constantly barging into his studio like it was a cafe, Taeyeon biting him for god knows what reason, and Jieun complaining he barely spends time at home anymore...
Jihoon was running on nothing but caffeine and chaotic energy.
So now, finally back in his own office for what felt like the first time all week, he tried to enjoy a moment of peace.
He took a long sip from his coffee, letting the bitter warmth calm his nerves.
He wasn't here just to breathe, though.
Jaehyun had insisted he return to the office, saying there was someone important who requested to meet him in person.
That alone piqued Jihoon's curiosity. Because Jaehyun wasn't the type to make a big deal out of random visits.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
Jaehyun poked his head in and nodded. "He's here."
Jihoon straightened up as his assistant opened the door wider.
In stepped a man Jihoon recognized immediately — even if the man didn't know him yet.
Jim Gianopulos.
The current Chairman and CEO of 20th Century Fox.
In Jihoon's past life, Jim had been a titan of the film industry.
To the average bystander, he was just another executive in a nice suit.
But to Jihoon — who'd lived through a whole other lifetime — Jim was a force. A giant in the global film industry.
In Jihoon's past life, Jim had taken 20th Century Fox from major studio to box office dominator. Under his leadership, Fox didn't just break records — it rewrote them.
Over $30 billion in box office revenue.
Both 'Titanic' and 'Avatar'. The kind of blockbusters that defined an era.
And it wasn't just about the movies themselves — it was the way he marketed them.
Surgical. Strategic. Visionary.
Jim had seen the future of digital before most studios had even figured out how to spell "streaming."
He'd helped launch iTunes' movie section, and later Hulu, back when executives still thought YouTube was just for cat videos.
To the world, Jim was a successful business executive in the film industry.
To Jihoon, he was a shark but with a conscience — rare, calculating, but fair.
And above all, he was dependable.
Trust wasn't something he handed out freely, but once you earned it, it meant something.
Jihoon stood, putting on his best calm-but-impressed expression.
"Mr. Gianopulos," he said smoothly, stepping forward with an extended hand. "Welcome to Korea."
Jim smiled — the kind of measured, half-smirk that told you he was assessing everything in the room, including you.
"Jihoon, pleasure to finally meet. I've heard good things."
Heard from who? Jihoon thought silently, but just nodded. "Likewise."
They shook hands, firm and brief.
As they sat down across from each other, Jihoon's mind was already spinning.
In his past life, Jim had only taken interest in Asia after Paramount began sinking.
Jihoon still remembered the headlines — Paramount's failed ventures, reckless acquisitions, including DreamWorks, and the resulting hemorrhage of hundreds of millions in operating losses.
It wasn't until Jim came aboard in 2017 that any of it stabilized.
But this is 2006.
In this timeline, it looked like Jim was already eyeing new opportunities. And instead of Paramount coming to check on their Korean distribution pipeline, it was Fox stepping in first.
Which made sense. Paramount, if history repeated itself, was already in internal chaos.
Jihoon leaned back slightly, observing the man across from him.
He doesn't know me. But I know everything about him. That gave Jihoon a rare advantage.
But he wasn't surprised — not really. Not because of ego.
But because the numbers spoke for themselves. 'Your Name' alone, was projected to pull in north of $400 million globally — and that was without factoring in merchandising or streaming.
According to last year's global box office rankings, Jihoon's studio, JH Pictures, was already sitting pretty in the top 10.
Right under 'Night at the Museum', which just happened to be a 20th Century Fox production that grossed $574 million and took fifth place.
In short? Fox wasn't knocking on his door just to be polite.
They were playing chess. Strategic. Calculated. And smart — especially with Paramount still in freefall after a series of financial faceplants.
This was their chance to get ahead in Asia before the other big studios even realized they'd fallen behind.
Jihoon let that all swirl in his mind for a moment, weighing the offer like a chef tasting a sauce — slowly, thoughtfully.
A partnership with Fox meant escaping the sticky fingers of Korea's local chaebols and the shadowy puppet strings that came with them.
That was appealing. Very appealing.
But it also meant something else — a new set of strings.
American ones. Sharper. Invisible. And sometimes wrapped in a smile.
Was he trading one cage for another?
Probably.
But sometimes, cages came with jet fuel.
Still, Jihoon needed to know more.
He leaned forward, elbows on the table, tone steady. "And what exactly does this partnership look like, Mr. Gianopulos?"
Jim gave a small nod, like he'd been waiting for that question.
"We'd be looking to acquire a portion of JH's shares."
"Minority stake, of course — just enough to build a foundation. We understand the potential here. But with Fox involved, JH won't just grow. It'll evolve."
He paused, letting that hang in the air before continuing, "Distribution would only be the start."
"Your films would have access to our entire global network — production, marketing, press, and more. Awards campaigning. Red carpet access. Your name… and your films, they'll be everywhere."
He raised an eyebrow — subtle, but loaded. A signal. One that said: We can make you a household name… in every country.
Jihoon heard it loud and clear.
And yeah — let's not pretend Jihoon didn't feel the pull.
The offer from Fox?
It was the real deal. Prestige. Power. Global reach.
The kind of resources that could fast-track any filmmaker straight into the cinematic stratosphere.
Just the legitimacy alone — to walk into Cannes, Sundance, or the Oscars backed by a titan like Fox — that wasn't small potatoes.
Tempting?
Hell, it was practically gift-wrapped in gold and tied with a red carpet.
But Jihoon knew exactly how this game was played.
Sure, it always started sweet — with handshakes and talk of "creative freedom" and "equal partnership."
But then?
That's when the "feedback sessions" began.
The committee notes. The endless Zoom calls with executives whose only connection to storytelling was watching The Godfather once in college — and quoting it at every meeting like it made them a screenwriter.
Scripts wouldn't just be read — they'd be run through the machine.
Tested, tweaked, trimmed, and tested again.
Dialogue rewritten to match algorithmic preferences. Endings edited for "international marketability."
Characters reshaped — or straight-up erased — to check demographic boxes or satisfy whatever political optics the 21st Century PR department was sweating about that quarter.
All of it… tied up in a bow labeled corporate policy.
And Jihoon? He had no interest in being a pawn on anyone's chessboard — especially not in battles he never asked to fight.
But even aside from all that noise, the real issue was control.
Jihoon wasn't just a director chasing clout or angling for a bigger seat at the table.
He was a builder. A founder.
JH Pictures wasn't just a studio — it was him. His ideas. His fingerprints. His soul.
Sure, he wasn't micromanaging every shoot or obsessing over line items in the budget. That's what his team was for. A damn good one, too.
But the vision? The direction, the tone, the culture of the company?
That came from Jihoon.
Every project that got the green light, every actor cast, every story told — they all came from a blueprint he'd been sketching in his head since long before JH even had an office, let alone a logo.
Because when you give away control — even a sliver — the thing you've built might still have your name on it.
But it stops being yours.
And Jihoon had no intention of becoming a guest in his own house.
So he sat up, hands folded neatly, and gave Jim a polite but firm smile.
"Sorry, Mr. Jim. JH isn't looking to sell shares at this time. We're not expanding in that direction just yet."
There was a beat of silence.
Jim's smile didn't disappear, but his eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
That was not the answer he expected. From where he was sitting, this was a win-win.
Power meets potential. Influence meets innovation. Why turn it down?
But before he could roll out his counter-pitch, Jihoon held up a hand gently.
"But," he added, with a twinkle in his eye, "I do have a proposal I think you might find interesting…"
[Author's Note: Heartfelt thanks to Wandererlithe, JiangXiu and OS_PARCEIROS for bestowing the power stone!]