He wasn't interested in the writers' guild; he knew that many screenplays were kept under lock and key within that guild, although after all...
It was a simple guild.
He knew that Casino would go down in film history as one of the best mafia movies ever made, earning Joe Pesci the Oscar for Best Actor.
It was a victory in his pocket, literally.
But he didn't have to sing yet.
He got dressed and began his journey into the big leagues of the film industry.
He knew the industry's power, not only in terms of influence but also its incredible financial capacity to take on huge projects, some even exceeding $100 million.
Casino was a film about the mafia that controlled the Las Vegas casinos with surgical precision worthy of a surgeon. He knew the film was based on real events, although some were changed, adapting certain scenes.
Films released between January 1st and December 31st would be eligible for the Oscar in 1996.
Therefore, films released in 1994 during that period would compete for the Oscar that same year.
Forrest Gump and Pulp Fiction were among the films vying for an Oscar this year.
Barry Meyer, CEO of Warner Bros., was completely overwhelmed by the company's work this year; everything was chaotic, and he could never find peace.
He opened the doors to the meeting room and saw many eyes of all sizes turning toward him.
"So, what do we have to do today, guys?"
...
...
..
"Rejected by them again."
He calmed his thoughts by lighting a cigarette. His eyes lingered on the gray smoke that danced like a ballerina, imagining the smoke choking his lungs from within.
It was a habit he'd picked up from someone, a necessary evil, he called it.
He knew that among all the CEOs of the major film studios, they would do anything to crush their competitors like cockroaches.
And through the cracks forming in the ring, he had to step in to triumph.
He threw the cigarette away and crushed it with his shoe.
He had a plan B, and if that failed, he had a plan C.
As he stretched his legs on that uncomfortable wooden bench, he gazed at the sky, losing himself in the beauty of the clouds in that blue sky that conveyed peace.
He didn't know where his former squad members were... His little brother never knew where he was.
He... well, before being reborn, he died at 80. He had died of a heart attack, his wife and child were gone. Nothing had happened; he was alone in a Russian hospital.
He didn't even know where he was or where they might be.
It gnawed at him like a parasite, like a leech, day and night.
He got up quickly and started walking to put plan B into action.