It was deeply painful to watch the money go straight down the drain; he was already close to losing everything. What a pain—and how real it felt. Construction was nearing completion in its own way; there were five to ten months left to finish the castle and its details, the thousands of paintings constantly being moved. Very difficult. For some, as for others, life kept moving over itself, and no one could deny seeing it.
Those who wished. Those who refused.
Hogwarts Castle at a 1:1 scale, 1:10 scale, 1:40 scale—the scale did not matter when it was a fact that everything was designed to be frighteningly expensive, and the thousands of rooms brought life to anyone who entered. Far too impersonal for people; what a problem it was for anyone.
Billy did everything he could, installing a kitchen of such quality it could make the finest hotels tremble. Every room was magnificent. What on earth it was when hotels gave life and stirred truth—whoever longed for a full life. Billy felt a kind of premonition when he saw how perfect the atmosphere was. One that turned and filled itself with that capitalist life: food courts that had not yet begun operating to introduce their brands, now to buy and expand. Burger King was on the table, and so was that Middle Eastern restaurant, being firmly taken over by the Box and Foods company.
But it wasn't only that. There was also the studio, with thousands of sets that could not be built on nearby locations, or the fact that he had created a small artificial lake that gave life, befitting the hectares purchased all around. It was very hard for anyone to truly take it all in. Each of the serieis s under his responsibility.
How difficult it was to build a covered miniature lake for the fourth book. How difficult it was to create massive green-screen halls. How difficult it was to build Azkaban and the locations of so many places. He built rooms for every ministry, anticipating the fifteen films that lay ahead, and the television series that would give them life—because each film was a concrete life of its own. None of that would matter in the end.
He left rooms unfinished for future films and left space to create new sets from them—sets that were difficult to even imagine.
It was possible that he would expand the magical world to Durmstrang and perhaps some of the Japanese schools, although by the time he got there, it would steal Japan's attention—and that was what mattered now that he had Johana's resentment. Yet his treatment was more than fair; every detail was part of the magic. That mattered more than anything else.
Because what he hoped for was to do a great deal with very little.
Rowling had no clear idea of when she had ceded the merchandising and theme park rights; that was simply how it happened, even if many would later strongly deny it. Having full control over sales was what made it worthwhile, while he convinced Rowling to continue with the films. They would shoot the first two movies back-to-back, hoping that when the fourth book arrived, he could speak with her about producing some sequels—like one about the founders—now that the investment was justified.
For that reason, and because of the writing that kept forming in Billy's mind, it would amount to between ten and twelve films.
-—All of that, Johana,— Steve Parks commented.
-—People might want to do something.
Thousands of days ago, or perhaps over the coming months. She lived and breathed for the series, over and over again. She tried to publish, and when the fourth book was about to arrive—
-—We'll do the fourth book. It's just that I'm surprised by how cautious Billy has been. For months now, I can't quite understand what will happen once he makes the entire film,— Rowling sighed, wanting to bang her head against the wall. She needed to give life to the third work.
-—Billy says it's enough for you to write calmly. You've left everything to make the series, and as long as you understand what you're doing,— Steve Parks remarked.
He detected her exhaustion; it showed in the way she breathed. It was simply draining. And although Billy would deny it, bringing the story to life was… a pleasure. Billy loved every book; his face lit up each time. But he also understood, in his own way, that every game brought life.
He wished he could refuse, but Billy's ability to weave different stories together was simply brilliant.
***
It was difficult, but it had been happening in the cinema for months, in many places. Billy tried, in his own way, for days on end.
-—I'd like to participate, but I'm afraid I have a film from August to November,— Billy commented.
-—We can do it in December. It will be shot in Italy and Spain, and there are some places I simply don't think I can make it to,— Billy added, offering a slight apology.
-—Then we can wait. There are scenes we don't need, and it's perfect, because for the December scenes, I'm counting on you,— Anthony Magnolia commented.
-—Hey, wait, but I don't even know the role,— Billy replied. For months now, doubt itself had felt like a scene that was anything but ordinary.
-—Ha,— Anthony laughed. —You're perfect. It's a supporting role. You'll play the rich son—the man who has money and wastes it, who lives to party most of the time, and most of the time is simply everything everyone wants to be. But then he becomes someone people hate, because he's cruel and, in his own way, just a spoiled kid living a life everyone envies.—
-—Then I trust you,— Billy whispered. —But next time, send me how much it hurts.
-—Jim will have it on his desk tomorrow. And don't be abusive with the salary,— Anthony commented, now considering him part of that Hollywood elite.
-—As long as the money is enough,— Billy replied. For how hard life was. It was about the brand or the image, but that hadn't mattered to him for some time. Anthony knew that Billy liked doing things his own way; strong supporting roles were also memorable and left room to make other films.
Then he knew that Anthony had already spoken with Jim, and Jim had agreed, knowing that Anthony had a role in all of it, and that was the bare minimum. Time—that was certain. Because, as a lead role, it took time, and with The Mumm,y he had proven how to do a lot with very little.
How good the role was—and now he also had to do weekly shoots to help Winona, which were beginning. He would film, and he didn't want it to be a trivial recording: just three appearances in which he had to play the loving boyfriend, while carrying four films per year, two major promotions, and three dubbing projects—two of which he had already completed—and then he added another. That other one was the third, which he would complete with The Tin Soldier.
…
Michael was now judging the main characters. For some time, it had been complex and indifferent—adapting a film that was anything but simple.
-—The hard part might pass,— Anthony commented. For months, he had been learning about favors, but Billy's performance left him completely speechless. The depth of the young man seemed to evolve constantly, always striking with precision when it came to landing the best role.
-—We have ten to twelve days,— Anthony replied, knowing how difficult William Horberg could be with others. For a long time,e it had hurt to see them try to impose their own will—what a moment.
-—We wanted DiCaprio for Ripley, but he's not ready,— William replied.
-—Matt Damon—he already accepted after seeing the auditions. I think you'll end up begging for him,— Anthony replied, following the young man's career as closely as a magnifying glass. The source of life, at that point, was exactly what had been expected.
...