Dreams of Stardom (Hollywood SI)

Troy Armitage Creates History! Matches Walt Disney's Record of Oscar Wins

Troy Armitage, the boy who needs no introduction, has created history once again. At the tender age of 11, Troy became the youngest male ever to win an Oscar, but now, at 17, the young man has stepped into the big leagues by winning three more Oscars in one night in the categories of Best Original Song, Best Original Score, and Best Picture (the former two for [Echoes of You] and the latter for [The Perks of Being a Wallflower]).

With these three Oscars, Troy now has four, all in different categories, tying him with Walt Disney as the person with the most wins in different categories. Walt Disney still holds the record for the most competitive Oscars—a staggering 22 awards, which he won in four different categories. Until recently, it seemed an impossible goal to surpass, but if anyone can do it, it will be none other than Troy Armitage, who has already become a legend at such a young age.

He will next be seen in [Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix] later this year. Up until now, most of Troy's films have been released by Warner Bros., but recently, inside sources at Paramount have revealed news about an exclusive three-picture deal Troy's production house has signed with them, starting with [Little Miss Sunshine]. The film, which impressed everyone at the Berlin Film Festival with its heartwarming story and characters, is also expected to release this year.

The article went on to elaborate on my performance at the Oscars and people's reactions to it, but it felt like I was reading a puff piece written by my PR manager. I put down the newspaper on the coffee table in front of me and looked up at Dad. "This headline is very misleading."

Dad nodded in agreement. "True. I guess that's how they sell news nowadays. But the information inside isn't so bad."

"Does it really matter?" I asked.

"If you'd read further, you'd know that this year's Oscars were a big success, with 53.65 million viewers," Dad noted idly. "Do you know this is the second-best rating the show has ever received in its history? The best was in 1998, during the [Titanic] year. And as per the Nielsen data mentioned in the paper, there was a huge spike in viewers during your performance."

I shrugged noncommittally, not knowing what to say about that. Then there was the little fact that I knew a rebuke was coming my way sooner or later.

"Though you could have handled the after-party a little more tactfully," Dad said, disappointed. "It's one thing to ignore Barry passively; it's entirely another to skip Warner's post-Oscar party and instead decide to go to Paramount."

Every year after the Oscars, all the major studios organize extravagant parties to celebrate their annual wins. Although Paramount didn't have any wins this year—especially compared to Warner, who had enjoyed its best awards season in quite some time, thanks to me—I still made a calculated decision to attend theirs. While I intended to finish the [Harry Potter] series, I had no plans to work with Warner in the near future if I could help it.

"Warner's usefulness has ended," I said defensively. "We all know, including Warner themselves, that we won't make any future films with them. Why try to save a sinking ship when a perfectly good alternative called Paramount is right there in the same water?"

Dad was silent for a few moments, taking in my appearance with a contemplative look before saying, "People are talking, you know. Until now, your tiff with Warner was known only to Barry and Alan, but now the upper management has also noticed it."

"Upper management?" I asked curiously.

"Time Warner," Dad said succinctly.

"Ah," I said in understanding. "Makes sense."

Warner Bros. Pictures was a subsidiary of Time Warner, which operated under entirely different management. Time Warner's leadership obviously outranked Warner Bros.' management. The parent company was a behemoth, overseeing subsidiaries like HBO, Time Magazine, Cartoon Network, CNN, TNT, and more. My issue was solely with WB for now.

"Of course it does," Dad continued. "Dick Parsons, the CEO of Time Warner, personally accosted me and asked about your absence."

"Please tell me you made some excuse for it."

"I tried to," Dad said, "but he saw right through it. True to his name, he's a dick who won't even pretend to act politely. He called me out on it."

I leaned back against the couch, raising an eyebrow. "What exactly do you want to say with this? You wouldn't have even mentioned it if it was just a conversation."

"Dick wants to meet you personally," Dad finally said. "He didn't get anything concrete from me. I told him clearly that your matters were your own, and I didn't dictate them. Since you weren't at the party, he plans to fly here to London to have an in-person meeting in a few days. I'd guess he wants to know why you left Warner behind and signed that three-picture deal with Paramount."

That news had been circulating in the media for a few days, and anyone with even a basic understanding of Hollywood's inner workings could easily deduce that something was amiss between Warner and me. So, it made sense that the CEO of Time Warner would want to understand why Warner Bros. would let go of the actor/producer who had collectively grossed over $1.1 billion in a year with three non-franchise films.

"Do I have to meet him?" I asked.

"If we decline him a meeting, he could show up on set. After all, he controls Time Warner."

"Ugh," I groaned. "Fine. Let him come then."

Dad nodded before steering the conversation elsewhere. "So, I've been thinking about your next career step after [Harry Potter]. Have you planned anything?"

