Whistle!
The golf ball soared into the air under a precise swing.
Eric watched its flight until it disappeared from sight.
Steven Spielberg chuckled as he looked at him:
"Eric, it seems your golfing skills are far from perfect."
Eric shrugged. Of course, he didn't know how to play golf. In his past life, as just an assistant director, he hadn't had such opportunities. The most he was offered were dinners, karaoke, or trips to the bar or sauna. Golf had been too luxurious an activity for him.
Under the amazed gazes of all present, Eric took 183 swings to finally get the ball into the hole.
"I have to admit, getting it into this hole is much harder than in bed," he joked, eliciting a burst of laughter.
His father handed him a bottle of water:
"Son, maybe you should spend more time on the golf course and less in bed. Your mom would be relieved."
Everyone laughed again.
"Eric, is it true you're dating Nicole Kidman?" Jeffrey Katzenberg asked with curiosity.
"What? You believe that too, Jeffrey? It's all slander and dirty rumors. Tabloids love stories like that—they sell the best."
"So, what about the movie La Vie en Rose? Is it a drama or a commercial film?" Spielberg asked.
"It's a drama. A real arthouse piece."
"So, MGM and Nicole Kidman are hoping to contend for awards?" Spielberg clarified.
"You could say that."
"When are you planning to release it? This year or next?" Spielberg continued.
Eric shook his head slightly:
"I'm not sure yet. The script is still being worked on. If the filming goes smoothly, maybe we'll make it for a Christmas release."
Spielberg smiled:
"I'd recommend a Christmas release."
"Why?" both father and son Cooper asked in unison, looking at the little man with glasses.
"Because Steven is working on The Terminal, which will come out next June. If La Vie en Rose releases next year too, we'll be rivals at the Oscars," David Geffen explained.
Eric understood:
"Tom Hanks stars, right? Then I'll try to avoid competing with your star-studded team. He's the first to win back-to-back Oscars for Philadelphia and Forrest Gump. I doubt anyone could match that success."
"But you could go for a second Oscar for Nicole Kidman, making her a two-time winner."
"Steven, you just want me to release the film this year, don't you? Alright, I'll try. By the way, I remember your birthday's in December."
Spielberg nodded:
"December 18th. Why?"
"Then it's settled. La Vie en Rose will release on December 18th. Consider it my birthday gift to you."
"No problem. If the film really releases on December 18th, I'll promote it for free and host a private screening."
"I'm in too."
"Count me in as well."
"Wait, something's off. It feels like you've tricked us. Even if it wasn't La Vie en Rose, MGM would release something else next year anyway."
"Ha-ha-ha."
In the lounge, several people were sitting or lying down, enjoying massages.
Of course, this wasn't part of the standard golf course service. Eric had specifically invited masters from Chinatown. The old man with gray hair who was massaging his father was nearly 60 years old. The others were his students, the youngest being a Chinese girl of about twenty, a bit plump but rather charming.
"Oh!"
"Oh God!"
"Oh!"
The room filled with groans from the older men. Spielberg's left arm was draped over his neck, and the great director groaned loudly, his face contorted in pain.
"Relax, don't resist. Your muscles are too tense. You'll feel better when we're done."
Click
"Aah!"
The master gave a sharp pull, and Spielberg's neck made a cracking sound.
Geffen and Katzenberg looked the same. The great Hollywood moguls and music industry kings couldn't withstand the intense massage.
Especially since this was their first experience, the sensations were both painful and pleasurable, making them almost cry out in delight.
Eric's father lay on a chaise lounge, breathing heavily, his face red and full of suffering.
David Geffen gently rubbed his chest:
"Why? Why do we suffer and still pay for it?"
"I have the same question!" Jeffrey Katzenberg said with a pained expression.
Eric frowned:
"David, doesn't this remind you of the workers who do the hardest jobs yet still give up most of the wealth they create to people like us? When you think about it that way, it feels easier to bear."
Suddenly, all four older men turned their gazes toward him, realizing the truth in his words.
After a moment's reflection, David Geffen said:
"Eric, many people wouldn't dare say it out loud, but I know behind my back, they call me a vampire. But listening to you, I've realized that 'vampire' might actually be a compliment."
"Thank you for the compliment! Master, please continue massaging the kidney area!"
An hour later, the massage finally ended, and the five men sprawled out on lounge chairs.
"So, how was it? Did you enjoy the special service I arranged?" Eric asked.
Spielberg turned his neck:
"It's a strange sensation. At first, it felt like my neck would break, but now it suddenly feels lighter."
"Yeah, it's like all the fatigue has washed away and the toxins are flushed out," another chimed in.
"I feel better too, especially in my legs. The old ache is gone, and now I feel light all over," someone else added.
"It's like wearing weights on your legs in your youth, then suddenly taking them off," Eric's father smiled.
"Eric, you should've recommended this sooner. Now I want to get this massage every week. Compared to this old master, those girls who used to massage me were nothing."
"Charlie, did those girls only give massages? Didn't they offer any extra services?" someone laughed.
"Ha-ha-ha."
"Jeffrey, how's the work on Frozen coming along?" Eric asked.
