Dame Judi Dench, last year's winner of Best Supporting Actress, walked to the stage, carrying the blasted envelope that would probably give away the award to Tom Cruise or perhaps Michael Caine.
"This year's nominees for Best Supporting Actor cover a wide range, from a relative newcomer to a huge star. From a small boy to a man who's downright huge. Here are the nominees: Michael Caine in [The Cider House Rules]; Tom Cruise in [Magnolia]; Michael Clark Duncan in [The Green Mile]; Jude Law in [The Talented Mr. Ripley]; and Troy Armitage in [The Sixth Sense]."
I clapped politely as all the nominees' names were called out. When my name was called out, I grinned at the cameras before returning to Judi Dench. While my exterior visage may not show it, I was sweating bullets on the inside. Despite knowing that getting that award was next to impossible for me, I still wanted it badly. I don't know how accurate my fake smile would be when my name is not called out.
"And the Oscar goes to," Judi Dench opened the envelope, and looked at it for a few moments, before looking up and saying into the mic, "Troy Armitage for [The Sixth Sense]."
I sat there shell-shocked, not knowing what to do or say or anything at all. Yet, it seemed like everyone around me knew exactly what to do because they stood up and started clapping. Mum was the first one to come up to me and give me a fierce hug, which I reciprocated unconsciously. Dad was the next, followed by M. Night Shyamalan and Toni Collette. Before I knew it, I was subtly pushed towards the stage by Toni, who had the sense to not hog me all for herself.
"This is Troy Armitage's first Oscar win and nomination. At the age of 11 years, he is the youngest male ever to win an Oscar." A female voice called out enthusiastically as I approached the stage.
Everything was happening so fast that I had no time to process anything. My body moved on its own, showing a happy, confident facade, but deep down I knew how much of a mess I was. I climbed up the stage in a daze as Judi Dench gave me a peck on the cheek and a huge trophy that wasn't as light as it appeared in the pictures.
"Woah, that's heavy," I let out unconsciously, but the close proximity of the mic picked up my words, getting cheers and laughter from the people in the auditorium.
"Thank you so much to the Academy members for voting for me," I began reciting my actual speech. Thankful that I had prepared something or I'd be totally blank at the moment. "I'm still not sure I deserved it any more than Tom Cruise, Michael Caine, Michael Clark Duncan, or Jude Law. I haven't seen any of your films because apparently, I was too young for them, but I'm sure they must have been great." Tom Cruise threw back his head and laughed out loud at my quip while clapping with other audience members. Of the four other films in this category, three were rated R, so I didn't see those in this life, and the last one, [The Cider House Rules], was PG-13 but was about abortions and rape, so Mum didn't let me see it. Not that I had any intention of watching it anytime soon. It was a snoozefest.
"A big thanks to M. Night Shyamalan for selecting me over hundreds of others who could be standing here today," I continued with my speech. "Bruce Willis, I love you, man, for teaching me how to act in a film like this. Toni Collette for being the best on-screen mother anyone could ask for, and all members of the crew from our producers, Barry, Frank, and Kathleen, all the way to our set assistants. This is a shared award for all of us, and I wouldn't be here today if I didn't have all of your support. Also, a big thanks to my teacher and mentor Paul Tanner for teaching me how to sing. My parents, Steve and Kathy," I looked directly towards them, "thank you for adopting me when you did and doing everything in your power to fulfill my dreams. I couldn't have asked for better parents."
A huge round of applause rang out in the theater as my speech ended, and I was led by Judi Dench towards the backstage. I was pretty much in a daze as I stood in front of a bunch of reporters. Thankfully, the system was well managed, and numbers were called out for the reporters to ask questions without making it a mess.
"Congratulations on the win tonight, Troy," a woman called out.
"Thank you, Miss," I nodded back with a smile.
"How does it feel to become the youngest person ever to win an Emmy, Golden Globe, and now an Oscar as well?"
"Hoping that I don't follow it up with a Razzie," I joked, making the reporters laugh all around. "On a serious note, I couldn't be any luckier to achieve this. I don't think I even realize at the moment the implications of this win; hopefully, my career won't go downhill from here like many people do post an Oscar win."
"It was a great speech you gave there after your win," another woman said. "Who helped you write it?"
"I wrote it myself," I said honestly. "Mum gave me some pointers beforehand and told me to make a list of people I'd like to thank, that too without exceeding the time limit too much."
"Troy, can you tell us about your next film?" a British man asked this time. "An executive from Universal said last week that your next performance is even better than [The Sixth Sense]."
"I don't know about that, I haven't seen the film yet," I replied humbly. "It is called [Dancer] and directed by Stephen Daldry. It's a small-budget film about the life of a young boy Billy, my character, who wants to become a ballet dancer, but his family opposes it. I can't tell you much right now; you'll have to wait till the premiere at Cannes this summer. But I'll tell you this, the story is very good, on a similar level to [The Sixth Sense]."
