Alden and Maxwell walked out of the studio after getting the copy of Paranormal Activity from Nathan on a USB drive.
They both felt disappointed that things hadn't gone the way they'd expected. They'd thought they could easily deceive the foolish, inexperienced kid.
They never would've expected him to come out with those demands so abruptly, so confidently.
"Seriously, that kid even knows the difference between gross and net," Alden said, shaking his head. "You think Nathan coached him? Is that why he was so confident letting his son handle it?"
Maxwell shrugged. "I don't know. But whatever the case, it was smart as hell." He paused. "Think about it—most filmmakers get screwed on net profit deals because studios can claim almost anything as an expense. Even blockbusters end up showing 'losses' on paper. But gross? That's actual ticket sales. The kid's asking for a percentage of real money, not Hollywood accounting bullshit."
"And that 2x recoupment multiplier?" Alden added. "That stops us from inflating marketing costs to delay when he starts seeing money. The kid thought of everything."
"Yeah," Maxwell agreed. "His deal's completely in his favor. We take all the risk—marketing costs, distribution, everything—and he gets guaranteed money up front plus a cut of the real earnings. It's actually brilliant."
"Gotta agree with you there."
Alden and Maxwell knew each other well. They'd run into each other plenty of times at low-budget horror screenings over the years. It came with the territory—they both worked acquisitions for their studios' genre divisions.
They'd dealt with inexperienced filmmakers countless times, and they were usually thrilled about it. Easy pickings.
But this was the first time they'd met their match.
Marcus hadn't even given them a chance to negotiate or suggest they discuss it over coffee at the café nearby. He'd just laid out his terms and walked away.
After some more talking, Alden and Maxwell parted ways.
Alden got in his car and started the drive back to Summit Pictures headquarters. Traffic wasn't too bad, and after about forty minutes, he pulled into the lot.
He made his way inside and headed straight to his office. The first thing he did was pull out his phone and call Vincent Chen, the Vice President of Acquisitions.
"Vincent, it's Alden. You got a minute?"
"Just wrapping up a meeting. What's up?"
"I just got back from that micro-budget horror screening in NoHo. I need to show you something. Can you gather whoever's available from the acquisitions team?"
There was a pause. "That good?"
"Big potential. Low budget, high reward type of situation."
"Alright, give me twenty minutes. I'll see who I can round up."
Alden hung up and sat down at his desk, pulling up his notes from the screening. He needed to present this right—the film was gold, but those demands from the kid were going to raise eyebrows.
Twenty minutes later, his phone rang. "Conference room B. We've got four people from acquisitions."
"On my way."
Alden grabbed the USB drive and headed down the hall. When he entered the conference room, he found Vincent sitting at the head of the table with three other executives and acquisition scouts.
"Alright, Alden," Vincent said. "You said this was urgent. What've you got?"
Alden closed the door and walked to the front. "Micro-budget horror. Fifteen thousand dollars total."
That got everyone's attention. Micro-budget horror was Summit's bread and butter for the genre division. Low risk, high potential return.
"Okay," Vincent said. "So what's the catch?"
"The filmmaker—who's a sixteen-year-old high school kid—is demanding $500,000 upfront, fifteen percent of gross after we recoup twice our marketing costs, consultation rights, exec producer credit, and a guaranteed wide release of at least one hundred screens."
The room went silent.
"Are you serious?" Vincent said. "A kid is demanding half a million dollars for a fifteen-thousand-dollar student film?"
"That's what I said," Alden replied. "But here's the thing—he didn't ask for net. He specifically asked for gross. And he structured the recoupment at 2x so we can't inflate costs on him."
Vincent blinked. "How does a sixteen-year-old know to ask for that?"
"I have no idea. But he clearly knows what he's doing."
One of the other executives spoke up. "So why are we even considering this? If some kid's trying to fleece us—"
"Because the film's actually good," Alden said, pulling out the USB drive. "Really good. The kid had students from his own high school at the private screening—had to be at least thirty, forty of them, all signed NDAs. The audience reaction was insane. These students were screaming, jumping out of their seats, genuinely terrified. Even I got chills, and I've seen every horror film that's come through here in the last five years."
He set the USB on the table.
"If the movie wasn't worth it, I would've shut him down the second he made those demands and walked away. But I didn't. Because I think this has serious potential. Low budget, high reward."
