"Ahhhh——!"
"So good, so good, so good——!"
As Isabella's singing filled the theater, as the movie's theme song The Climb played on repeat, Yara Carson finally—after two hours of staring at the screen without blinking—was able to breathe again.
And yes, ever since the movie truly kicked off—when the father fell from heaven to hell and was then pulled back up by Lily Zeller—Yara Carson's eyes hadn't left the screen for a second.
Not only because the film was exceptionally well made—
The plot was so rich.
And the structure? Crystal clear.
Most importantly, the storytelling never dragged. You didn't even have to think to get what the director was saying, what the characters were feeling.
But the biggest thing? The entire movie was just pure catharsis from start to finish—
Family tells me not to compete?
You get to dream but I don't?
Regional contests too easy?
Then I'll just crush them all.
Finals, and there's a boss-level opponent?
Let's see who's stronger!
When gentle Lily Zeller dropped that "Because I want to," after paving her way with original songs the whole journey, Yara just about lost it. That girl on screen was ridiculously cool.
Sure, Lily Zeller was kind, understanding, full of warmth.
But when everyone doubted her, when her "pentagon chart" looked like a crushed bug—
She could still shine razor-sharp.
"Daddy——what did you think of the movie——"
As cheers filled the room, Yara turned to her dad.
The lights had come back on; under the white glare, she could see his slightly red eyes.
His gaze shimmered, touched by the Zeller family.
Maybe he was even cheering for Lily Zeller herself.
"Do you think Isabella's gorgeous and radiant? You totally want to watch The Voice of the World again with your lovely daughter, don't you? If that's the case, I guess I can agree to that!"
Her dad's amused reaction made her fox grin widen.
She really wanted—desperately—to rewatch The Voice. To see that dazzling, impossibly talented girl again.
That grin made Mr. Carson both exasperated and fond. He rubbed her head—his chatterbox was finally out of words.
"Even though I think The Voice was great, and I'd gladly watch it again with you, we have to stick to what we agreed on. Tonight, we're watching The Voice and Catch Me If You Can."
"We just finished The Voice, so…"
"Moooommy~~~~"
Before he could finish, Yara whipped around to her mother, voice sugary enough to rot teeth.
Mr. Carson's face darkened instantly.
Her mother burst out laughing. "Okay, okay. I agree with your dad. The Voice was amazing. So sure, we can watch it again…"
"Yay——!"
Yara threw up her arms in triumph.
But her mom added, "Before we watch it again, I want to know why you want a second round. Just because Isabella's cool?"
"Of course! Uh…"
Yara nodded, then shook her head. "That's part of it, but not all."
"Oh? Then what else?"
"Yeah~~~"
"Can you tell me?"
"Hmm… I think Sir Hopkins was amazing too. The look in his eyes when he missed Grandma—it reminded me of Grandpa and Pop-Pop. And Jude Law, the emotion with his wife… that was so real. Oh, and Bale and the sister—their story was so touching. And the music! Isabella's singing was beautiful. That last song, The Climb—it just hit different…"
As they left the theater, Yara ticked off each thing on her fingers while talking to her mom. The sight made both parents laugh, and even other Potterheads leaving the cinema gave her approving smiles.
After all, most of the first-day audience were Harry Potter fans.
So when someone praised "the little beaver," it basically turned into a fan therapy session.
Seeing how much their daughter loved the movie, Mrs. Carson happily agreed to watch it again.
Except… when they went to buy tickets, they found out—
"What do you mean, sold out?"
Mr. Carson froze.
"Yes, sir, the 3 p.m. showing of The Voice of the World is sold out," said the red-vested ticket clerk apologetically. "You can try the 5, 6, or 7 p.m. showings. Those still have a few seats left."
"But…"
"Not many."
Cinemas in Europe aren't like in China—no reserved seats. It's first come, first served. Even if you prepay, you don't get to choose your spot. Most people just buy tickets at the counter right before showtime.
When a clerk says "not many seats," it usually means "enjoy your corner of the front row."
And since the Carsons hadn't bought tickets in advance—thinking, Come on, how crowded could it be?—well, they'd guessed wrong.
They had to pay the price for it.
It was 2:30. The next showing was at 5. Three hours of waiting on Christmas Day? Torture.
"Dad, it's fine," Yara said, disappointment flickering in her eyes but a small smile on her lips. "Let's just go. We can watch it again tomorrow. It's Christmas—we can't spend the whole day in the theater."
"Isabella said in the movie that we should chase our dreams—but not forget the people beside us."
"So… should we go to Grandpa's for dinner like we planned?"
Her parents exchanged looks—surprised, proud.
