Any branch line in the DC cinematic universe, so long as it could someday reach even half the box office of Batman: Begins, would be enough to prop up the performance of a major studio. That was precisely why senior executives from both Daenerys Entertainment and the Time Warner Group had personally stepped in to lock down the casting for these projects.
And likewise, because these roles represented a one-step leap into the stratosphere for countless actors, all of Hollywood, whether the hopeful performers waiting with bated breath or the agencies behind them, was watching every scrap of information that leaked out of Daenerys Studios.
Once word got out that the male and female leads for The Flash had been finalized, the joy of the people involved was one thing. The bigger story was that, in an instant, innumerable eyes inside and outside Hollywood snapped onto Jason Jedrick and Robin Wright. Two young people barely twenty-four or twenty-five, and within a few hours, they had become the center of Hollywood's attention.
Daenerys Entertainment and the Time Warner Group allowed actors who signed long-term DC universe contracts to take on other film projects. The restrictions were strict, but before the DC universe team had even officially contacted the two of them to sign, a string of offers had already been shoved toward their agencies, studios trying to snatch up any open windows in their schedules outside DC.
The leads were settled in the morning. By the afternoon, the project's key supporting cast was being locked in one after another.
They couldn't compare to the leads, of course, but they still drew a flood of attention.
Truth be told, the DC universe casting process was very different from Hollywood tradition.
In the traditional model, a film is built piece by piece, endless meetings and negotiations, slowly assembling the team. But with DC universe projects, the initiative was entirely in the producers' hands, because the franchise had no need to chase any A-list star. Batman, Superman, the Flash, these superheroes were already household-name "stars" in their own right.
So once casting began, any actor who wanted a role had to sign a letter of intent as long as they made it past the initial selection. The terms covered acceptance of the long-term DC contract, the pay structure, likeness rights, and so on. If you couldn't accept that, then there was no point wasting each other's time.
That process also meant that once an actor was chosen, the official contract could be signed quickly, no endless haggling over fine print. If anyone tried to change their mind at the last second and jack up their price after being selected, they wouldn't just be replaced immediately, they'd be staring down a massive claim for damages.
With The Flash's main cast confirmed, the rest, contracts, scheduling, physical training, performance prep, would naturally be handed off to the team responsible.
Simon saw Terry Semel and the others out. He had just returned to his own office in the administrative wing when his assistant followed him in and told him James Rebould had called earlier and said it was something important.
Instead of going behind his desk to the leather chair, Simon sat on the edge of the table opposite and lifted the receiver, gesturing for her to dial.
Jennifer smoothly punched in a string of numbers. She'd only just finished when a hand slid in from the side and hooked around her. She struggled with a mix of annoyance and laughter, half scolding and half swatting, but when she realized Simon had already started speaking to the person on the other end, her father, she could only give up. Then that hand released her again.
Smiling as he watched her ears turn red while she pretended to straighten the desk for him, Simon exchanged a few pleasantries, only for his expression to gradually tighten.
It was about the twenty percent stake in ESPN Robert Iger had mentioned at the party last Saturday.
After returning to New York, Robert Iger had quickly pulled together a rough dossier and sent it to Simon.
ESPN had been founded eleven years earlier. It now had more than fifty-seven million subscribers, annual revenue of five hundred million dollars, and last year's net profit was fifty-one million dollars.
At first, Simon had been curious why the Metropolis/ABC Group wasn't buying back the twenty percent stake themselves. Because of the majority shareholder's veto rights, Metropolis/ABC had an advantage in acquiring that equity over any other buyer. And with the success of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, their financial situation in recent years was strong enough that paying for it wouldn't be a problem.
Robert Iger's materials explained why.
Metropolis/ABC's conservative chairman, Tom Murphy, and the majority shareholder, Warren Buffett, both refused to pay what they considered too high a price for that stake. A valuation of two hundred million dollars for twenty percent worked out to nearly twenty times earnings. To those two old men, it was simply too expensive. They were only willing to offer a multiple of ten.
On top of that, ESPN had just signed a huge broadcast deal with Major League Baseball, four years for four hundred million dollars. ESPN's annual revenue was only five hundred million, and that contract meant a sudden extra one hundred million dollars a year in content costs, risk ESPN would be carrying squarely on its shoulders.
