Chapter 18
Next chapter. Let me quickly move on to the review left behind.
nobody189, ya, I felt the same way after I finished that chapter.
Ser_Lanciscazzo, it's an original work. I hope you are enjoying it. If you have ideas or something you would like me to cover, leave a review, and I will read it and see if I can do anything with it. I can't promise anything because, for example, I wanted to do something with The Mask of Zorro, but forgot it came out in 1998. But I will try with all the ideas sent my way.
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"Usher, tell us about your friendship with Caesar and the events leading up to the night he was stabbed?" Oprah asks.
Taking a moment to think about how he wished to answer this, Usher decides to go with the truth, "Well, ah, Oprah, there was no friendship there when I first met the guy. Before that night, I didn't even know him. I mean, I knew about him, but I had never met the guy in person."
"And yet you jump in when he needed help, and he credits you and Dr. Dre for saving his life." Oprah points out.
"Well, we kind of did," Usher says, looking a bit shy at answering this. After all, he didn't expect to go to a club with Puff Daddy only to end up saving perhaps the most brilliant writer of their time.
"Yes, but why did you jump in to help? Were you not scared?" Oprah asks.
"Oh God, yes, I was scared. I mean, I was still that choir boy from Tennessee at the time. I had never been exposed to that type of violence before, unlike Dre, but I knew what needed to be done the moment it happened. The moment that guy hit that woman and I saw Caesar, I knew things were going to get real very quickly, and I couldn't just sit back and do nothing, so I made my way over there as quickly as I could to have his back." Usher says.
"And save his life as a result." Oprah points out again.
"True that, but it wasn't just me. You know, Dre was there too, and he was keeping a cooler head than I was. He was the one who told me to take off my belt and use it to stop the bleeding on Caesar's arm. I mean, I was scared shitless, but Dre was cool as ice." Usher points out.
Oprah smiles at this. She loved to hear tales about her people doing good things, "But you two were not friends."
Opening his eyes widely, Usher shakes his head jokingly and says, "No, no, not at all, and to be honest, I kind of didn't want to be."
Laughing a bit, Oprah says, "Why not? I mean, Caesar was the biggest writer in Hollywood at the time."
"That he was and still is, and a smart man would want to be friends with him. God, I was there when his career really started to take off, and people were throwing themselves at him across the board, but when I first saw him, I was kind of hesitant to be around him. You know what I mean?" Usher says.
Oprah nods her head and says, "I know exactly what you mean."
Having had Caesar sit across from her before, she understood how intimidating he could be. So, she definitely understood.
"But you know to be serious for a moment here. After that night, I learned several things." Usher says to her.
"What did you learn?" Oprah asks.
Taking a moment, Usher answered, "I learned that Caesar was capable of great violence with no regard for his own safety if pushed. And I learned what it meant to be a man."
"What do you mean?" Oprah says.
"Well, I am not going to lie, Oprah, when that guy attacked that woman, my first instinct wasn't to jump in and do something about it. Like everyone else there except for Dre, who was moving towards where the guy was, and Caesar, who got their first. I didn't immediately think about protecting her or that I may end up risking my own life in doing so. Caesar did. Without fear, he did..." Shaking his head like he still can't believe what he witnessed that night, Usher continues, "You can't tell me that isn't what a real man would do."
Oprah can't do anything more than agree and nod.
"Are you two friends now?" She asks.
Smiling, Usher says, "Well, I have been in several of his movies, so I'd like to think so."
-1997-
God, I hate hospitals. I thought to myself as I flipped through the channels on the TV. It's the smell and feeling it gives off. I forgot what they called it, but it reminded me of bleach, and seeing as this was a place where people came when they got sick or were about to die, it was fucking depressing. But I guess that is what I get for being stupid, and don't get it mixed up. I was well aware of how ridiculous my stunt was on the Tonight Show.
Not even a full day after I was stabbed, I checked myself out of the hospital, risking potential death due to either blood loss or infection. The latter, I actually got, and that was why I was still currently in the hospital months after I was stabbed. From what the doctors told me, I was touch-and-go there for a moment. I don't honestly remember seeing, as I had passed out on the way back to the hospital and remained unconscious for a few days.
