It could be said that David Fincher's films were meticulously chosen—each one had something in common, each carried that spark of greatness behind it, from Alien 3, Se7en, The Game, to Fight Club. The Game, for instance, may have had its production extended until 1998, given how thoroughly he liked to arrange every detail. How else could he create such exceptional sequences in each of his films?
Only through dedication did things work out—it seemed to be David's motto. He had a profound respect for the refined methods of filmmaking. Unlike others, he had to replay every scene in his head over and over until, when it was finally time to shoot, he delivered something magnificent.
Billy considered recruiting him for his Darth Vader series. Giving the show a melancholic and cinematic tone was exactly what he wanted for Star Wars—to treat it as more than just an action product. A premium production where emotions were always at the surface, and that was what David Fincher excelled at. Infusing emotions with real color, each with its grace, evoking feelings of hatred, contempt, or terror in viewers. His films may not always have been box office smashes, but they were always compelling.
–See you later, my love,– said Monica, kissing Billy deeply. It was 8:30 a.m., and their honeymoon phase showed no signs of fading—it only burned hotter by the day. He could feel her body pressed against him as she straightened his tie, wearing a violet nightgown and a cream-colored robe.
–I'm going shopping.–
–See you tonight. Don't forget to check out the new building Raimon is looking to buy in San Francisco,– Billy said.
She nodded... a one-hour round trip for one of their new acquisitions—a rental building, a ten-story structure big enough to house all of Pixar. But it was meant for renting, and eventually for resale, while they played the game of multiplying their money, retaining the commercial spaces on the ground floor, and slowly expanding franchises. Billy also planned to keep buying into the American Cheesecake company and eventually merge with his father, who was also purchasing shares. Between the two of them, they already held a nice 7%, thanks to their multiple investments, fueled monthly by profits from Fast Food Company, which also held a 3% stake, putting them in control of 10% of the company.
American Cheesecake had 22 restaurants and a market value of around $400 million, with earnings per share at a decent $0.50. Billy and his father were buying and rebuying between 30,000 to 50,000 shares a year. But Billy had already lined up a deal to buy 6% from an investor and another 7% from a fund—enough to secure a seat on the board of directors. Just one seat was enough, and his father would be the one occupying it.
–I've got it all in mind,– said Monica, adjusting Billy's colorful outfit—a red jacket, tight pants, and combat boots.
–Even the exclusive commercial zone you're developing in the luxury real estate department,– Monica added. Billy was buying up large plots to develop major real estate projects, building a true commercial empire.
–Behave yourself,– Billy said, giving Monica a playful slap on the butt, which made her jump. He then headed downstairs. Their Los Angeles mansion was simply cozy, with cheerful, vibrant paintings, flowers along the hallways, and high-end rugs that gave the place a princely touch.
Monica stretched her arms as she entered her wardrobe—it was the size of a bedroom. Thousands of high-end garments neatly arranged, shoes of every kind, and dresses worth more than a worker's monthly salary.
***
Fight Club remained a hands-on lesson in capitalist habits and the combat required to completely reject the corrupt system of status that trapped people.
–Billy, you've got to act with a bit more intensity,– said Edward Norton. They'd been filming for 15 days, though Edward had been on set for 25—he had more scenes and was eager to move on to his next project. It wasn't locked in yet, but he had it on his mind.
–You want me to hit you for real?– Billy asked.
–Just a little,– Edward replied. –You got time for a beer? Honestly, I could use a cold one after this shoot.–
–Let's do it,– Billy answered, though he was thinking about the comics he needed to submit soon, at least enough to keep things moving forward. Fullmetal Alchemist was developed up to chapters 60 and 55 in each of its two series, both aiming for 110 chapters total. The third storyline had reached chapter 41, starting at chapter 90, and it aimed to end on a much more tragic and powerful note than the others.
Billy infused the series with two philosophical currents—Nihilism and the teachings of St. Augustine, René Descartes, and the Greek philosophers—with layers of moral complexity so rich that three professors of moral philosophy were reviewing his dialogues in detail. They were close to completing another strong release, much like the ones that had brought people to love Bleach, which was ending its second Soul Society arc at chapter 150.
The next part of the arc would span chapters 150 to 240—Billy had already drawn up to chapter 183 and would pause after that arc to focus on Naruto and Fullmetal Alchemist. He expected to finish Fullmetal in a year and would try to keep Naruto under the 400-chapter mark. Naruto Shippuden would eventually merge with One Piece to create two massive comics with over 1000 chapters. He hoped to bring Bleach up to 900 chapters—though if he could take it to 1000, it would be absolute madness for the fans. Meanwhile, Hellsing was planned for 130 chapters—currently at 86. It was too early to wrap it up, but it might conclude by the end of 1997, as they released one chapter per week.
It might all seem fragmented, but each of his series just needed to keep being written. The plan was to draft the entire Silo series in notes and four books, shelve three thick volumes, and then repeat the process with the Night Angel saga or The Black Prism novel by Brent Weeks, now under Billy's ownership.
–We can grab a few beers. I've got a lighter schedule today,– Billy said to Edward Norton, who was starting to look better. His dark circles weren't so prominent anymore, though he still looked a bit disheveled, poorly groomed, and wearing makeup on his cheeks.
...
A sharp profile, soaking wet hair that looked like a bird's nest, and a devastatingly attractive figure, alongside her husband, Kenneth Charles Branagh, who, contrary to his formal demeanor, had a rocky relationship with Helena. Now, they seemed like two people who no longer wanted to be in the same room—likely heading toward divorce. Edward, though he wouldn't admit it, seemed attracted to her, and the scenes they filmed together were certainly... unique.
–Polyester shirts itch like hell,– Edward commented.
–I was watching a few scenes—what do you think of this dialogue?– Billy asked, showing him the paragraph he'd modified, along with some gestures. If there was one true thing, it was that Edward was utterly obsessed with cinema, always ready for the tough roles.
...