If that aggressive, high-stakes agreement failed, ESPN, once growing well, could very well pivot into decline.
Since Metropolis/ABC didn't want to buy the stake, Simon had assumed it would be his for the taking. He'd simply handed it to James to handle.
He hadn't expected the situation to twist again.
James told Simon over the phone that the acquisition had been going smoothly. He'd spoken with Tom Murphy, and Murphy had been happy for Westeros Corporation to buy the shares. Then James had approached Reynolds Nabisco, and their response had been very positive as well.
However, just this morning, Tom Murphy had suddenly called James again and said Metropolis/ABC likely wouldn't be able to accept Westeros taking a stake in ESPN after all. The reason he gave was that another Metropolis/ABC partner was interested in the shares.
Pressed for specifics, Murphy finally revealed that it was the Hearst family, who had been eager to push into the cable television industry for several years, who wanted to buy ESPN's twenty percent stake.
The Hearst family was a super media dynasty, as deeply rooted in the United States as the Newhouse family.
This year, no Hearst family member appeared in the top ten of Forbes's list of the 400 richest Americans. Only the Newhouse brothers held two seats there. But in reality, the Hearsts' wealth was roughly on par with the Newhouses'. The difference was that the first-generation founder, William Hearst, had six children. After multiple inheritances, the family's equity had become overly fragmented.
The Hearst family's rise had spanned a full century. Back then, William Hearst had used the nationwide media network of the Hearst Corporation to directly whip up public fervor for America's war against Spain. It remained widely condemned to this day, but it was a stark demonstration of how much influence the Hearst family wielded over American news and public opinion.
Today, the Hearst family had gradually transitioned into third-generation leadership. Even so, this media dynasty still shaped the direction of American discourse through hundreds of newspapers, weeklies, and magazines spread across major cities in North America. The immensely influential San Francisco Chronicle on the West Coast was one of the Hearst Group's properties.
Simon's personal fortune might already be several times that of the Hearst family, but to a media dynasty so entrenched it had once been able to stir a nation into war, James felt it was best not to pick a fight.
James had planned to dig for more details before bringing it up to Simon, but this afternoon, the Hearsts' third-generation heir, William Randolph Hearst III, reached out directly, extending Simon an invitation to a Hearst family party tomorrow night.
As for the purpose, it could not have been more obvious.
After more than twenty minutes on the phone with James, and with his assistant already gone, Simon set the receiver down and leaned back against the edge of his desk, thinking.
During those days in New York at the start of the month, Janet had told him that if possible, it was best to cultivate good relations with American media dynasties like the Newhouses and the Hearsts. These families controlled the levers of public opinion. If Westeros could build ties with them, it would be a tremendous boon for the growth of the entire Westeros system.
The problem was, for a newly risen tycoon like Simon, breaking into those old circles wasn't easy. America had no aristocracy, but the aristocratic mentality of its old families was, in some ways, even more severe than Europe's.
And Simon had his pride. If he wasn't welcome, he wouldn't lower himself to force his way in.
Still, an unexpected opportunity had appeared.
Hearst, Newhouse, and families like the Grahams who controlled the Washington Post group, perhaps they still held the reins of American public opinion. But Simon knew very well that with the arrival of the internet era, these old media dynasties would gradually decline.
After the new century began, many famous newspapers and magazines, century-old names that seemed utterly untouchable today, such as the Washington Post, the Los Angeles Times, Time, and others, would eventually be sold off at near fire-sale prices to a wave of newly minted billionaires, simply so the publications could keep surviving.
Simon carefully sifted through his memories and soon found a key piece of information.
After America's print media industry declined, the Hearst family's twenty percent stake in ESPN would account for more than half of the Hearst Group's annual profits.
Once the acquisition of MCA was complete, so long as the timing was right, Simon's next target would be the Metropolis/ABC Group, the owner of the ABC network and ESPN.
If he let the Hearsts take ESPN's twenty percent stake now, then a few years down the line, as ESPN surged and print media withered, the Hearst family, dangerously dependent on that equity, would likely become an appendage of the Westeros system.
A vast media network made up of hundreds of newspapers, weeklies, and magazines, even if only a small portion remained in the future, it would still be a force no one could afford to ignore.
