The party organized by William White was typically Texan, which wasn't news to anyone in the circles, given his strong Texan imprint. Some might scoff, but then don't bother attending.
Try to act all high-class? Oh, come on. The guy's a bestselling author. When he shows off, he's got that British aristocrat vibe but to avoid making you feel too awkward, he pretends to be a cowboy instead.
While White Films was celebrating grandly, other Hollywood companies were a bit envious.
If everyone flopped, the economy would be the scapegoat.
The issue now is, your flops have nothing to do with the economy. If there are good movies, audiences won't just stay home watching TV. They're just avoiding bad films.
Splashing out a million bucks in cash -- that became many media headlines the next day. To celebrate the box office success, William White went on a spending spree, nearly sending the party into chaos.
Alright, that was all media speculation. Although the money was stacked, each had a label, and the bonus handed out were about five grand each.
The media was somewhat envious as well. They weren't having a great time either, so a bit of envy and jealousy was expected.
What was most frustrating for them was that they couldn't even get into the party. Without an invitation or a friend to bring you in, those cowboys would absolutely not budge.
Even if they couldn't get in, it wasn't a problem. They could always speculate, right? What kind of extravagance would a party of that level have? From bits and pieces they picked up, they were able to piece together a story that's almost spot-on.
Although the public was abuzz, the criticism wasn't too harsh. No matter how successful they were, at the end of the day, they were just a bunch of big kids. Wasn't such behavior quite normal?
If adults can't control their emotions, expecting a group of kids to do so is just too much to ask.
...
William White didn't mind the outside commentary. As long as you follow up with good deeds, being flamboyant isn't considered derogatory.
"Mister, are you alright?" Fulton asked with a smile.
"Ha, I'm fine. Just felt a bit dizzy, but after a nap, I'm good," William White really felt fine, in fact, quite energetic at the moment.
"Fulton, let's head back to Texas in a couple of days. I wonder if those two guys' game consoles are ready?"
"Sure, Mister, I'll arrange it right away."
Barring any surprises, he'll have his private jet next year. Just feel bad for the two huskies; hopefully, they'll enjoy farm life.
...
A booming box office for two days straight sent Hollywood into a frenzy.
Some gritted their teeth, while others rubbed their hands with excitement.
Writers proficient in comedy scripts were very pleased. Now everyone was very polite toward them. William White's scripts were top-notch, but since you couldn't get them, you'd have to dig internally in your own company.
There's never a shortage of comedy scripts in Hollywood. This genre of movies isn't scarce, just hadn't performed well at the box office, so they weren't given much focus.
In fact, several comedy films had already started filming, but whether they would perform spectacularly was uncertain, and only the market could decide.
...
Seeing the newspapers over the past two days, William White couldn't help but chuckle, being sarcastically called a rich country bumpkin. The envy and jealousy were as clear as day.
But that's just it; they wouldn't dare go too far. Three bankrupt newspapers were still lying around. Envy and jealousy are fine, but if taken too far, a lawyer would promptly issue a warning.
William White's legal team wasn't just talk; almost every newspaper had received a letter from his lawyers. If you speak without proof, the ensuing lawsuits would definitely bring you to your knees.
William White certainly wasn't forgetting about setting up in the print media space. Yet, right now, he was still too young.
Films, novels, and comics fell under entertainment, and newspapers held different meanings. At least in some sense, they were a means of supervision, and some even considered them the Fourth Estate.
It's something that can be seen from various perspectives. With so many restrictions on comics, newspapers surely aren't exempt. Isn't the media known for claiming Saddam Hussein's got weapons of mass destruction?
If tanks count, maybe they do. As for other things, let's not kid ourselves; they simply don't have that production capacity.
All of Iraq's arms are imported. They can't even make tanks and artillery. Would news media lack the ability to discern? The story became so convoluted that even the storytellers started believing it. And the result?
William White aimed at culture, entertainment, and media. Nothing on this chain could be missing, and fortunately, the timing was great, as the American economy would be lingering in the doldrums for quite some time.
The families controlling the media mostly belonged to monopoly oligarchs or some wealthy clans. The media was their money-making tool. As long as the price was right, they wouldn't refuse; it was simply business to them.
...
Having breakfast finished, William White began working out. His body had become increasingly strong, almost like he was having a second growth spurt. To prevent putting on weight sideways, regular workouts were a must.
The sound of pounding continued incessantly. An oversized punching bag swayed more and more. William White was vigorously channeling his excess hormones; he really was quite pitiful, unable to party with other buddies.
Jason and his group of misfits weren't afraid of reporters. As long as they weren't caught on the scene, they had no pressure.
In fact, when William White left, the reporters dispersed too. Just a bunch of college kids fooling around -- reporters had to be pretty bored to cover that.
"Hmph, there's still not enough money. One day, I'll buy an island, and let's see what all you pesky reporters will do then?" William White was quite displeased, and so he continued to go hard against the punching bag. Even his bodyguards were in awe; this guy was like a human T-Rex, definitely not easy to deal with.
"Boss, you should hire a coach. The way you're going, it's easy to hurt yourself," his bodyguard Max advised.
"Right, next year, next year I'll find a boxing coach." He wasn't relying on this stuff for a living. Having some self-defense skills was enough.
*****
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