Vanity Fair party.
Eric and Spielberg stood in a corner of the main hall; they had been talking for quite a while.
Looking around the venue, although the celebrities attracted the attention of the cameras, and the Oscar statuettes were dazzling,
those truly in the know understood that while celebrities gathering was lively, it ultimately amounted to little substantive effect once the excitement faded.
The real bigwigs, like Eric and Spielberg, preferred to stay out of the limelight. The corners were relatively quieter and more private, but often, important decisions were made there.
So, even though the two were just standing with their backs to the crowd, countless people wanted to approach them.
They hoped to join in, even if it was just to serve tea and water; they wouldn't mind.
This was the entertainment industry, after all. Hadn't Zhang Ziyi even used her hand to catch grape skins to curry favor with Jackie Chan?
However, thoughts remained just thoughts. Their statuses were different; to put it more seriously, there was a class gap.
Not to mention ordinary celebrities, even Spielberg's beloved Tom Hanks and Leonardo DiCaprio could only watch from afar, not daring to approach without being summoned.
"Since we last spoke, I've discussed your proposal with Jeffrey and David. We've had many discussions, and they are very interested in it."
"In fact, Hollywood knows that DreamWorks' biggest weakness is its overseas distribution capabilities. If we can address this shortcoming, it will be very beneficial."
Eric continued to eat: "MGM's global distribution capabilities, while not as good as Disney's, are not weak compared to other companies. Steven, I'm curious how much overseas revenue DreamWorks' previous films have generated."
Upon this topic, Spielberg couldn't help but smile bitterly.
"Before you took over MGM, the major companies had already agreed on prices. In fact, DreamWorks had only two paths: either directly package and sell off overseas distribution rights like titanic, or take a percentage in the 22% to 25% range."
"Only that much! I thought it would at least be fifty-fifty."
Spielberg sighed: "You can ask your father; he knows better than anyone, and he was involved in setting the rules."
"Uh, hearing you say that, I feel like I've become an exploiter too."
"No, there's no such thing as exploitation or being exploited; it's just an imbalance of power. If DreamWorks and MGM swapped positions, I would do the same."
"Steven, you're quite open-minded."
"After being in the industry for so long, you naturally become open-minded about everything. Why dwell on things and make it hard for yourself?"
Eric admired Spielberg's magnanimity, or, to put it less kindly, his resignation.
"Alright, let's talk about the cooperation. If MGM and DreamWorks cooperate, MGM is willing to offer 45% of DreamWorks' film overseas revenue. This is my sincerity."
Upon hearing this, although Spielberg's expression remained the same, a storm surged within him.
He had discussed with Jeffrey Katzenberg and David Geffen many times, and the focus of their discussions was naturally DreamWorks' share, which was the key point of negotiation with MGM.
Negotiation is inherently a process of gauging the other party's psychology and bottom line. The three DreamWorks giants had ultimately settled on a price range of 35% to 40% in their minds.
If MGM was willing to concede to that extent, DreamWorks' efficiency would directly increase by a notch.
Then, even having the animation studio fully support MGM would not be unacceptable, just as Pixar fully supports Disney.
And at the very least, they needed to secure 32%; otherwise, cooperation would be unnecessary.
Spielberg had come with this goal in mind, but what he hadn't expected was Eric's generosity, offering almost half right off the bat.
It was 5 percentage points higher than his highest psychological expectation, and those were all green Franklins.
At this moment, Spielberg was joyful, even ecstatic. A smile on his face, he directly swallowed the bacon from his plate.
Seeing the old man's happy expression, Eric naturally understood his meaning.
At 45%, MGM would earn a bit less, but the benefits were clear: Eric would be the exclusive overseas distributor for DreamWorks' future works, which was like selling more for less profit, with 'less profit' in quotes.
Overall, it was still a gain, and he could also tie DreamWorks' best animation department to his war chariot. Why wouldn't he?
"So, when do we sign the contract?"
"I imagine it will be very soon. Once David and Jeffrey hear this news, they will certainly be willing," Spielberg said with a smile.
"Try to get it done this week."