"Can you tell us about the shooting progress of [Harry Potter]?" another male, this time American, asked.
"We are more than halfway done with the film and are expected to finish the shooting by summer, hoping to release the film later this year. I'll be flying back to London tomorrow, and we'll continue shooting my scenes then."
I answered a few more questions before finally, it was time for me to return to the auditorium and reclaim my seat. Thankfully, it was the last commercial break at that time, which I used to grab my seat. It is a weird rule of the Academy that you can't take your seat back unless it's a break.
It was only when I was back in my seat that the implications hit me. I just won an Oscar! Not only that, I became the youngest male to ever win one and only the second youngest winner ever after Tatum O'Neal who won for [Paper Moon] in the 70's. I was elated, but more than that, I didn't know what to do now. Most actors want to win an Oscar, at least once in their lives. It's a goal that keeps them motivated to deliver better and better performance each time. Yet, here I had achieved that goal so early in my life, that it didn't feel real. What was my motivation to continue acting after Harry Potter? I would be filthy rich, and I have achieved something in my first year of acting that people with years are not able to.
What would keep me going after today? Maybe that's why so many actors see a slump in their careers after winning an Oscar. They lose their purpose to do better.
"Are you okay, Troy," Mum nudged me slightly. "You look a little pale."
"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. "Just… this is a lot to take in." I pointed at my Oscar trophy.
"Don't worry, you'll be fine," She smiled at me. "Only a few awards are left. Maybe [The Sixth Sense] will win the big prize."
At that moment, only four awards were yet to be awarded, namely Best Picture, Director, Actor, and Actress.
My presence didn't change these four awards, and they went to the same people they went to in my past life, with [American Beauty] bagging Best Picture and Sam Mendes winning the award for Best Director. Kevin Spacey won his second Oscar for [American Beauty], and Hilary Swank won her first for [Boys Don't Cry].
Finally, the award ceremony was over, and it was time for the afterparties and photo sessions. I posed with Angelina Jolie, Kevin Spacey, and Hilary Swank as the acting winners of the year.
"How strange," Angelina Jolie remarked. "Last year we both won a Golden Globe in the same category. This year we won an Oscar in the same category."
"Believe me, love, our lives are interconnected," I nodded sagely. "I think it is in your best interest if you abstain from getting into any other relationship and wait a few years for me to grow up."
Angie was single currently, as she had announced a divorce from her soon-to-be ex-husband Johnny Lee Miller. She scoffed audibly, "Nice try. Is that your go-to line with every actress? Cameron Diaz had a lot to say about your ways when we met last time."
Undeterred by her claim, I said confidently, "It's always better to seek out your life partner early on. Not my fault that you and Cameron Diaz are so beautiful that men must be beating each other to get on with either of you."
"I don't know whether I should be flattered or saddened that the person flirting with me is an 11-year-old."
"Flattered, obviously," I replied seriously. "Just imagine if the person flirting with you was 111."
"Yeah, I'm mightily flattered," she laughed before changing the topic. "So you coming to the afterparty?"
"Nah," I shook my head, "I have a flight to London tomorrow to continue shooting my next film. And frankly, these parties aren't the most exciting places to be for someone my age."
"True," Angie nodded before giving me her farewell. "Goodbye, then. All the best for your film."
I gave her my greetings and watched her walk up to her brother, Haven, and give him a tight hug. Then she shocked me and probably half the world by kissing her brother right on the lips. The paparazzi were having a field day and started clicking dozens of pictures of that moment, and only then did I remember how big of a thing this would become for the siblings, with the media spreading all sorts of rumors about them being in an incestuous relationship. I shook my head. I couldn't have warned her not to do it even if I had remembered that moment on time.
It wasn't my concern so I simply walked back to my parents so we could go home. It had already been a long night, and my young body desperately needed sleep. It was such a shame that I was so young. I could have had so much fun with my Oscar if I was at least 18. Or better yet 21 since we are in the States.
sigh
Time to go back to Britain and finish [Harry Potter].
(Break)
The novelty of winning an Oscar wore off in a few days. It still felt great when I thought back to the moment, but most people went back to acting how they were before soon enough. My father organized a party for all the cast and crew members in honor of my win, and the paparazzi were much more persistent in tailing me this time, but even that became a routine and thanks to my bodyguard Roger, it was rather easy to deal with them.
A few weeks later came another award night. Thankfully, this one was in London, so I didn't have to endure a half-day-long cross-Atlantic flight or jet lag. At the BAFTAs, I made history again by becoming the youngest-ever BAFTA winner, defeating Kevin Spacey for the Lead Actor prize. I won't go into details, as most of these award ceremonies were the same, with winners thanking the same people repeatedly. But defeating Kevin Spacey, whose performance was one of my personal favorites of the decade, was exhilarating and more than a little ego-boosting for me.