"Not really," I admitted. "Mum wants me to take a few months off and do something fun. Maybe that's what I'll do."

Dad gave me a skeptical look before saying, "I've noticed you've been getting very close to Rihanna. Are you planning that vacation with her? Because if you are, you can't go. It'll create an unnecessary scandal because of your age. If you have to go, wait until you're 18."

"Not until now," I replied evasively. "I was thinking of a family trip. I miss those days we'd spend on that remote island, away from everything."

"That sounds like a plan," Dad said with a smile, clearly dropping the Rihanna topic.

I hadn't told my family yet about the changed status of Rihanna and me because even I wasn't sure where we stood. She had suggested such an unconventional idea for a relationship that most girls with a shred of self-respect wouldn't even entertain. In the moment, I'd agreed, but after some reflection, I realized it wasn't for me. If I committed to someone, I wanted it to be fully.

Still, I didn't want to have that conversation over the phone. We hadn't talked much during or after the Oscars. I had flown in on the day of the ceremony and left the next morning. With my family around, we'd had no real time alone. Until I could clear the air face-to-face, I didn't want to define our relationship.

"But you still must have considered some film offers?" Dad steered the topic back to my career. "Because seriously, I'm tired of film studios sending me offers, some of which are literally saying that you can have as much money as you want for being the lead of their next film. The highest offer I saw on the table was an upfront $25 million, which is not a small amount. You should strike when the iron is hot and take full advantage of this opportunity. Even if you want to take a break after [Harry Potter], you must decide your next film in advance because it takes time to get it ready for filming."

"My study is full of at least a hundred scripts," I said matter-of-factly. "I'll set Tobias to reading them to find the good ones from the bad, and then decide about it."

"Alright," Dad agreed.

For now, though, my focus was on finishing [Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince], so I could finally take a year or two off from the Wizarding World.

(Break)

"If only we had a bit of luck," I whispered dejectedly.

"Luck!" Jamie said excitedly, as if he had just solved a puzzle. "That's exactly what we need, Harry. Felix Felicis."

"You're a genius, Ron," Emma beamed before turning to me expectantly.

I was hesitant to agree with Jamie's suggestion immediately. "I was kind of saving Felix Felicis for something else," I said evasively.

"And what, pray tell, is more important than getting that memory from Slughorn?" Jamie asked pointedly.

Just then, Imogen Poots as Ginny walked past, hand in hand with Alfred Enoch, who played Dean Thomas. My gaze followed their interlocked hands as they moved toward the exit of the common room, but neither Ron nor Hermione seemed to notice. Shaking my head quickly, I nodded.

"You're right, of course. That's most important."

In the next scene, I lifted the small vial containing the clear liquid and drank it all in one go. I looked across the room where Emma and Jamie were sitting and smiled.

"Wow. I feel excellent," I said happily. "I've never felt this good before."

Emma looked at me dubiously before nodding. "Good. Now remember, Slughorn is usually in his office at this time."

"Right," I nodded in agreement. "I'm going down to Hagrid's."

"No, Harry!" Emma groaned. "We have a plan, remember?"

"I know, but I've got a feeling about going to Hagrid's. Like it's the place to be tonight. You know what I mean?"

"No," Emma and Jamie said in unison.

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing—or at least Felix does." With that, I pulled out my invisibility cloak and donned it in one smooth motion.

As I moved forward, I passed between Imogen and Alfred, who were an item in this part of the story.

"Don't push me, Dean!" Ginny turned to the only person beside her. "You're always doing that."

"Oh yeah? If you used your button-like eyes carefully, you'd know I didn't push you."

Imogen's eyes widened at that before she fired something furious back at her on-screen boyfriend.

I exited the room happily, confident that the potion had an unintended side effect of solving another of my problems. Walking out of that particular set, I continued until I reached the one where I was supposed to be, guided by the potion I had ingested. Somehow knowing that I couldn't be hidden for this part of the story, I removed my cloak.

"Hi, sir!" I chirped happily to the aging man who appeared to be working on a magical plant. The plant, which was moving through advanced animatronics, looked quite lifelike.

"Merlin's beard!" Jim Broadbent, the seasoned actor playing Professor Horace Slughorn, jumped nearly a foot in the air. "You scared me, Harry!"

"Sorry, sir," I grinned at him easily, "You probably thought I was Professor Sprout."

"Yes, I did, actually," he chuckled.

After hearing some fictional facts about the leaves that the older man was stealing, I turned around. "Anyway, I'll be on my way to see my dear friend Hagrid."

He stared at me in shock for a few seconds before saying, "Harry!"

"Sir!" I mimicked his tone.

"I can't let you go alone in times like these."