Their daughter was growing up.
But where there's joy, there's jealousy.
Cue our old friends: Anne Hathaway and Lindsay Lohan.
Neither was having a good day.
They'd both just seen The Voice, and neither could understand how Isabella was winning.
"Mom, do you really think Isabella wrote that script herself?"
"Using a three-act structure to tell six interconnected stories in under two hours, while driving emotion through three major competitions? That kind of screenplay… that kind of screenplay… could a twelve-year-old really write that?"
Anne Hathaway threw her purse onto the couch, glaring at her mother, her eyes blazing with a single thought—
I don't buy it.
She couldn't believe The Voice was Isabella's own creation.
It was too sophisticated.
She couldn't even believe Isabella had come up with the story idea—six lives, six arcs. That's about as complex as Hollywood storytelling gets. Even professional writers struggle to juggle that. So how could a kid do it?
Her mother, Kate, also found it hard to believe. But were they in any position to question Spielberg? Or Warner Bros.?
Not a chance.
So when both Warner and Chris Columbus insisted the story came from Isabella—and even the rival Ross family stayed silent—it could only mean one thing: The Voice was hers.
"So, Anne," her mother said softly, "embrace The Phantom of the Opera."
"I'm serious."
Anne shuddered. She hated the idea of going full art-house actress.
Meanwhile, on the other side of town—
"Mom, what did you say? Paramount said no business on Christmas?"
"Yep. You saw me call," Lindsay Lohan's mom waved her Motorola. "The production manager said he's on vacation in Florida. Whatever it is, we'll talk after New Year."
Lindsay froze.
Then she laughed—sharp, cold, knowing.
"Okay, okay, okay…"
"I get it now."
"They must've seen The Voice too."
"And decided…"
"Queen bee doesn't need to happen anymore."
Exactly.
After watching The Voice, Lindsay immediately had her mom contact Paramount to discuss the collaboration for Queen bee.
Because when she saw with her own eyes how The Voice stirred waves of excitement in the theaters, she knew that her dream of raising her asking price and earning a higher salary was dead. A movie like The Voice simply couldn't fail.
And since she could no longer increase her worth by riding on someone else's failure, all she could do was embrace what she had.
But unfortunately, even that… was now in the past.
"Sorry, it's a call from Lindsay."
Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, California—
At Paramount's headquarters on Melrose Avenue, a white man in a dress shirt stepped into a sleek conference room.
He set his phone on the table, sat down, and said with a grin, "Lindsay's getting desperate."
"Hahaha~~~"
His words drew chuckles all around.
Everyone understood what he meant.
No one cared how Lindsay felt.
"Shall we continue?"
The middle-aged man sitting across from him asked with a smile.
"Sure."
The man in the shirt nodded.
Even though it was Christmas Day, there's no such thing as a real holiday in the entertainment industry.
So, with The Voice now released, Paramount—hoping to strengthen its position in the young adult film market—naturally turned its attention to the hottest star in that circle, Miss Beaver herself. And then—
After watching the film together, they were stunned.
Before release, they already believed The Voice wouldn't flop—Columbus never makes bad films, and with that kind of cast, when both the chef and the ingredients are top-tier, the dish can't turn out bad.
But what they didn't expect was that the supposed weak link, Isabella, would be so brilliant.
Sure, even Paramount had assumed The Voice would be decent. But none of them thought a twelve-year-old could deliver such a performance. Lack of skill and experience—those aren't things even "genius" can always make up for.
And yet now—
Heh.
Everyone could see it—The Voice was a tailor-made film.
"So, what did you all think of The Voice?"
"It was excellent."
"How excellent?"
"The story's clear, the characters are vivid, and most importantly, for a road movie, it doesn't carry that heavy sense of depression. Or rather—it turns all the pressure into motivation and explosive power for the protagonist's growth. It's incredibly satisfying to watch."
"Mm, and beyond that, the music was exceptional too. The father's song of chasing dreams, the grandfather's nostalgic melody, the mother's declaration of love, the uncle and sister's battle cry for ambition—whether original or cover versions, every track was perfect. It adds tremendous value to the movie and might even turn it into a classic."
Since everyone's standpoint differed, they each saw the world in their own way.
In the eyes of Anne Hathaway and Lindsay Lohan, Isabella had proven herself in the young adult genre—taking up their space.
But in Paramount's eyes, The Voice might just be a classic.
Because it brought audiences so many beautiful emotions—
For example, at the start, Lily Zeller's heartfelt persuasion of her dad—just the line "Dad is the family's Superman" alone could move countless middle-aged viewers.
