Crown Of Dreams

November 30, 1992 - Universal Studios, Stage 28 11:45 PM PST

"That's a wrap!"

Spielberg's voice echoed across the cavernous soundstage as exhausted cheers erupted. Jake Morris stood amid the controlled chaos, adrenaline still humming through his veins after nailing Ethan's final scene. Ten impossible days of shooting had somehow worked – they'd rewritten cinema history without anyone realizing it.

Through the artificial fog and towering sets, Jake's Bloomberg terminal watch displayed Aladdin's latest numbers: $55 million in just twelve days of limited release. The movie was already shattering expectations, its trajectory aimed at that billion-dollar target that existed only in his future memories.

A Father's Concern

"Hawaii?" Eddie Morris's voice came through Jake's Nokia, steady but filled with a hint of concern. Jake could hear the faint hum of activity in the background, likely from his father's office or a boardroom. "Son, your birthday is coming up. You're turning 19 in less than a month, and instead of celebrating, you're jetting off to some beach? What's going on?"

Jake glanced out the window as the jet climbed higher into the night sky, the lights of Los Angeles fading into the distance. For a moment, he stayed silent, letting the tension in his shoulders melt away. The weight he'd been carrying for the past year—the studio's debts, the relentless production schedules, the constant negotiations—felt heavier than ever.

"Dad," Jake finally said, his voice calm, "this isn't just about a vacation. I need this. I've been running nonstop since I got here—fixing things, putting out fires, making sure Crown Studio isn't just another casualty in Hollywood's history. I'm tired. Ten days in Hawaii isn't going to ruin our momentum."

Eddie let out a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. "I know you've been pushing yourself, Jake. I see it every time we talk. You've done more this year than most people do in a decade. But… you're still a kid. You're supposed to be figuring out who you are, not carrying the weight of a studio on your back."

Jake leaned back in his seat, the faint hum of the plane filling the silence between them. "It's not just about the studio, Dad," he admitted. "It's about me. I've been so focused on proving I can handle all of this that I haven't had a second to think about anything else."

Eddie's voice softened, the fatherly concern Jake rarely heard breaking through. "Son, you've got the rest of your life to prove yourself. You've done more than anyone could've expected already. But if you burn yourself out now, what's the point? Hawaii sounds like a good idea. Relax. Recharge. And when you get back, we'll tackle the next challenge together."

Jake smiled faintly. "Thanks, Dad. I needed to hear that."

"Just do me a favor," Eddie added, his tone lightening. "Don't spend the whole trip on your phone planning your next move. Let yourself enjoy it."

"Deal," Jake said with a laugh.

As the plane leveled out, Jake closed his eyes, letting the stress of the past few months fade away. Hawaii wasn't just a destination—it was a chance to pause, to breathe, and to remind himself of why he was doing all of this.

For once, he allowed himself to look forward to the next ten days. And in the back of his mind, he promised himself that when he returned, he'd face the next chapter with renewed energy. But for now, it was time to just be Jake—a kid (50-year-old soul, born in 1974, from 2024) on the cusp of adulthood, with the world waiting at his feet.

December 15, 1992 - Halekulani Hotel, Waikiki Private Suite

Paradise painted itself in gold and azure as Jake reviewed the morning reports. Aladdin had just crossed $250 million globally, breaking records in markets nobody expected. Asian audiences were flooding theaters for repeat viewings. European critics called it a renaissance of American animation.

"The numbers are insane," Michael Eisner's voice carried pure joy through the secure line. "We're tracking toward $400 million by New Year's. Whatever you did with that voice performance... it's magic."

Jake smiled, watching surfers dance across perfect waves. If they only knew.

January 20, 1993 - Tokyo Toho Studios Executive Offices

Snow fell on neon dreams as Jake bowed perfectly to Toho's board. Behind him, screens displayed Aladdin's Japanese box office: $450 million global and climbing. His flawless Japanese – another system gift – transformed skepticism into fascination.

"Crown Studios understands entertainment's future is borderless," Jake explained. "East and West, animation and live-action... the old barriers are falling."

Later, bullet trains painted light streaks across Tokyo's winter night. His Nokia buzzed with Spielberg's number – Jurassic Park rough cuts were exceeding expectations. Ethan Reyes was testing through the roof with preview audiences.

