At an open-air restaurant halfway up Beverly Hills.
In the early morning sun, two Hollywood heavyweights, Barry Diller and Michael Eisner, lounged at a terrace table overlooking all of Los Angeles.
After ordering, Michael Eisner turned to Barry Diller. "You probably haven't seen last week's box office report yet? $13.88 million, three-week cumulative $53.85 million. Goldberg can finally hold his head up this year."
It was May 1, a Friday.
Michael Eisner hadn't named the film, but Barry Diller knew the only one pulling over $10 million in a dead season like this was Fox's lingering release, The Butterfly Effect.
Focused on running the Fox Television Network, Barry Diller hadn't paid much mind to the film side. "What about that Run Lola Run?" he pressed.
Michael Eisner's expression grew even more wistful; he shook his head slightly. "$7.59 million, cumulative $175.6 million—Orion could clear over $80 million just from the box office. Add Platoon, and from February till now, Orion's stock has tripled. Market cap's nearing $1 billion. I hear Sumner Redstone and John Kluge are both scheming to grab control."
Barry Diller found it equally astounding. Thinking of the young man everyone had been buzzing about lately, he couldn't help saying, "What a miraculous kid. Maybe I should make time to meet him."
Michael Eisner smiled faintly. "If you want to see him, you could join me in Burbank later."
Barry Diller shot him a puzzled look.
A waiter arrived with their breakfast just then, pausing the conversation. Once the server left, Michael Eisner picked up his utensils and dug in, continuing: "The kid started a production company—you've heard?"
Barry Diller nodded with a grin. "Of course. Daenerys Films. Poached one of our Fox production VPs, too."
Michael Eisner flashed a schadenfreude smile before going on: "Daenerys is shopping distribution for a film; Disney's one of their options. Plus, Simon Westeros pitched us an animation script, wants us to produce it on commission. I've got a meeting with Amy Pascal today to hash it out. Just have someone call and get Westeros over too."
Barry Diller nodded, paused, then shook his head faintly.
They'd been colleagues back at ABC; Michael Eisner knew Barry Diller inside out. Catching that subtle gesture, he understood the shake was aimed at Leonard Goldberg.
Simon Westeros had already done two films with Fox—Final Destination might still be unproven, but The Butterfly Effect was a smash. Under those circumstances, Fox should have been Daenerys's go-to partner.
Now, Leonard Goldberg had clearly fumbled another chance.
Michael Eisner didn't think much of Leonardd Goldberg himself. But he knew the deep friendship between Goldberg and Barry Diller, so he said: "It's not really on Leonard. The film's director and writer aren't Westeros, and the script's pretty anti-mainstream. Daenerys is only offering North American theatrical rights, and they want next year's Easter slot."
Barry Diller listened quietly, then asked: "And you?"
"Next Easter, we were planning a re-release of Bambi—adding one live-action won't strain distribution. And you've seen Run Lola Run sure, its success had flukes, but Westeros's filmmaking chops are impeccable. I'm thinking of locking him down for a few directing deals." Michael Eisner paused, then grinned. "So, Barry—you in to meet the kid?"
...
As Barry Diller and Michael Eisner shared breakfast, a bit earlier, Simon stirred awake in his Century Tower apartment.
In the study, no less.
Sighing inwardly at the bleakness of bachelor life, Simon tidied the pile of finance books by the sofa and rose, approaching the whiteboard embedded in the study wall.
The broad surface held rough sketches of the Dow Jones and S&P 500 indices for the coming months, surrounded by dense annotations in a mishmash of French, Spanish, Hebrew, and more.
Scrounging these details from a dozen memories hadn't been easy—often just fleeting glimpses. It had taken Simon a week to gather them.
For safety, he'd avoided English labels; the other languages were all cryptic hints only he could parse. Beyond the charts, even if discovered, the rest would likely baffle anyone.