"Then by all means, sir, come along," I said as if it were the most obvious solution.

"Cut!" Rian Johnson called out excitedly. "That was perfect, Troy, Jim. Let me review the footage, and I'll get back to you."

I nodded at him before turning to my fellow actor. "You, sir, are very good at your job."

"Thank you," he nodded back graciously. "You were pretty good yourself. Your comic timing is impeccable. I daresay, you should try your hand at comedy."

"I intend to," I replied earnestly. "Pure comedy and horror are two genres I've wanted to try for a long time."

"That scene was perfect!" Rian called out, interrupting our conversation. "It's already late enough; let's shoot the next scene tomorrow."

The next scene was a stark contrast to the last. It required me to abandon all humor and delve into a more serious tone as Harry confronted Slughorn. So in a way it was better we were shooting it the next day because by then I would be ready for a more serious scene.

(Break)

"I don't suppose you remember it, Harry? That night?" Slughorn said with slurred words, having drunk quite a bit with Hagrid.

I took a deep breath to steel my nerves before beginning my story.

"I didn't," I confessed. "But over the years, I've put that night together almost entirely."

Slughorn kept staring at me, his expression shifting between fascinated horror and sadness as I continued.

"He killed my father first," I said, my voice heavy with emotion. "And then he stepped over his body to reach my mother and me. He wanted to show my mother he could be merciful, asked her to step aside so he could kill me. But she didn't. She couldn't let her son die at the hands of a madman. She stayed brave, resilient, steadfast—something that led to her death at the hands of Voldemort."

"Don't say his name," Slughorn interrupted, his voice a sharp whisper.

"I'm not afraid of a name," I replied, rising from my seat and walking closer to him. "If you've read the Prophet recently, you must have seen the rumors about me being the Chosen One. Well, they're not just rumors, sir. I've been destined to face him ever since I was a baby. That's why he wanted to kill me even then."

Slughorn's face drained of color, the full weight of my words crashing down on him. "But that means…"

"Yes," I said, stepping closer and placing both hands firmly on his shoulders. "If you valued my mother as much as you claim, the least you can do is help her son with the information he needs. Information only you have—but refuse to give."

"It'll ruin me," he whispered, his voice trembling with fear.

"You're afraid he'll find out you helped me," I stated, my tone calm yet resolute. When Slughorn looked away, avoiding my gaze, I tightened my grip on his shoulders, forcing him to face me.

"Be brave like my mother, Professor."

He kept staring at me for a few more seconds before slowly taking out his wand from his robes. I stepped back, giving him the time he needed as he extracted the silvery, ethereal memory from his temple. His hands wobbled as he tried to place it into an empty vial, but I reached out, holding the vial steady to give him some support.

"I'm ashamed of this memory," Slughorn said, his voice tinged with regret, a lost look in his eyes as I took the vial from him. "Don't think too badly of me when you've seen it."

"Cut!" Rian Johnson's voice rang out. "That was perfect—Jim, Robbie, Troy, great work. Let's me just review the footage before we move on."

As Rian turned his attention to screen replaying the scene, Robbie Coltrane, who had been passed out drunk as Hagrid for most of the scene, suddenly sat up with a jovial grin. I had almost forgotten he was even there, given his minimal lines in this part.

"Goddamn," Robbie said with a laugh. "What the fuck were you two smoking? Because that was some of the finest acting I've seen in quite a while."

"Thanks, Robbie," I replied with a smile, though inwardly, I didn't quite agree with him. By now, I'd done so many scenes more challenging than this one. Mild drama came easily to me at this point, and even intense dramatic scenes with lots of crying and pouring your heart out for the world to see were also manageable with some preparation. But I had done all of that already. That's exactly why I wanted to push myself into different genres—to see just how far I could stretch my range.

"Troy," a voice interrupted my thoughts. Josh, the first assistant director, came jogging up to me, looking unusually anxious.

"There's someone here to meet you," he said, a nervous edge to his tone. "He says that he's from Warner's management. I haven't seen him before, but he had the clearance to come here, so he would be legit I guess. He insists that he needs to speak with you urgently."

I had a strong suspicion about who it was—Dad had warned me. Dick Parsons, the CEO of Time Warner. If it were indeed him, the only thing surprising about this visit would be how quickly he'd flown across the Atlantic for this meeting. Dad had mentioned him to me just two days ago. He must really be desperate to have this conversation.

I turned to Rian Johnson, who was just done reviewing the footage. "All's good. We can begin the next scene in an hour. Need some time for preparation."

Unfortunately, that was the life of an actor on set. Sometimes, you have to wait a long time between takes.

"Alright," I said to the AD, rising from my seat. "I'm going to my trailer. Give me a ten-minute headstart to change out of these clothes before escorting him to me."

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