"Eric, are you in a hurry?"
"Once something is agreed upon, I like to see it finalized as soon as possible. And frozen should also be getting started."
"Alright, I'll call you this week."
After talking with Spielberg, Eric's stomach was full, and the purpose of attending the party had been achieved, so there was no need to stay.
He bid farewell to the old man and turned to leave.
The lamborghini sped along. It was past midnight, and there were few pedestrians on the streets of Los Angeles.
Even if there were, many were hooligans, drunks, or even criminals.
Soon, as he approached Beverly Hills, Eric's phone suddenly chimed with a text message.
"Peter, turn around!"
"Hmm? Where to, boss?" The driver steadily slowed down and turned the car around.
After a pause, Eric said, "You can get out. Find a hotel nearby and stay for the night."
The boss suddenly asking him to get out meant there was certainly a private matter to attend to. As an experienced driver, Peter promptly obeyed.
Beverly Hills was full of luxury hotels. With his salary, he couldn't afford a room there, so this was a good opportunity to experience it, especially since it was on the company's dime.
Eric switched to the driver's seat, and the lamborghini continued to speed, quickly entering the Beverly Hills area, but not heading towards the Cooper Family's location, instead driving in the opposite direction.
He arrived at his destination shortly, a magnificent mansion no less impressive than the Cooper Family's.
He didn't wait long before a red Rolls-Royce caught up from behind, slowing down as it approached the lamborghini.
The window rolled down, and Nicole Kidman threw him a flirtatious glance: "Follow me."
Under her guidance as the owner, entering the mansion was natural.
The two cars smoothly parked in the open-air garage. As Eric got out, he was enveloped by a fragrant breeze and pushed against the car door.
"Here?"
His response was met with cold lips.
"Hiss!"
Suddenly, feeling a sharp pain in his tongue, Eric pushed Nicole Kidman away.
"Why did you bite me? Are you drunk?"
Nicole Kidman's eyes were hazy: "No, alcohol can't make me drunk, but seeing your young and handsome face, I couldn't help but want to bite it hard."
"Alright, it seems you really are quite drunk. Then let me help you sober up," Eric said fiercely.
With that, he stepped forward, picked the woman up, and placed her on the hood of the car: "See? This space is more suitable."
Rip!
A crisp sound cut through the dark night sky. The woman's dress was torn, the evening gown worth tens of thousands of dollars becoming ropes for binding.
Eric pressed against Nicole Kidman's back, gently kissing her cheek.
The woman felt a fire burning in her chest, unstoppable even in the cold winter night. A low murmur sounded in her ear.
"What do you want?"
Without any hesitation.
"Possess me, intensely possess me!"
"Ah!"
The sun was high in the sky, shining into the bedroom and onto Eric's face, as he slowly awoke.
Hearing the sound of water from next door, Eric got out of bed and walked towards the bathroom.
After finishing in the garage last night, the two returned to the room to continue their harmonious life.
They drank and made love until both were exhausted and fell into a deep sleep without even showering, losing track of how long it lasted.
"Youth is truly wonderful. If it were before transmigration, playing like this would have me in bed for a whole day."
Pulling open the bathroom door, Nicole Kidman was under the shower, washing her hair.
Seeing Eric, she immediately complained, "It's all your fault. Now my hair is sticky and so uncomfortable."
Eric shrugged, making an innocent expression: "How can you blame me?"
"Then couldn't you have been a bit more precise?" Nicole Kidman said with feigned anger.
"You weren't like this last night, women, huh."
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing, I mean, let me help you."
"Hmm, you help me untangle my hair. Yes, just like that. Make sure it all gets rinsed."
"Wait, where are you touching? Take your hand away quickly, I don't want to take another shower, hahahaha."
On the sofa, both wore warm bathrobes. The curtains were drawn, making it feel like night even though it was daytime.
The fireplace blazed, and the American version of The Ring was playing on the home theater.
But their attention was clearly not on the movie, even as Sadako crawled out of the well.
"Nicole, I feel very strange. Yesterday we were at the Oscar ceremony, our first meeting, and now you're in my arms. It's a magical, incredible feeling. Do you feel it too?"
