"He's not exactly reformed," Louise replied. "More like… someone hired him." Even she couldn't fully wrap her head around it. From what she knew of Cooper, he didn't strike her as the type who'd willingly work for someone else.
"Louise," Laila said, narrowing her eyes. "Are you still not going to tell me why Cooper and Reynolds fell out? How many times have I asked you now?"
Back then, even the senior members of the company had no clue what had caused the rift. And the only person who did know had stubbornly kept her lips sealed. Laila hadn't cared much at first, but after finding out that even Xiao Ye couldn't uncover the truth, she was increasingly intrigued.
Louise's expression stiffened. She forced a smile and tried to brush it off. "That's ancient history. Nothing worth talking about—I don't even remember the details."
Laila stared at her speechlessly. Why do they all think their second-rate acting can fool me? I'm a director, for heaven's sake.
"Fine, since you don't want to talk, I'll drop it—for now," she said pointedly. Just for now. Sooner or later, she would get the full story.
Her curiosity had once been casual, but the more Cooper tried to stir things up against Phoenix Films, the more she wanted to know. What kind of grudge could drive someone to spend years attacking a company? Even after Reynolds' death, the hate was still alive and kicking, now aimed squarely at her.
Louise cleared her throat, pretending not to hear the underlying threat in Laila's tone. "From what I know, Cooper has been helping that company scout films with award potential. And they've done quite well—nearly every film they've backed has raked in accolades. You probably know the company already."
Laila narrowed her eyes. "Anyone who would willingly hire Cooper and keep him close isn't likely to be a Hollywood-based studio. If they had any interest, they would've snatched him up years ago. That leaves the new players—out-of-town, well-funded companies…" She paused, then chuckled. "And I almost forgot—the company probably has some history with me."
Who in the U.S. didn't know about the long-standing feud between Cooper and Laila Moran? For someone to ignore that—and still hire him—it had to be someone with a score to settle.
"That girl Faiza... the company he and Faaris started. What was it called again?" she asked, trying to recall.
Honestly, no one could blame her for forgetting. The opponents had always been weak—none had ever posed any real threat. They'd mostly just embarrassed themselves and lost money in the process. Faiza ended up in a mental institution, and Faaris was left to hold the fort. By then, Laila had mostly stopped paying attention to them.
"Goldsand," Louise reminded her. "They've been doing quite well these past two years. A lot of Hollywood creatives short on funding have gone to them. Rumor has it that as long as there's award potential, they'll invest."
Laila frowned. "It's not unusual for big studios to want prestige projects to pad their portfolios, but what does an investment firm need awards for?"
"No clue," Louise admitted. "But they've backed a bunch of critically acclaimed films. Maybe they think it's a safer bet? Even if the box office isn't great, award-winning films tend to sell pretty well on DVDs and Blu-rays."
Laila smiled. "True. People may not flock to the theater for something slow or dark, but they're more than happy to add an award-winning film to their home collection. Seems like they've carved out their little niche in Hollywood."
Still, the logic felt a bit flimsy. Sure, awards could reduce the risk of total loss, but relying on DVD sales to recoup costs meant waiting a long time to break even. Was that the kind of business model someone like Faaris would choose—he of the enormous ego and zero patience?
It was one of those things that couldn't be figured out just by guessing, so Laila decided to change the subject. "Anyway, why did you come over just now?"
Louise smacked her forehead. "Right! I nearly forgot if you hadn't reminded me."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a few more scripts. "These just came in. People asked me to pass them along. They were so persistent, I couldn't turn them down."
Laila glanced at the pile and sighed. "More scripts? I already have too many."
Louise chuckled. "What can I say? Your films are in such high demand—it's only natural that people want to work with you. These folks are my friends. I owed them the courtesy."
Relationships were built on give-and-take. That's how networks were formed and sustained.
Louise's vast network across Hollywood was what made her so well-informed. Now, when her friends' friends went out of their way to get a script into her hands, she had to follow through—otherwise, how could she expect favors in return?
Laila casually flipped through the new stack and immediately noticed something strange. "Why are they all commercial blockbusters?"
That was odd. Most of the scripts she'd received lately were prestige projects with depth. Sure, there had been a few commercial ones, but even those had leaned into themes like human nature, similar to The Dark Knight.
But these new ones? Big-budget action-fests, loaded with CGI and star power. Some had been box office hits, raking in hundreds of millions; others had flopped spectacularly, dragging entire studios down with them.
Still, the common trait was clear: huge budgets, A-list casts, flashy effects. The very definition of summer popcorn movies.
Why would anyone think she'd be interested in these?
It wasn't like they'd risk a personal favor just to send something she wouldn't even glance at. They must've thought she'd seriously consider them.
As it turned out, Louise knew exactly why.
"You probably saw that post questioning your box office success and 'greatness,' right? I'm guessing they think you'll want to fire back with a giant commercial blockbuster to challenge James Cameron's top spot."
Laila raised an eyebrow and laughed. "Wow. They know me better than I do."
Did she seem like someone who'd get goaded into chasing the all-time box office record just because of one online post? She liked to think she was more rational than that. She certainly didn't strike herself as someone who'd let public chatter dictate her next move.
Louise looked at her seriously. "But… don't you want to go for it?"
Honestly, even Laila's fans were pissed after reading those comments—and Louise herself had been more than a little annoyed.