The system chimed: [PLAYING ON MULTIPLE BOARDS NOW. DON'T GET COCKY.]

March 15, 1993 - Broadway, New York Shubert Theatre, After Hours

Stage lights cast dramatic shadows as Jake walked the empty theater. Aladdin had just passed $750 million worldwide. The impossible billion-dollar target didn't seem so impossible anymore.

"You've changed the game," Gerald Schoenfeld, Broadway's legendary chairman, mused from the orchestra pit. "Animation reaching adult audiences, crossing cultural barriers... it's unprecedented."

"The future is hybrid," Jake replied, voice carrying to the balcony. "Movies, theater, live performance... they're all connected. The old rules don't apply anymore."

May 12, 1993 - Beverly Hills Peninsula Hotel The Belvedere Room

Crystal chandeliers witnessed history as Michael Eisner raised his glass. "$960 million and still climbing. Aladdin isn't just a movie anymore – it's a revolution."

Jake studied the room's power players. Eddie Morris beaming with pride. Jeffrey Katzenberg mapping sequel possibilities. And at the far end, Harvey Weinstein – the spider watching his web unravel.

Tomorrow would bring new challenges:

Jurassic Park's June release looming Crown Studios' global expansion accelerating Broadway ventures taking shape And somewhere in the shadows, new players plotting their moves

The system's text glowed: [IMPRESSIVE. BUT THE REAL GAME'S JUST BEGINNING.]

Jake sipped '82 Petrus, remembering late nights in another timeline when such luxury seemed impossible. Now here he sat, reshaping entertainment's future over dinner.

"How do you do it?" Harvey's voice carried barely concealed rage. "First voice acting, then Jurassic Park, now global markets... what's your secret?"

Jake smiled, watching Los Angeles glitter below like scattered dreams.

"Evolution, Harvey. Pure evolution."

The night spilled neon promises across Beverly Hills as Jake's Porsche carved through empty streets. His Bloomberg terminal counted Aladdin's unstoppable rise: $960 million and accelerating. Not just a hit anymore – a phenomenon that was rewriting Hollywood's laws of physics.

In his ear, Tokyo deal-makers whispered about Crown Studios' Asian expansion. On his Nokia's screen, Broadway producers pitched theatrical ventures that would bridge oceans. The game board kept growing, pieces multiplying like frames of celluloid through a projector.

The system flickered: [PHASE ONE NEARLY COMPLETE. READY FOR THE REAL SHOW?]

Jake's mansion emerged from darkness, its modernist angles cutting against starlight. Inside, tomorrow's empire spread across his private office in architectural drawings and contract drafts. Crown Studios wasn't just changing the industry – it was becoming something entirely new.

"You're sure about this?" Eddie's voice carried through the speakerphone, reviewing their latest moves. "Taking on Harvey, expanding globally, all while Jurassic Park's about to launch?"

Through floor-to-ceiling windows, Los Angeles sparkled like a sea of possibilities. Six months ago, he'd been Hollywood's prettiest joke. Now? Now he was its most dangerous player.

"Times are changing, Dad." Jake studied Variety's early headline for tomorrow: "ALADDIN APPROACHES BILLION-DOLLAR MIRACLE." "The old power structure, the old rules... they're evolving. Either ride the wave or drown in it."

His Nokia lit up – Spielberg calling about Jurassic Park's final cut. Universal's marketing team was having conniptions trying to keep Ethan Reyes under wraps. The internet – still in its infancy – was already buzzing with leaked hints about the character who would change everything.

The system's text glowed: [INCOMING TASK PARAMETERS...]

But Jake was already moving, mind racing through possibilities like a chess computer calculating endgames. Crown Studios' next phase would reshape more than just Hollywood – it would transform entertainment itself.

Tomorrow would bring fresh battles:

Miramax's board meeting to discuss Disney's "offer" Final marketing pushes for Jurassic Park Secret negotiations with Asian media giants Broadway deals that would bridge continents

The game wasn't just changing anymore. It was becoming something else entirely. Something even the system might not have predicted.

Jake's reflection caught his eye – still that perfect face that had launched magazine covers, but now carrying something more. Something that made even Hollywood's apex predators nervous.

The future wasn't just coming.

It was already here.