Vincent leaned back in his chair, studying Alden. "You really think it's that good?"
"I think it could do very well."
Just then, the door opened. A man in his early sixties stepped in, coffee in hand, looking mildly surprised to see the meeting.
Alden immediately recognized him.
Stefan Kingswell was one of the biggest names in Hollywood—a director whose films had broken box office records and won critical acclaim. He'd worked with Summit Pictures on multiple projects over the years and had a strong relationship with the studio.
His name alone could greenlight a project.
"Oh, sorry. Didn't know this room was booked," Stefan said.
"Mr. Kingswell," Vincent said, gesturing to an empty chair. "Actually, perfect timing. We're about to screen a micro-budget horror film Alden just brought back. Want to stick around? Get your take on it?"
Stefan shrugged. "Sure, I've got some time. What's the film?"
"Student project," Alden said. "Fifteen thousand dollar budget. Made by a sixteen-year-old."
Stefan raised an eyebrow but said nothing, taking a sip of his coffee as he sat down in the corner.
Alden gestured to one of the staff members, who took the USB and connected it to the laptop. Moments later, the projector lit up, and the conference room lights dimmed.
The film began.
At first, no one had much expression. They watched clinically, analytically—looking for flaws, calculating costs, mentally drafting offers.
But as time progressed, their expressions changed.
From neutral to focused.
From focused to tense.
From tense to genuinely unsettled.
The bedroom door moving on its own. The strange sounds. The escalation each night. The possession.
By the time Katherine's character was standing over Mike for hours in the middle of the night, several people in the room had stopped taking notes. They were just watching.
Even Stefan had set his coffee down, leaning forward slightly.
The alternate endings hit them hard. The suicide ending left the room in uncomfortable silence. The jumpscare ending made two people actually flinch—including Stefan, who'd seen every horror trick in the book.
When the screen finally went black, the lights came up slowly.
No one spoke for a long moment.
Stefan broke the silence. "That was genuinely unsettling. Hard to believe a sixteen-year-old made this."
Vincent nodded slowly. "Yeah. That suicide ending especially..." He trailed off, still processing what they'd just watched.
The three endings—one original, two alternates—had each been terrifying in their own way.
Alden smiled slightly at their reactions. He'd felt the same way after his first viewing. At least he wasn't the only one rattled by it. "So, what do you guys think?"
Vincent and Stefan exchanged glances.
"I'll be honest—the film's got serious potential," Vincent said. "I had my doubts when I heard it was made by a sixteen-year-old. But after watching that?" He gestured at the now-dark screen. "I'm convinced."
"It's impressive, I'll give you that," another executive chimed in. "But those demands are still insane."
Others murmured agreement. They acknowledged the potential, but meeting the kid's terms? That was another story.
Vincent turned to Stefan. "What's your take on it?"
Stefan was quiet for a moment, considering. Then he said, "I can tell you this—that movie genuinely scared me. And I don't say that lightly." He paused. "Hell, I might not be able to sleep alone tonight."
A few people chuckled nervously, thinking he was joking.
"I'm serious," Stefan said, and the laughter died.
His endorsement shifted the entire room's energy. When a director of Stefan Kingswell's caliber called something scary, people listened.
"Who's the kid?" Vincent asked Alden.
"Marcus Crown. Nathan Crown's son."
Stefan's eyebrows shot up. "Nathan Crown? The same Nathan Crown who was making waves in the mid-2000s?"
Alden nodded.
Everyone looked surprised. They hadn't expected the filmmaker to be the son of that washed-up director.
Stefan leaned forward, genuinely interested now. "So what's he asking for?"
Alden ran through Marcus's demands again—the $500k upfront, the 15% gross after 2x recoupment, consultation rights, exec producer credit, guaranteed wide release.
Stefan let out a low whistle, then chuckled. "Five hundred grand? From a sixteen-year-old?" He shook his head, clearly amused. "Kid's got balls, I'll give him that. Those are studio executive-level demands."
"So what do you think?" Vincent asked him.
Stefan held up his hands. "Hey, I'm just here for the screening. Business side's not my department—that's on you guys." He stood, picking up his coffee. "But I will say this: that film's the real deal. Whatever you decide to do with it, good luck."
He started toward the door, then paused and turned back. "Oh, one more thing—from a director's perspective. The kid's offer mentioned you get to choose which ending for theatrical release, right?"
