Behind The Spotlight Chapter 59
Once the two were seated and settled across the small tea table, Noah regarded the agent with a quiet, assessing gaze. Though he didn't show it on his face, he was impressed.
He had expected Collin to be nervous. After all, this was the young agent's first time negotiating face-to-face with a studio chairman under such high stakes.
But Collin had changed significantly in the past year, not just in demeanor, but in how he handled pressure. The biggest reason was his golden vision, an uncanny ability to spot talent with remarkable precision. Because of that gift, he had developed confidence in both himself and the career path he had chosen. He no longer felt dread or anxiety in moments like this. In fact, he felt excited.
Even if he screwed up the negotiation, he had other studios interested in Wyatt. He believed in his client more than anything else, and that belief gave him the upper hand.
Now that Collin had paid off his crippling debt, he was finally free, financially and emotionally, for the first time in years. He could retire right now if he wanted to. His bank account already held millions, accumulated faster than he'd ever expected.
But retirement was a last resort. This was the career he chose, and he was determined to excel in it and make a name for himself.
While Collin didn't outwardly appear nervous, that didn't mean he wasn't fully aware of the gravity of this meeting. His heart was still pounding beneath his tailored suit.
"Let's not waste time, Collin," Noah began, his tone blunt and firm. "We both know we're not close, nor do we need to pretend otherwise. There's no reason to drag this out. I know why you're here, so state your offer. I'll counter. No need for the usual dance."
Noah was surprised by Collin's composure, it wasn't what he had expected from such a young agent. Still, he didn't think this negotiation would end favorably for Collin, regardless of his poise.
"My client wants $7 million and 10% of the box office share," Collin said calmly. "Wyatt has exceptional talent, especially in the comedy genre. He's already proven that. His talent deserves compensation to match."
Noah smirked condescendingly. As expected, these damn talent agents were always greedy, always reaching for the impossible.
He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he simply stared at Collin, waiting for him to continue.
"His next movie will be profitable," Collin added, his tone steady and assured.
"Is that all?" Noah asked dryly. "Anything else you'd like to add?"
"Not for now. But the fact that you invited me to the Chairman's office to negotiate personally tells me everything I need to know, you also believe this project is worth pursuing."
Collin was right, though Noah showed no sign of acknowledgment, maintaining the stoic mask of a seasoned executive.
"Collin, your client is still young and relatively new to the industry. What if he cracks under pressure? We can't risk the entire investment. I'm concerned he might not be able to finish the job to our standards."
"Then let's address that in the contract with a clause that protects your interests."
"I see. Then here's my counteroffer. I'll offer Wyatt $7 million in salary. That's a huge amount for a new director, rare in this industry. He'll receive $3.5 million upfront, and the remaining $3.5 million after production concludes, assuming everything goes well. However, if the final cut doesn't meet our standards, we'll create our own edited version, and the remaining $3.5 million will be forfeited."
"Nope. That won't happen under any circumstance." Collin shook his head firmly. He wasn't about to fall into that kind of trap.
"Wyatt will edit his version, and the studio can prepare its own cut for comparison. A third party can be brought in, if necessary, to determine which is better. But Wyatt's remaining $3.5 million stays untouched regardless of the outcome..."
Then, in that moment, Collin realized something important. The Chairman was trying to distract him from the real prize: the box office share.
Wyatt had made it clear he valued long-term profits over upfront salary. He believed in his project and was confident in its success. Collin understood now that Noah was trying to shift focus to the salary, downplaying the backend deal.
Yes, Noah was dangerous. Clever. Calculating.
"Chairman, let's not forget the box office share, that's our top priority. We prefer at least 10%, ideally of the worldwide box office."
"Pfft—haha!" Noah burst into laughter, clearly amused. To him, it sounded like a joke.
"And what makes you think we'd agree to those terms so easily?"
"If you don't, we have other options," Collin replied evenly. "Other studios are already reaching out. In fact, Wash Dismay Studio contacted us just yesterday after hearing that Wyatt had a new project in development. Maybe someone in your company is leaking information."
"Bullshit," Noah snapped. "If there's a spy, it's on your side, not mine. You know that."
Despite his denial, Noah made a mental note to double-check. It was possible someone on his team had leaked something without his knowledge.
"Here's what I'll offer," Noah said after a pause. "No condition of forfeiting the half of salary. In fact, I'll increase it to $8 million as a show of good faith. How about that?"
The name-drop had shaken Noah more than he wanted to admit. Wash Dismay was hungry for live-action content to diversify their catalog. Though best known for their animated, family-friendly films, they had a separate branch, Touchpebbles Pictures, for R-rated and live-action projects.
If they believed in the profitability of Week on a Cruise Ship, they'd jump on it, especially considering its franchise and merchandising potential.
The room fell quiet as Noah weighed the options.
'Should I let this project go?'
He already had a solid lineup of blockbusters scheduled over the next two years, but there was a glaring gap in June 1997. Week on a Cruise Ship had been scheduled for that slot. Losing it would leave a hole in their summer schedule.
'Maybe we can find something else in time… But this one fits perfectly.'
"The box office share is what we're prioritizing, plain and simple," Collin reiterated.
Noah gritted his teeth. Wyatt had clearly found himself a damn good agent.
'We showed too much of our hand early on. We shouldn't have been so eager during the pitch.'
"$5 million in salary," Noah finally said, "plus 5% of the North American box office as a performance incentive. Wyatt will receive 2% if the movie grosses over $100 million in North America. If it grosses over $200 million, then he'll get the full 5% as promised. It's performance-driven, a motivation for him to do his best. His salary as scriptwriter is already included in the $5 million."
Noah had structured the deal to be performance-based while lowering the flat salary. It was a calculated compromise that maintained studio control while offering significant upside for Wyatt.
"Deal accepted."
Collin extended his hand with a firm grip. Noah chuckled and shook it, sealing the agreement.
With the initial terms settled, they now had to iron out the contract's finer details and legal clauses to officially finalize the deal.