(Kyle Love POV)
Across the table sat a thin human with an absurd mustache that might have been funny if not for the cold calculation in his eyes. His suit probably cost more than my car, and those golden-framed glasses weren't just for show. This was a man used to getting his way.
Ed Louis took a long drag from his cigarette, deliberately blowing the smoke in my face. "So, you're rejecting our offer?" His voice was casual, but I could hear the threat underneath.
I waved away the acrid cloud, fighting the urge to cough. "That's right," I said, keeping my voice steady.
Ed stood up abruptly, jabbing his cigarette in my direction. "Do you understand that your decision today will make you regret it in the future?"
I stood my ground, even as my heart raced. "I believe in the film. I know it'll be profitable. Selling those rights to you would be foolish."
He crushed the cigarette in his hand, his lips curling into a sneer. "Profitable? Heh, yeah, good luck with that." His voice dropped to a menacing growl. "No one who goes against Titan Pictures makes money. They all go bankrupt."
I remained silent, acutely aware of the truth in his words. Titan Pictures was big enough to make good on that threat. It was the source of their arrogance, their certainty that they could bully anyone into submission.
"Are you sure about your decision?" Ed asked again, giving me one last chance to back down.
I don't know where I found the courage, but I looked him straight in the eye. "I don't want to repeat myself, Ed Louis." Using his full name felt like a small act of defiance.
Ed's eyes narrowed. "Alright, have it your way. I hope this decision doesn't come back to haunt you. Because I'm going to make damn sure that Love Pictures Entertainment falls. Remember that."
With a final huff of anger, he stormed out, leaving me alone with the lingering smell of smoke and my own doubts.
I sank back into my chair, my bravado evaporating. I couldn't quite believe what I'd just done. Going up against a studio like Titan Pictures... it was madness. But I was gambling everything on Arthur Morningstar being right. That our film would profit even with a giant like Titan Pictures trying to crush it.
As the reality of what I'd just done sank in, I couldn't help but wonder: Had I just saved Love Pictures Entertainment, or signed its death warrant?
***
(Roger POV)
"Here's your drink!" I called out, sliding a frothy mug across the bar to a burly customer who caught it with practiced ease.
The Moonlight Film Festival always brought good business to the tavern. Film enthusiasts from across the kingdom - hell, from around the world - flocked to our little corner of the Moonlight Kingdom. Some came to watch, others to present, but they all seemed to end up here, drowning their excitement or sorrows in our ale.
Three days in, and I was raking in dozens of dollars a day. Not too shabby, if I do say so myself.
I might be too busy pouring drinks to actually attend the festival, but I didn't need to. The hot gossip came to me, carried on the slurred words of my patrons.
"I'm tellin' ya," a red-faced elf slurred, slamming his mug down for emphasis, "Lord of the Rings is somethin' else. Incredible, it was!"
His dwarf companion nodded vigorously. "Aye, hard to believe there'd be another film to top The Demonfather so soon."
A human at the end of the bar scoffed. "Lord of the Rings? Please. It can't hold a candle to Demonfather."
"You're off your rocker," another patron chimed in. "Lord of the Rings is clearly superior."
"In your dreams, maybe," the human shot back.
A half-elf raised his hands, trying to play peacekeeper. "Why argue? They're both made by the same demon, aren't they?"
A collective groan rose from the group.
"Say," the dwarf piped up, changing the subject, "any of you lot catch that picture in the paper? The one with the infamous prince and that famous critic?"
My ears perked up at that. It had been days of this - "Lord of the Rings" on everyone's lips, snippets of plot leaked through drunken retellings.
It wasn't just my customers, either. The newspapers and magazines I'd picked up to keep tabs on the festival were plastered with headlines about "Lord of the Rings". You'd think no other films were even showing.
"I don't get it," a gruff voice cut through the chatter. "Been hearing about this 'Lord of the Rings' non-stop. What's the big deal?"
I glanced over to see a burly human addressing the group of film enthusiasts.
An elf with silver hair leaned in. "It's the talk of the festival. You should give it a watch."
The human snorted. "Festival? Don't have time for that nonsense."
"Then you'll never know what you're missing," the elf shot back, a hint of smugness in his voice.
The human's brow furrowed. "Missing? According to this," he waved a crumpled newspaper, "it's so bad critics couldn't even sit through it."
Curious, I craned my neck to catch a glimpse of the headline: "Infamous Prince's 'Lord of the Rings' - A Disaster of Epic Proportions".
The elf snatched the paper, scanned it, then tossed it aside with a scoff. "Rubbish. They're clearly not telling the truth."
"But it's not just this one," the human said, looking thoughtful. "I've seen a few papers trashing it. Makes you wonder."
The elf's eyes lit up. "Then see for yourself! Join us. We'll even spot you a ticket."
The human's eyebrows shot up. "Yeah? Alright, I'm game."
And just like that, they were out the door, the human swept up in the enthusiasts' wake.
I shook my head, chuckling to myself. This wasn't the first time I'd seen this play out. Seemed like every other day, some skeptic would wander in, head full of bad reviews, only to get dragged off by die-hard fans determined to convert them.
"This year's festival is something else," I muttered, wiping down the bar. "More interesting, sure, but a hell of a lot weirder too."
***
(Arthur POV)
Two weeks of the Moonlight Film Festival had flown by in a blur. I'd been ping-ponging between Moon City and home, juggling the festival circus with our computer project. Exhausting doesn't even begin to cover it.
But today was the big one - the festival's grand finale. Awards day. My stomach was in knots as I sat in the packed auditorium, waiting for the ceremony to start.
"Lord of the Rings" had snagged nominations for just about everything, including the festival's most prestigious awards: the Lunar Laurel for Best Director and the Celestial Crown for Best Film. We were also up for a slew of minor awards like the Audience Choice Award and the Best Screenplay.
Herold Green, the festival director, took the stage, his silver robes shimmering under the spotlights. He started with the minor categories, and I found myself holding my breath each time he opened an envelope.
"Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed guests, we begin with our minor awards..."
I tried to pay attention as he rattled off the winners, but my mind kept drifting to the big ones. Still, I couldn't help but grin as "Lord of the Rings" swept up award after award in the smaller categories. The Audience's Choice Award, the Best Screenplay, Best Visuals, the Best Soundtrack trophy - they all came our way.
Finally, Herold reached into his pocket and pulled out the envelope I'd been waiting for all night.
"And now, the moment you've all been waiting for. The Lunar Laurel for Best Director goes to..."