Anson froze and glanced out the window, catching a glimpse of Mackie's face in the rearview mirror—tears streaming down his cheeks.
His usually smooth hair was being whipped wildly by the wind as he shouted with a trembling voice. His slightly reddened eyes sparkled with tears, creating a scene straight out of a pure-hearted romance or a youthful drama. However, when you paired this with Mackie's well-groomed beard and typical nerdy appearance, the whole scenario started to feel oddly out of place.
"We... boohoo... we! We're finally going to shoot our first movie!"
"We're going to be superstars! Hollywood, here we come!"
"Boohoohoo, boohoohoo."
As he spoke, Mackie began crying uncontrollably, his tears and snot mixing together into a messy display.
Anson, feeling awkward, cleared his throat.
"Mackie, Eric, there's one more issue."
In an instant, Eric turned around to face Anson again, his eyes filled with fear.
"Do they not want us to direct? That's our bottom line, no way—"
"No, Eric, it's not that," Anson quickly cut him off before he could spiral further. "I know that's non-negotiable, and I've already secured that for you. Don't worry; you two are the directors, and the producer won't be changing the script either."
Mackie finally caught up with the conversation, his nose as red as Rudolph's, sniffling pitifully as he looked at Anson through the rearview mirror, his tear-filled eyes brimming with anxiety.
Anson made a calming gesture with his right hand. "Calm down, calm down."
"Listen, we haven't signed anything yet; the contract isn't finalized. If you're not happy, you can back out anytime. We can refuse, and if necessary, we'll move on to the next studio."
"This is Hollywood. We don't need to put all our eggs in one basket."
What Anson didn't mention was that he believed DreamWorks and Sony Columbia were their last hopes—the former because of his personal connection with Steven Spielberg, and the latter due to ongoing negotiations over *Spider-Man 2*. In any case, with Anson's name attached, they would eventually find an investor.
He was confident about that.
Right now, they were still in control, able to choose the company they wanted to work with. So, Anson wasn't too worried.
After countless rejections, Eric and Mackie couldn't help but be on edge, but they finally realized that with Anson as their producer, the project's fate might have completely changed.
Today was the best proof of that.
Previously, they had been going in circles with no end in sight. But ever since Anson joined them, they had made a breakthrough in just a week—or more accurately, in just one morning.
Seeing Anson's calm demeanor and the strong confidence radiating from him, the anxiety and restlessness in the car gradually dissipated. After their initial shock and excitement, they managed to regain some composure.
Slowly, Mackie drove into the lane, ready to buy burgers and fries—
"In-N-Out" was initially famous for its drive-thru service, with relatively few customers dining inside.
After placing the order, they circled half the store to pick up their food at the window.
"Hey, Anson."
"Anson Wood!"
"Oh my God, oh my God, Anson, you're the most handsome man in the world!"
The employee at the window couldn't believe their eyes when they saw Anson. They let out a string of exclamations and even leaned out of the window, clutching Anson's right hand tightly while letting out dolphin-like squeals. They resembled a fish out of water, flopping around with all their might.
The scene made Anson chuckle.
After keeping a low profile in Portland and Columbus and now returning to Los Angeles, Anson could feel the overwhelming *Spider-Man* frenzy growing stronger and stronger—
From Warner Bros. to New Line Cinema to the burger joint they were now at, every step of the way, he could feel the intense gazes from all around. And it wasn't just from industry insiders or regular audiences—their eyes were full of curiosity and interest.
Anson was truly experiencing the superstar treatment, but instead of the glamorous image he had imagined, the scene in his mind resembled *E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial*.
He was the E.T. in this scenario.
Anson flashed a smile. "Shh, let's keep this a secret. Otherwise, if my personal trainer finds out, my training schedule for next week might double."
A small joke earned an enthusiastic nod from the employee, who used all their strength to agree while still trembling uncontrollably.
Then, one by one, more employees from the store came out to greet Anson, eager to join in the excitement.
Finally, before the crowd could gather further and cause chaos, their car slowly pulled away. Only then did Anson notice Mackie and Eric's wide-eyed expressions of shock—
Once again, the two writers were forced to reconsider. They suddenly realized that they might never have fully understood Anson's market appeal.
So, was this a good thing?
Or was it a bad thing? Would the excessive attention on Anson overshadow the film itself, potentially leading to its failure?
For a moment, their minds were filled with swirling thoughts. After the initial surprise and panic, they even forgot how to respond.
Eric stared at the burger in his hand, lost in thought, still preoccupied with the project and completely losing his appetite.
Mackie, who hadn't planned on eating the burger anyway, swallowed hard and finally couldn't hold back any longer.
"Anson, what exactly was the issue you mentioned earlier?"
Anson had just taken a bite of his burger and gestured for Mackie to wait a moment as he chewed, swallowed, and then spoke. "The budget."
Both of them froze.
Mackie and Eric immediately realized the seriousness of the situation—
Although they hadn't planned on making a big-budget commercial film, a lower budget would change everything.
First, the way the crew shot the film could change completely, and they might not be able to use as many visual effects.
Second, the cast and crew might also change, and they wouldn't be able to hire big-name actors.
Third, if the budget was lower than expected, it would directly affect the film's release scale and promotional efforts. After all, no studio would spend $50 million to promote a $10 million movie. Both the screening and marketing resources would be reduced.
A single budget change could affect a lot of things.
However, Mackie and Eric had already anticipated this possibility. With the two of them directing, they lacked the star power, so if they insisted on directing, they would have to make some sacrifices.
That's why they initially insisted on a $20 million budget. It wasn't that the film actually needed that much money; it was a strategy.
If they could secure that amount, it would be great. But if not, they had room to negotiate and compromise.
It was all part of the plan.
Unfortunately, so far, whenever a producer or studio heard that Mackie and Eric planned to direct their debut film, they didn't even give them a chance to negotiate or adjust. They simply brushed it off and… that was the end of it.
Now, it seemed that the $20 million idea might have been a terrible one that scared away the producers and studios from the start.
Taking a deep breath, Mackie looked into the rearview mirror. "What's the budget?"
"Ten million dollars," Anson said.