Then, in the middle of the film, Lily's speech to her parents—"Even the greatest love will one day return to peace in the ordinary"—that thought was sure to capture countless women's hearts.
And in the finale, facing her strongest rival, Lily's reason for sticking to an original song—"Because I want to"—was such a willful, powerful line. That kind of confidence electrifies teenagers.
Sure, these scenes might not be on the same level as E.T.'s "finger touch" moment in cinema history—but who cares? Not every classic has to be that classic.
If The Voice could reach E.T.-level impact, Isabella's name alone would be worth $500 million!
Her whole generation of young actresses might as well jump off a cliff.
She's got Hermione Granger and can make her own E.T.—why would anyone else even bother living, right?
Restart the game—this life's over!
But even if The Voice couldn't reach E.T.'s height, its warm, refreshing storytelling had already changed everything.
It raised the production standard for young adult films—
Just like how Titanic crushed the romance genre.
After Titanic, for a long while, Hollywood's Big Six stopped investing in love stories.
Because when movies of the same type come out too close together, audiences inevitably compare.
And when Titanic's momentum was still going strong…
Every other love story was doomed.
"So… we're shelving Queen bee for now?"
After half an hour of discussion, Paramount's executives reached a consensus.
"I agree."
"Same here."
"I'd like to say we should wait for The Voice's real numbers, but… come on. If The Voice somehow crashes after that, then the problem isn't Isabella—it's the entire market."
"Hahahaha~~~"
Since it was Christmas, even if the meeting was important, they didn't stay too long.
Once the decision was made, the Paramount execs headed home to their families. But before they left, they made sure the on-duty staff would closely monitor The Voice's box office performance and report any changes immediately.
And that was when—
"Isabella's new movie The Voice of the World is suuuper amazing! Over two hours and not a single boring second! Totally thrilling from start to finish! Little Beaver's defiant attitude is just too cool—!"
"Oh! Hermione's singing voice is sooo pretty!"
"The Voice is a fantastic film! Highly recommended!"
"You'll absolutely feel your ticket was worth it!"
Even though The Voice officially opened at 10 a.m. on December 25th—no midnight showings (parents wouldn't let kids stay up that late)—by afternoon, the screenings had only just begun across regions.
But already, Yahoo, IMDb, and Rotten Tomatoes were flooding with reviews.
Well, what do you expect? Isabella's fanbase was made up of young people—overflowing with energy.
So when her core fans loved the movie this much, the ratings naturally soared.
Still, movies like this—without midnight premieres—don't get official scores on day one.
So the only near-real-time indicator was the daily box office from the North American Theater Alliance.
That data wouldn't arrive until early the next morning.
December 26th, 4 a.m.—Hollywood was wide awake.
Warner Bros. chairman Barry Meyer couldn't sleep—The Voice was tied to his fortune.
Disney COO Robert Iger couldn't sleep either—he'd bet big on Isabella.
And across the continent, New Line Cinema's founder sat drinking with them in spirit. He couldn't accept The Lord of the Rings failing.
But fate doesn't bend to human will.
When New Line tried to fudge The Fellowship of the Ring's early numbers…
"B-Boss…"
Robert Shaye's secretary nervously pushed open the office door.
The man's stammer and tense face made Shaye sigh inwardly.
He already knew.
But he needed to hear it.
"Go on."
His lips tightened as he looked coldly at the secretary.
"The Christmas Day box office numbers are in. We made $9.88 million."
"Catch Me If You Can made $8.38 million."
"And The Voice… The Voice…"
The secretary swallowed hard, looking like he might cry.
Finally, he said, "The Voice made $10.18 million."
"Topping the…"
"Daily chart."
Snap!
Robert Shaye squeezed his pen so hard the cap flew off.
He couldn't accept it.
Because if The Lord of the Rings got beaten by The Voice, then they might face the same box office disaster as Star Wars and Harry Potter had before—losing the year's box office crown for 2002.
But…
He couldn't think of a way to fix it.
So—
"…Got it."
He sighed deeply and slumped in his chair.
Staring up at the white ceiling, he gave his final hope to God—
"Winning day one doesn't mean winning overall, right?"
"Because the first-day audience are always diehard fans. Only the second, third, or even next week's numbers can show how the general public really feels about The Voice."
"Right?"
"So…"
"You can go now."
His words made the secretary's Adam's apple twitch.
He wanted to speak, but couldn't find the words.
After a long pause, he nodded, sniffled, and left.
But as soon as he stepped outside—
Crash!
A loud bang echoed behind him.
Robert Shaye had hurled his chair into his desk.
The secretary shut his eyes.
He knew—New Line had basically lost.
(End of Chapter)