Nicole Kidman nodded slightly: "Yes, but I don't know why. I think perhaps it's catharsis."
"Catharsis? You're using me as a tool for catharsis?"
Eric frowned. Although he had told Chloë Sevigny that everyone was a tool, no one truly wanted to be used by others.
Nicole Kidman raised an eyebrow, asking playfully, "Little one, does that answer make you uncomfortable?"
"How should I put it… a little bit."
Nicole Kidman climbed out of Eric's arms, wrapped her arms around his neck, kissed him, and said, "Don't think like that, Eric. It's actually not about you. It's the experiences of these past few years. I needed an opportunity to vent my emotions."
Eric looked at her, listening quietly.
"Everyone knows that Tom Cruise and I had an 11-year marriage, but in 2001, we divorced. That process was very difficult."
"At that time, I came to Hollywood from Australia. As an unknown newcomer, I faced immense pressure and competition, as well as potential unspoken rules at any time."
"Then Tom Cruise appeared. At 23, I married him, and from then on, I became a woman envied by everyone."
"He used his power to shield me from storms and secure good resources for me. I never denied this, even when mocked by the media and many people."
"He was truly good, except for one thing, which was the fundamental reason for our divorce: he believed in Scientology, and I am Catholic."
"Although this denomination is called'Scientology,' it is not scientific at all. Its doctrines are bizarre and unbearable."
"My father is a psychologist, so I always advised Tom Cruise to stay away from Scientology. It had some effect at first."
"But then I faced retaliation from Scientology. Those followers brainwashed Cruise even more intensely, seeing me as a thorn in their side."
"They tracked me, bugged me, harassed me constantly, bribed the media to spread dirt, portraying me as a disgusting woman."
"Even the children we adopted were actually children of followers, and these two little ones also grew to dislike and resent me under Scientology's influence."
"Until 2001, Cruise suddenly filed for divorce. You know, at that time I was still pregnant with his child. I think it might have been that Scientology worried Cruise would become uncontrollable within the church after the child was born. In any case, the marriage suddenly ended."
"At the time, I thought, let it end. I even laughed happily. But those guys had no intention of letting me go."
Nicole Kidman paused, seemingly recalling many unpleasant things.
"Perhaps fearing we would reconcile, Scientology quickly arranged a new girlfriend for Tom Cruise, and continued to smear me, track me, and secretly photograph me."
"The rhetoric grew more and more intense. I became a harlot who deliberately latched onto Cruise, and without him, I would be worthless."
"Even Isabella and Connor, even my own children, saw me as the villain who framed their father."
"Because of this, I had to prove myself. I had to let those people know that even without Tom Cruise, I was no less than anyone else."
"I took on moulin rouge. To play the role well, I broke one of my ribs and fractured another, but I had to win the Oscar Winner."
"Unfortunately, I lost to Halle Berry, and then those people jumped out again, calling me a manipulative woman who marketed her suffering and effort."
"Without achievement, I couldn't refute them, but this time I succeeded. I can make that group of vicious devils shut up. I can prove that I am not a useless woman dependent on Tom Cruise. I can stand in front of everyone and loudly declare, 'I am Nicole Kidman, an Oscar Winner.'"
As she spoke, she suddenly burst into tears. For a woman who had struggled in Hollywood for over a decade to cry, it showed how much grievance she had hidden inside.
Sighing, Eric held Nicole Kidman tightly.
He understood the woman's feelings, and he had simply appeared at the most opportune moment.
They embraced for a long time, until the movie ended and Nicole Kidman's tears were wiped away.
"Uh, Nicole, can I ask you a question?"
"Hmm?"
"If someone else had saved you at the awards ceremony, would you have…?"
"No, what are you thinking?!" Nicole Kidman glared at him.
"Uh, then why us?"
Nicole Kidman twisted like a water snake, wrapped her arms around Eric's neck, and whispered in his ear, "I don't like ugly guys."
"Hmm, that's an acceptable reason."
"Don't talk, kiss me!"