Vincent nodded. "That's correct."
"Go with the jumpscare ending," Stefan said firmly. "The suicide one's disturbing, sure, but the jumpscare? That's the one that'll have people screaming in theaters. That's the one they'll tell their friends about." He gave a slight smile. "Trust me on that."
With that, Stefan gave them a nod and headed out.
After he left, the room fell quiet again.
Vincent looked at Alden. "Alright. Let's talk strategy. What are we actually willing to offer?"
Alden leaned forward. "Look, the kid started high—that's negotiation 101. He's expecting us to counter." He paused. "I'd say we come in at $300k upfront and try to bring that gross percentage down to ten, maybe twelve percent. Still a great deal for a first-time filmmaker, and it gives us room to actually make money on this."
One of the executives nodded. "That sounds more reasonable."
"We also need to move fast," Alden added. "Maxwell from Worldwide was at that screening too. If we drag our feet, someone else is going to snatch this up."
Vincent drummed his fingers on the table, thinking. "Alright. Let's draft an offer. Three hundred thousand, twelve percent gross after we recoup twice our costs. We keep the consultation rights and exec producer credit—those don't cost us anything. And we'll guarantee the wide release."
He looked around the room. "Anyone have objections?"
No one spoke up.
"Good. Alden, get that offer to the kid as soon as possible. And make it clear we're serious—we want to move on this."
Alden nodded, already mentally drafting the proposal. "I'll reach out to him tomorrow morning."
---
The next morning, Marcus got a call from Alden asking to meet at the café across from his father's studio.
Marcus agreed immediately. He'd even prepared an excuse letter ahead of time to get out of school—he'd known this was coming.
Twenty minutes later, he walked into the café and spotted Alden at a corner table, already nursing a coffee.
"Marcus." Alden stood and shook his hand. "Thanks for meeting on short notice."
"No problem." Marcus slid into the seat across from him.
They ordered—Marcus got a black coffee, keeping it simple—and exchanged a bit of small talk before Alden got down to business.
"So, I showed the film to my team at Summit," Alden began. "They were impressed. Really impressed." He leaned forward slightly. "We'd like to make you an offer."
Marcus stayed quiet, waiting.
"We're prepared to offer $200,000 upfront, eight percent of the gross after we recoup our costs, plus the consultation rights and executive producer credit you asked for."
Marcus took a slow sip of his coffee, letting the silence stretch. Then he set the cup down and met Alden's eyes. "Two hundred thousand?"
Alden nodded.
Marcus smiled faintly. "I appreciate the offer, but I was thinking closer to $430,000, with the percentage terms I mentioned."
Alden barely managed to hide his flinch. 'This kid doesn't budge an inch.'
"That's... pretty steep," Alden said carefully.
Marcus shrugged. "I've got other interest. Worldwide Pictures reached out yesterday." He pulled out his phone and showed a text from Maxwell. "They're a major studio too, so I figured my terms aren't that unreasonable."
Alden's jaw tightened slightly. He'd hoped to lock this down before Maxwell made his move.
"Alright, how about this," Alden said quickly. "Three hundred thousand, eleven percent gross, and we keep everything else you asked for."
Marcus looked thoughtful, but didn't commit. "I appreciate that. Really. But I owe it to myself to at least hear what Worldwide's offering before I make any decisions."
Alden felt his stomach sink. "Marcus—"
"I'm not trying to play games here," Marcus said, his tone genuine. "I just want to make sure I'm making the right call. You understand, right?"
Alden couldn't argue with that. "Yeah. I get it."
They talked for another twenty minutes, going back and forth on smaller details, but Marcus wouldn't commit. Eventually, they shook hands and parted ways.
Later that afternoon, Marcus met Maxwell at a different café in Burbank. Maxwell made his pitch—$250,000 upfront with nine percent gross—clearly trying to lowball him even harder than Summit had.
Marcus kept his expression neutral and mentioned that Summit had already offered more. He didn't commit to anything, just thanked Maxwell for his time and said he'd consider all his options.
Over the next three days, Marcus played the two studios against each other. Each time one studio raised their offer, he'd hint to the other that they were falling behind. He strategically lowered his ask from $430k to $400k, then to $380k, making each concession seem significant while still keeping the number high.