But in the end, it was worth it, seeing as my lawyer Alex had told me the moment I woke up that things had gone precisely as I had predicted. The DA had dropped all the charges against me. The story was already out, and too many eyewitnesses had come forward blaming the other guy for the attack. No one in their right mind would have tried to press charges against me at that point. It was amusing but not nearly as funny as when I found out the woman whom the guy had hit was pressing changers against him. He was still in a coma, but I wish I could be there to see his face when her woke up to find himself in handcuffs. I couldn't keep the smile off my face at the thought of it.
However, while I may have won the battle for popular opinion and keeping my ass out of jail, not everything went my way. A few hours after I had woken up, Tiff showed up at the hospital and broke up with me. Well, I say break up, but it was more like she slapped the shit out of me and told me we were over before storming off. You think she would have shown a bit of pity for a guy who was fighting off an infection and a stab wound, but nope. There was none to be found that day, and I would love to say she was the only one, but Salma showed up too. However, she had the decency to wait a few days before showing up and slapping me. Not physically, mind you.
No, she took the high ground and instead handed me a non-disclosure agreement to sign that stated that I wouldn't tell anyone about our child without her permission, as well as giving up the right to pursue custody after it was born. A cruel move? Maybe, but I didn't blame her and signed the agreement, no questions asked. She did tell me, however, that I could sign the birth certificate if I wanted to, but my reckless behavior had convinced her that she wanted me to have nothing to do with the raising of our child. It was nothing personal, but she was scared that I wouldn't be around long enough to help raise the kid in the first place. She was looking out for the child's best interest, and I got that, but the blow was still heavy. Far heavier than I had expected when I signed the papers.
Other than that, things were going all right. Scream 2 and Urban Legends received a strong reception, primarily because of the attack on me rather than the movies themselves.
I wasn't complaining, seeing as Urban Legends had done much better than it perhaps had the right to. Earning 65 million at the domestic box office after its run time, it was projected to clear at least 100 million worldwide. It went without saying that the Weinstein brothers were happy. They were not as satisfied as they would have been if they owned Scream, but for a 14-million-dollar investment, it was good enough.
As for Scream 2, it did something you rarely saw in a sequel. It surpassed the first movie in net earnings. The final numbers weren't in yet and wouldn't be for some time, but domestically, it had earned over $300 million. Internationally, it was projected to earn another 100 million, if not more. Robert was tremendously happy, Arnold was as well, and Wes —well, he sent me a fruit basket with a prop knife and a Ghostface mask as a thank-you. Something, by the way, that was currently flying off the shelves, according to my accountant. In total, I had earned 4 million plus dollars from my one percent take at the box office. Something I was tremendously happy about, seeing as my finances had taken a brutal hit as of late.
But as happy as I was to hear that I had just earned 4 million dollars from Scream 2, I knew it was time to get back to work. I had been trapped in this bed long enough. Steven was ready to move forward with Shakespeare in Love, hoping it would be prepared for release by the end of 1998—no doubt hoping to catch the tail end of what had happened at the club before people forgot.
He wasn't the only one rushing against the clock, either. Warner Bros. was pulling double time to get Selena ready for release by early next year, rather than spring as planned. And Sony was doing the same with Jennifer's album. Where before they were perfectly happy to let Work Label do all the legwork, they were now fully hands-on. They were even going so far as to get in touch with my agent and lawyer to see if an agreement could be reached stating that Jennifer and I were now a couple.
Hearing a knock at my door, I look up from the bed and see the devil walk in with a big smile on her face.
"How is my man doing today? Feeling any better today?" Jennifer asks with a teasing smile on her face.
Yeah, needless to say, I agreed to the deal —why not? Tiff had already broken up with me before Sony came knocking, and Jennifer was all right in my books. She was about to be a big star, and using my fame to make her even bigger was just good business. Especially seeing as I had written several of her songs, I stood to earn a nice chunk of change if the album did well. That said, Jennifer wasn't really all that into me. At least, I didn't think so. From what I remember seeing, she was more into Sean Combs. She was dating a guy named Ojani, not that long ago, but broke it off when she landed her album deal. Not that I cared if she was into Sean or not. This was, after all, a business relationship, not a real one.
"What's up, Jen? Did the media see you come in?" I asked, looking up at her, making sure she was dressed to impress, and she was in a low-cut top and skintight pants.