Jennifer knocked and came in again, a few folders in her arms. Noticing the faint smile at the corner of Simon's mouth, she asked, "What did my dad say to you?"
Simon gave her the gist of the call. Of course, he didn't mention anything that hadn't happened yet.
After hearing it, his assistant frowned slightly. "If that's the case, we should probably just let the stake go. Clashing with the Hearst family would be a nightmare."
Simon nodded, then said, "But the Hearsts can't just toss me a party invitation and expect me to bow out. They should offer something in return."
Jennifer thought for a moment. "The San Francisco Chronicle happens to be theirs. Maybe this time we can trade for a content partnership agreement between the Ygritte portal and the San Francisco Chronicle."
YgrittePortal had already partnered with Murdoch's News Corporation, but Murdoch was only willing to provide European and Australian coverage.
In North America, on one hand News Corp's media muscle wasn't quite that strong yet. On the other hand, it might simply have been old Murdoch's instinctive wariness. YgrittePortal hadn't been able to secure content support from News Corp platforms like the New York Post.
Right now, YgrittePortal's North American news mostly came through a partnership with a small local San Francisco paper, and the quality was hard to be satisfied with. If they could get news content from the San Francisco Chronicle, headquartered right there in San Francisco, it would be far better.
"That's a very good idea." Simon nodded, then reached out and pulled his assistant closer, smiling. "But for now, let's think about where we're spending the night."
Held in Simon's arms, Jennifer tilted her face and rubbed it lightly against his slightly prickly chin. "Janet's been pretty unhappy on the phone lately," she said. "She said she's bringing back a bottle of red wine mixed with pepper water."
Simon laughed. "Then don't drink it."
Jennifer nodded solemnly, then added with a faintly wicked little edge, "She said it's for you."
Janet had gone to Europe last week and successfully secured Château Latour for one hundred and twenty million dollars. After that she attended this year's autumn fashion week in Milan, planning to return to North America tomorrow. That Boeing 767 had already flown to Europe in the morning to pick them up.
That night, Simon could only take Daenerys Entertainment's Falcon business jet and head to San Francisco with Jennifer to stay over. The next morning he dropped her back in Los Angeles, then continued on the Falcon to the East Coast.
Everything was already arranged.
Around four in the afternoon, East Coast time, Simon arrived in New York. He waited less than half an hour at JFK before the Boeing 767 carrying Janet's group touched down on the runway.
This time, it wasn't just Janet returning. Sophia Fache would be coming as well, and she was bringing family, her parents, and her two children.
In their phone call a few days earlier, Sophia had said she wanted the kids to attend school in the United States going forward, and she planned to leave her parents there to accompany them.
Simon hadn't met Sophia's children yet, but he knew she'd previously enrolled them in a private school in Geneva, Switzerland.
Switzerland's strength in private schooling was well known, and studying there came with little language barrier. For Sophia to suddenly send her children to North America, Simon suspected there was more to it, perhaps her ex-husband was trying to take the kids back again.
But since Sophia hadn't said so directly, Simon didn't pry too deeply.
On the tarmac at JFK, Janet stepped out of the cabin. The moment she saw Simon, she broke into a light run down the stairs and flung herself into his arms like a bird returning to its nest. Only when the crisp click-click of high heels sounded behind her did she finally bite gently at Simon's lips, and then let him go.
Simon had already seen Sophia's group as well.
Sophia Fache wore a white office suit, poised and radiant as ever. She held a child's hand on either side. The boy was a little older, about ten, and looked shy. The girl, seven or eight, had bright blue eyes and stared at Simon without the slightest fear.
Behind Sophia were a graying couple. When Simon looked their way, they nodded in greeting, a bit stiff and restrained.
With Sophia's parents present, Simon had originally intended to just shake her hand as a greeting. But Sophia released both children, stepped forward with graceful composure, and hugged Simon briefly before introducing her family.
The boy was Daniel Fache, ten years old. The girl was Gemma Fache, seven.
When she introduced her parents, however, the senior executive didn't seem nearly as warm.
Even though it was their first meeting, Simon could sense that the couple indulged their daughter in everything. Still, while Sophia had brought them to America to help watch the children, the distance between her and her parents was unmistakable.