"The models for Elsa and Anna are nearly complete, including their outfits, shoes, and various looks. Other characters are still in progress since their descriptions in the script you provided weren't as detailed as Elsa and Anna's. We're also working on the scenes of Arendelle. It's a complex process, even more intricate than Shrek. By my estimates, we'll need at least four more months to finish, and that's being optimistic."
"In fact, we're moving along so quickly thanks to your meticulously designed character sketches. Otherwise, this process could've taken eight months or even longer."
"Steven, do you remember how many drafts Shrek went through?" Spielberg asked.
Spielberg thought for a moment and slowly replied:
"I don't remember exactly, but I think there were so many that they filled half a room. Animated films require far more time and effort than live-action ones."
As a professional, Eric understood how labor-intensive creating a high-quality animated film could be. He had planned ahead, estimating that Frozen would take about two years. Ideally, they'd be ready for the summer season next year; if not, Christmas would be the target. In the worst case, the film could release in the summer of 2005. Any other release dates might lessen Frozen's box office potential.
With an understanding of Frozen's progress, Eric decided to bring up his actual request.
"David, besides films, DreamWorks is also involved in music, right?"
David Geffen nodded:
"Yes, I'm in charge of the music division—it's my specialty."
"I want to release a single. Is that possible?"
Geffen looked surprised:
"Eric, do you sing?"
"No, it's for a friend."
"Of course, I'm always ready to support talented newcomers. If the song's good, I can help make him a star."
"It's not a newcomer; it's Michael Jackson. He's going through a tough time right now, and Sony doesn't want to release his singles. I'd like to help him."
Hearing Michael Jackson's name, David Geffen immediately fell silent, his expression turning cold.
"Michael Jackson… That could be problematic."
"Why? Have you had issues with him?"
But David Geffen, like Michael Jackson, declined to answer.
"Eric, if it were anyone else, your word would be enough. But with Jackson, I have my own history. I'm sorry, but I can't help."
Eric looked at Spielberg and Katzenberg. Both seemed puzzled and simultaneously curious, as though expecting something more, unaware of the full backstory.
What exactly had happened was likely known only to Michael and David.
The situation grew a bit tense, so Spielberg smiled and said, "Let's leave this for later. Today, let's just relax. We can discuss work matters later."
But who would take such words seriously? If they didn't discuss it now, it was unlikely they ever would.
Eric stood up from his lounge chair: "David, let's step outside for a chat. How about it?"
David Geffen frowned, clearly reluctant, but he followed Eric out.
In the lounge, Katzenberg asked Charlie, "Charlie, what's going on with Eric? Is he close to Michael Jackson?"
His father shook his head: "I don't know. At MGM, responsibilities are well-defined. Eric is in charge of film production and doesn't need to report everything he does to me."
"Let Eric handle it with David as he wishes. I'm sure they'll come to some satisfactory conclusion."
Charlie Cooper didn't want to delve into it, and Katzenberg and Spielberg stopped asking questions as well. They and David Geffen were simply business partners, and it wasn't their place to interfere.
Ten minutes later, Eric and David returned to the lounge. Their expressions were calm, as if nothing had happened, though it was clear they'd discussed much.
The others tried not to show their curiosity, pretending as though nothing had happened.
In the evening, Cooper and his son bid farewell to the DreamWorks "big three," and everyone went their separate ways.
Eric and David Geffen continued chatting cheerfully, showing no sign of tension.
In the car, Eric dialed Michael's number.
"Michael, I made a deal with DreamWorks. As soon as you're ready, you can release your single."
"Really?" Michael's voice was filled with surprise.
"But David Geffen…"
"Don't worry, I persuaded him. But this is a one-time chance. DreamWorks will only release one single, Rolling in the Deep, and nothing more. But I believe in your talent."
"Oh my God! What happened? How did you convince David Geffen? He's so arrogant!"
"Ha-ha... Everyone has a weakness, and MGM just happens to hold DreamWorks by that weakness. I don't know what happened between you, but even if David Geffen didn't want to, I made him concede."
"Eric, thank you so much. I don't know what to say."
"Just record the song. Once Rolling in the Deep becomes a hit, many people will be fighting to release your music. Even Sony won't be able to ignore it. Show them what you've got, Michael!"
After hanging up, Eric's father looked at him: "Do you really believe in Michael Jackson? He's a big risk right now, and most people want to keep their distance."
"Everyone? I think not everyone. Besides me, there are still people willing to support him."
"Dad, I know you're skeptical. Let me tell you a story I heard in China. It's an old tale, dating back two thousand years."
His father frowned: "Last time, you told me about the Forbidden City, which is only a few hundred years old, and now a story from two thousand years ago. That country really is full of ancient marvels."
"Yes, it's ancient and full of wisdom. The story I want to tell you is also about a wise merchant. It's called 'Using Opportunities to Acquire Rare Goods.'"
A few minutes later, after Eric finished telling the story, his father pondered.
"Investing at the hardest times and reaping rewards tenfold or a hundredfold—this is what you're getting at, right? Do I understand?"
Eric nodded: "Exactly. For us, helping Michael Jackson requires little effort, but in return, we'll gain much more. Why not take the chance?"
"All over the world, Michael's still one of the top stars. He just needs one song to regain his fame."
His father sighed: "Alright, Eric. You always have a plan. What do I need to do?"
"Do you know a reliable private investigator?"
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