"You know it. I even dropped some sexual hints about what I planned to do with my man while I was visiting." She says with a smile.
That was something I really liked about Jennifer. While Tiff and Salma knew how to play the game, Jennifer embraced it, giving the public what it wanted while keeping enough back to make them want more. However, I did have to warn her a few times not to take things too far with my breakup with Tiff or my past relationship with Salma. I told her they were carrying my kids after all, and the last thing I needed was any problems with the mothers of my soon-to-be children. I got a good laugh at how shocked she looked when I told her that.
"Good, good. Keep up the good work. We are approaching crunch time and need all the help we can get for your upcoming movie and album release," I say to her offhandedly as I write in my notebook.
Rolling her eyes and popping some gum in her mouth, Jen says, "Yes, Dad. I understand."
And she did; fuck her agent and the people at Work, and Sony had been reminding her non-stop since the incident at the club had happened. The press had been having a field day with her and the others because of it, which was great for their careers—especially those of Usher and Dre, who Caesar had credit with, saving his life. Dre, of course, didn't need any help at this point in his career, but it added to his already substantial legacy, and Usher was now getting a big push on his next album.
The only one who wasn't getting that push, however, was Sean, who wasn't pleased at the fact that Caesar didn't name-drop him on his now infamous interview on the Tonight Show. Everyone knew he was there after all, and now knew he did nothing during the fight or after it. Not that he could, seeing as he was on the other side of the club when the attack occurred, but that didn't matter to the public. As questions were being asked, why didn't he have Caesar's back like a real man would have? Usher and she tried to do damage control on his behalf, but no matter what they said, people did not listen. And while it wouldn't hurt his image too much, Sean was proving to be a really petty guy. Blaming and even accusing Caesar behind closed doors of trying to sabotage him. The only reason he wasn't talking shit out in the open was the not-so-subtle warning from WB and Sory to keep his fucking mouth shut.
It was enough to make Jennifer rethink her feelings about the rap star. Sean was still fun to hang around with, but his childish behavior was a huge turn-off. The fact of the matter was that he was in no position to do anything to help that night, and Caesar, being who he is, wasn't about to give credit to someone for something they did not do. You only had to know the man for a little bit to know that. That said, she really wasn't all that into Caesar, either. Maybe it was because they had become friends before they started this fake dating thing.
He was brilliant, driven, and ambitious, but he was also so average-looking. Maybe she was being vain, but she wanted someone better looking. Still, she could not deny there was something about him. When he told her he had knocked up Tiff and Salma, she wasn't all that surprised, per se. Shocked, yes, that it happened when they had a threesome together, but not surprised at the result. That was why she made sure her prescription for her birth control was filled. She may have had no plans to fuck Caesar, but she was sure that was what Tiff and Salma had told themselves on the night they got pregnant. Better to be safe than sorry later on.
Walking over to him, Jennifer takes a seat and asks, "So, what are you working on?"
"A new script," I tell her flatly while not paying her any attention.
"Oh, anything interesting?" Jennifer asks. She is a bit annoyed that he isn't paying attention to her, but she is also used to it. He did the same thing on the set of Selena, after all.
Whenever an idea popped into his head, he would grab that infamous notebook of his that he always had with him and start writing. He would sit and write or look off into space for what seemed like hours. Maybe more till he got whatever had popped into his head written down. Making it easy for people to get used to him ignoring them. This, of course, made her curious; however, like anyone would be if they heard this.
"I think so, but I'm sorry, there is no female lead for the movie," I tell her, taking a bit of pleasure at the look of dejection.
With a pout, she says, "Fine, but can you at least tell me the title right?"
"Sure, but I am still debating on that. What do you think of these?" I ask her.
Having not read what he has written yet, Jennifer has little to go on but looks at the titles and reads them. "Hmmm, well, seeing as I haven't read the script yet, I have little to go off of, but… yes, I think this one will do."
She points at one of the titles, and I look down and ask, "You sure?"
"Yes… The Sixth Sense. It just has that impact to it. Know what I mean?" Jennifer asks.
"That I do," I say with a smile. That was the title I was going to use anyway. After all, why change the name to the number-one-grossing horror movie of all time till 2017?