Yet, I felt more worried about my future career. I didn't voice these thoughts out to anyone, because even I knew these were irrational thoughts. But I had to do something to feel better. That too, fast, if I still want to remain relevant after the conclusion of [Harry Potter]. Sure, it is years away, but time would fly by in moments if I'm not careful enough.
And I would need to do some more hit films in between [Harry Potter] so that people won't associate me entirely with being Harry Potter. It's rare for actors with long-term roles to successfully achieve that. Take Mark Hamill, for example. I don't remember a single film of his other than Star Wars where he was the solo lead. It was difficult for him to move on from playing Luke Skywalker. He is a talented actor, no doubt, but it is difficult for people to stop thinking of you as the character rather than the actor.
And not everyone can just go and do only highly acclaimed films each year. Not every script screams at you that this is a masterpiece in the making. In some cases, the scripts are very good, and the direction and acting are also good, but post-production kills the film. Decisions like bad editing or bad VFX can be very basic examples of that.
Anyway, I'll cross that bridge when it comes. Currently, my focus is finishing this last scene of [Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone].
"How did I get the stone, sir?" I asked Michael Gambon in confusion. "One minute I was staring in the mirror, the next…"
"Ah," Michael Gambon, in his Dumbledore attire, cut me off, "You see, only a person who wanted to find the stone. Find it, but not use it, would be able to get it."
Then he bent forward a little and whispered conspiratorially, "That is one of my more brilliant ideas. And between you and me, that is saying something."
I grinned at his antics as a sudden realization dawned upon me, "Does that mean with the stone gone, Voldemort can never come back?"
Gambon gained a faraway look in his eyes as he said, "Oh, I'm afraid there are ways in which he can return. Do you know why Professor Quirrell couldn't bear to have you touch him? It was because of your mother. She sacrificed herself for you and that kind of act leaves a mark."
I raised a hand to touch the fake scar that I had been wearing for months on end.
"Oh no," Gambon interjected, "This kind of mark cannot be seen. It lives in your very skin."
I gave him a genuinely confused expression, "What is it?"
"Love, Harry." I saw Michael Gambon's face going through infinitesimal reactions that were hard to describe. At that moment, I felt as if he was a real century-old wizard as he brought a hand forward and patted my head before getting up.
"Ah, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans." He picked up a box of props that had been prepared by the set designers meticulously. "I was most unfortunate in my youth to come across a vomit-flavored one. And since then, I'm afraid that I lost my liking for them." His hand wavered indecisively over the box before finally picking one up. "I think I could be safe with a nice toffee."
I grinned at his antics as he took a toffee out and popped it in his mouth, "Hmm. Alas! Earwax." Saying that he walked out of the frame as I followed his movement with my eyes.
"Cut!"
A final call was announced by Chris Columbus as the filming was finally done.
"We did it, guys! We are done with the shooting of [Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone]!" Chris called out loudly.
Loud whoops and cheers rang across the set as the massive crew enjoyed the last scene being finished for the franchise's first film. The best thing is that none of them, except me, have any idea how big of a thing this is gonna get. The second movie is guaranteed to come out as it has already been greenlit and pre-production on it has begun, but beyond that, the production is mightily uncertain for everyone else involved.
"Everyone!" Dad called out. As today was the last day, he had come on the set in person. "It was great working with you all. Hopefully, we'll continue doing this for years to come and complete all seven books. Let's have a big wrap party tomorrow with all the cast and crew members!"
Another round of cheers chorused on set as people enjoyed the moment.
"We're done here, son," Dad whispered as he stood beside me, letting the cast and crew members enjoy themselves.
"I'm not," I replied. "Have to go to Cannes later this week."
"Is it that time already?" Dad asked curiously. "I was hoping we could go off for a vacation now that we're free for some time. Just us and your Mum. What do you think of right after Cannes?"
"I don't mind," I shrugged. "Where to?"
"I was thinking of a Euro trip that we can begin from Cannes itself. Probably your last quiet holiday before all the Harry Potter fame gets to you."
"I'm pretty sure getting an Oscar for [The Sixth Sense] that earned around $753m worldwide won't leave me any more inconspicuous than playing Harry Potter." I countered to which Dad had no reply.
"True," He conceded after some time. "Still, I have contacted a few VIP holiday planners to find the best places that guarantee us some anonymity. If Mainland Europe isn't possible, we'd probably go to either some island in Asia or maybe off-coast Oceania."
"Let's first go to Cannes as a family," I said. "I've heard it's a beautiful place to be this time of the year."
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