He studied it a moment, then carefully erased the charts he'd redrawn countless times until they were etched in his mind, leaving only the scattered notes. With that, he left the study.
He'd scheduled supporting auditions for Pulp Fiction that morning, but over breakfast, Amy called: Michael Eisner wanted him personally at today's meeting. Plans changed on the fly.
...
At eight, Simon met Amy first, then they headed to Disney's Burbank headquarters.
A secretary led them to a conference room. Stepping in, Simon spotted not just Michael Eisner but another middle-aged man at the table. He recognized him instantly: Barry Diller, chairman and CEO of Twentieth Century Fox.
Greetings exchanged, Simon shook Michael Eisner's hand, then extended to Barry Diller with a smile. "Mr. Diller, pleasure to meet you. Your high-concept model has benefited every filmmaker out there."
Barry Diller clasped his hand, then gestured to the When Harry Met Sally script he'd been reading through, asking: "But Simon, I notice your projects aren't exactly high-concept?"
Simon caught Amy and Eisner watching with interest, awaiting his reply. He laughed lightly, keeping it breezy: "Daenerys Films is still just a child—kids get to be creative. Once grown, it'll toe the line."
Barry Diller arched a brow at the poised, ambitious response, delivered without pause. "I'm eager to see Daenerys 'grown up.'"
With that, they all took seats around the table. Noting Michael Eisner's lack of rush to business, Simon grasped that the two moguls had summoned him mainly for a look-see.
No chance to waste, then. He turned back to Barry Diller: "Mr. Diller, I hear you're helping Mr. Murdoch build out the Fox Network. Maybe we could collaborate next year."
Barry Diller eyed the young man across from him. "Why not this year? Simon, May's pitch season—if you've got ideas, head to New York now."
North American networks locked in their annual slates every May. So each year, producers from across the continent—and globe—flocked to New York, hawking shows through endless pitches.
Simon shook his head. "Daenerys won't cut it this year; we're too small. But next year? Could be different."
Barry Diller pressed: "Meaning Daenerys could 'grows up' in just a year?"
"Of course not," Simon replied, shaking his head. "I mean the WGA might strike next year. Then Daenerys could snag some openings."
As it stood, if Daenerys pitched to networks—even with killer ideas—the best outcome was selling the concept, then getting commissioned to produce. Rights would belong to the network.
What Simon wanted was the Warner or Universal model: sell first-run rights only, retain ancillaries. Maximum upside for Daenerys.
To pull that off short-term, they'd need to capitalize on next year's strike crippling networks' output.
Barry Diller absorbed the explanation. "Simon, aren't you a Writers Guild member? If WGA strikes next year, you wouldn't join?"
Simon shook his head. "Barry, I'm not in the WGA—and I don't plan to join."
Barry Diller studied him a moment longer, then broke into a smile. He fished a card from his suit pocket and passed it over. "Truly a pleasure, Simon. Call me if you need anything."
"Of course."
Simon took the card, reciprocating with one of his own.
Barry Diller pocketed it, then rose to bid farewell.
Once he was gone, the trio resettled in the conference room.
Michael Eisner flipped open his memo pad, almost instinctively bypassing Amy Pascal—who'd been negotiating with him for weeks—and addressing Simon directly: "On When Harry Met Sally, Simon: Disney can give you Easter, minimum 1,000 screens. But we want two directing deals—scripts from you or us, pay TBD per project. As for The Lion King, our animation division doesn't do work-for-hire. So we'd buy the script outright: $300,000. What do you say?"
Before this meeting, Michael Eisner had planned to hold firm.
But Simon's exchange with Barry Diller lingered in his mind, alongside the young man's whirlwind year. Instinctively, he sensed Disney should close this deal—hence the open-ended closer.
[TL/N: My racism is taking me over again when i see the word 'Chinese/Mandarin/Mainland' please ignore it when i change those words later to "Ching Chong(languange,people,country) later.]