During this time, Jefferson—the independent investor who'd attended the screening—reached out to Marcus with an interesting proposition. He was willing to invest in the film's marketing budget if Marcus retained some control over distribution. It gave Marcus another card to play.
Alden and Maxwell both kept calling, incrementally raising their offers, each trying to outbid the other without going too high.
By the third day, Alden called him with what sounded like a final offer.
"Alright, Marcus. We're prepared to go $370,000 upfront, thirteen percent of the gross after we recoup twice our costs, consultation rights, executive producer credit, and guaranteed wide release—one hundred screens minimum opening weekend. That's our best and final."
He paused. "And I know Jefferson talked to you about marketing investment, but going indie means a fragmented release. We handle everything in-house—clean, professional, wide reach. That's worth more in the long run."
Marcus let the silence hang for a moment, considering. Alden had a point.
Then he smiled. "You've got a deal."
"Seriously?" Alden sounded almost surprised.
"Yeah. Let's do it."
"Great. I'll have our legal team draft the contracts. We'll get this moving immediately."
When Marcus hung up, he just sat there for a moment, staring at his phone.
$370,000.
For a $15,000 movie.
It was hard to believe he'd actually managed to play two major studios against each other and come out on top.
He'd negotiated down from his opening ask strategically, making them think they'd won concessions, while still landing nearly $400k and maintaining his key terms.
What Marcus didn't know was that the deal had been pushed through largely because of Stefan Kingswell's reaction to the film.
When a director of Stefan's caliber said a movie genuinely scared him and recommended it for theatrical release, Summit's executives had taken it seriously. That endorsement had been the tipping point.
If Marcus had known, he probably would've recognized the parallel to his previous life—where a famous director had similarly championed the original Paranormal Activity, helping it get the distribution deal that turned it into a phenomenon.
But he didn't know. And for now, he was just enjoying the win.
---
When Nathan found out about the deal later that evening, his reaction was priceless.
"Three hundred and seventy thousand dollars!?" Nathan's voice cracked. "For that movie?"
Marcus grinned. "Yep."
Nathan stared at him, then at the ceiling, then back at him. "I've been making films for years and I've never—" He stopped himself, punching the air in frustration. "God, I'm so jealous I could punch a wall."
Marcus couldn't resist. "Remember when I said my movie would earn more than yours? This is it, Dad. This is just the beginning."
Nathan shot him a look. "Don't get cocky, kid. My best film earned seventy million at the box office. You've got a long way to go before you can talk that kind of trash."
"We'll see," Marcus said with a smirk.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Nathan went to answer it and came back with Jefferson.
"Jefferson!" Nathan clasped his friend's hand. "What brings you by?"
"Heard the news. Had to come see it for myself." Jefferson looked at Marcus. "Closed with Summit, huh? Three hundred seventy grand?"
Marcus nodded.
Jefferson let out a low whistle and dropped into a chair. "I was gonna pitch in for marketing, you know. Thought maybe I could get a piece of this before the big boys swooped in." He shook his head with a rueful smile. "But once I saw Summit and Worldwide going at it? I knew I didn't have a shot. Can't compete with that kind of money."
"Sorry, Jeff," Nathan said, grabbing them both beers from the fridge.
"Don't be. That's just how it goes." Jefferson took the beer and looked at Marcus. "You played that really smart, kid. Most first-timers panic and take the first offer."
Nathan took a long drink. "Yeah, well, apparently my son's a natural at this business thing. Better than his old man, anyway."
"Oh, come on—" Jefferson started.
"No, he's right," Marcus cut in with a grin. "I mean, I'm already ahead of him in earnings per film."
Jefferson nearly choked on his beer, laughing.
Nathan pointed at Marcus. "You little—"
"What?" Marcus held up his hands innocently. "I'm just stating facts."
Jefferson was enjoying this. "Nathan, you gonna let him talk to you like that?"
"The kid made three hundred seventy grand on his first film," Nathan said, exasperated. "What am I supposed to say? He's not wrong."
"Doesn't mean he gets to rub it in," Jefferson said, still grinning. He turned to Marcus. "But seriously—good job. Next time you've got a project, maybe call me before the majors hear about it."
"Will do."
Jefferson stood and finished his beer. "Alright, I'll leave you two alone. Nathan, try not to strangle your kid before he makes his second movie, yeah?"
"No promises," Nathan muttered.
Jefferson gave them both a wave and headed out, still chuckling as he closed the door behind him.