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The thin stream of blue smoke curled toward the ceiling as Poppy took another long drag from her cigarette.
She leaned back in her leather executive chair, staring at the skyline outside her office window.
"Evans is going to crawl back," she thought, a smirk playing on her lips. "After that second proposal, he doesn't have a choice. I will license Fault in our stars and then I will buy 12 angry men too.They always crawl back when the money gets tight."
Her mind drifted to Michael.
He was playing hard to get, dragging his feet on the extension, acting as though he held all the cards. But Poppy knew the game. Michael was stubborn, sure, but everyone had a breaking point.
Suddenly, the heavy oak door to her office swung violently open, hitting the wall with a dull thud.
Her assistant stood in the doorway, chest heaving, eyes wide with panic as she tried to form words.
"Mrs. Cogan-Poppy, you..." the assistant gasped, clutching an iPad to her chest.
Poppy looked at her incredulously, the cigarette halting halfway to her mouth.
"Breathe, for God's sake. Calm down. What is so urgent that you've completely forgotten how to knock?"
"It's... it's Michael Owen," the assistant stammered, rushing forward and dropping the iPad onto Poppy's mahogany desk. "The press release just went live. Everywhere."
Poppy frowned, leaning forward to look at the glowing screen.
The headline was in bold, glaring letters across a major entertainment news site:
OFFICIAL: Michael Owen Partners with Kyoto Animation for Original Theatrical Anime Feature
Poppy's eyes scanned the text, the blood draining from her face before rushing back in a hot, furious wave. She slammed her hand flat against the desk, the sound cracking through the quiet office.
"Who the hell does he think he is?!" Poppy yelled, standing up so fast her chair rolled backward. "He's making side deals with Japanese studios behind our backs? I should just blacklist him from the company right now! Call legal. I'll make sure he never works with a major distributor again!"
Her assistant flinched but held her ground. "Mrs. Cogan, wait. You can't do that."
"Excuse me?" Poppy snapped, glaring daggers at her.
"The master contract," the assistant said, her voice shaking slightly. "He retained the full rights to the IP. If we initiate a hostile breach or try to blacklist him, the morality and control clauses kick in. If he wants to, he can legally pull our licensing to the live-action adaptation entirely. We would lose hundreds of millions."
Poppy froze.
The words hung in the air like a death sentence. She stared at the assistant, then down at the screen showing Michael's triumphant headline.
Slowly, the fight drained out of her. She sank back down into her chair, her hands trembling slightly as she reached for her cigarette. She crushed it into the glass ashtray, taking a deep, shuddering breath to calm herself.
"Damn it," Poppy whispered, burying her face in her hands. "Damn it all to hell."
________________________________________________________________________________
Halfway across the world, Michael's latest photo dump had hit the internet.
The first photo showed him and Emma standing in front of the Tower of London. The twilight lighting was perfect, catching the golden hues of the ancient stone. Michael had his arm wrapped tightly around Emma's waist, pulling her close, while Emma was looking up at him, her face captured mid-laugh at something he had just said.
The next photo was Michael was fast asleep, his head resting heavily on Emma's shoulder, while she smiled softly at the camera.
The final photo was a wide shot of the two of them walking hand-in-hand through a vibrant garden overflowing with spring flowers.
In a crowded university cafeteria in Chicago, a girl named Chloe practically slammed her phone down onto the table, her eyes wide.
"No. No, no, no. I refuse to accept this," Chloe groaned, dropping her head onto her arms.
Her friend Maya paused mid-bite of her sandwich, raising an eyebrow. "Accept what? Did you fail the psych midterm?"
"Worse," Chloe whined, lifting her head and shoving her phone across the table. "Look. Look at my husband. He's betraying me."
Maya squinted at the screen, looking at the photo of Michael and Emma at the Tower of London. "Oh, wow. That is a really good picture. The lighting is insane. Is that his girlfriend?"
"Yes! Emma," Chloe said, crossing her arms and pouting. "Look at the way he's holding her waist. Do you see how tight his arm is? And she's looking at him like he hung the moon. It's sickening. I love it, but I hate it."
Maya swiped to the next photo. "Aww, wait. The car one is adorable. He's totally passed out on her shoulder. That's actually really sweet."
"Sweet?!" Chloe gasped, clutching her chest dramatically. "Maya, I have had a crush on Michael Owen for three years! I watched all his early interviews! I defended him on Twitter! And now he's out here frolicking in flower gardens and taking naps on some gorgeous girl's shoulder. I'm devastated."
"Chloe, he literally does not know you exist," Maya said, laughing as she handed the phone back.
"That is entirely beside the point," Chloe shot back, unlocking her screen to look at the photos one more time. "Just look at them. They look so normal. Like, they don't even look like celebrities trying to show off. They just look really, genuinely happy. It's annoying how perfect they are."
Across town, in the breakroom of a corporate accounting firm, two junior analysts were waiting for the coffee machine to finish brewing.
"Hey, did you see the Kyoto Ani news?" David asked, leaning against the counter.
"Yeah, Michael Owen, right?" Marcus replied, checking his watch. "Crazy move. Going straight to theatrical anime. But honestly, good for him. Did you see his latest post?"
"The one in London?" David asked.
"Yeah," Marcus chuckled. "My girlfriend sent it to me this morning. She was like, *'Why don't you look at me the way Michael looks at Emma?'* I had to tell her it's because we don't have professional lighting crews following us around."
"I don't know, man, that car selfie looked pretty unedited," David pointed out. "Dude's just knocked out on her shoulder. Honestly, considering the stress he must be under from all the novel writing, finding someone you can just pass out on in the back of a car is a massive win."
Marcus nodded, grabbing his coffee mug. "True. Plus, the garden photo? My girl was going crazy over her dress. I think they're having a good week. Kyoto deal, out in London... guy is winning on all fronts."
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"Michael," Evans said, looking at Michael, who was typing something on his laptop with a cigar in his mouth.
"Hmm"
"Grave of the Fireflies is ready to be released. It will be released on April 16th. That means only 3 months to go," Evans said, looking at him.
Michael looked up at Evans and smirked.