From Shadows To The Spotlight

[Chapter 12: His Very Presence Invites Challenge]

Last Time on Chapter 011 of From Shadows To The Spotlight —

Langston's jaw clenched at the memory. What kind of studio takes chances on nobodies and actually gets it right? But that wasn't a one time thing with Alex. 

He always seemed to have this strange sixth sense for talent, a gut feeling that paid off more often than not. The industry had taken note, and so did he, using the studio's resources to entice these actors and talents away from Alex's camp.

But it wasn't just Jim Carrey or Keanu Reeves alone that propelled MONARCH to the heights it had reached in the industry.

Langston's mind drifted to another moment that solidified Alex's reputation in ways that still haunted him, as it had been it their first face off, not that Alex knew about it.

Now Continuing —

It happened somewhere around month of December 1992, George Lucas, the maverick director of Hollywood, was about to restart his much beloved film franchise: Star Wars. 

At first, Lucas had been planning on creating the film in collaboration with 20th Century Fox. But it was him and another an executive at Fox that put forward a plan to squeeze Lucas for more profits by gaining a share of the merchandising rights of the film.

The higher ups were skeptical at first, and why wouldn't they be, after all what was stopping Lucas from approaching another rival studio to cut a deal.

Thankfully, he had made a few contacts in the other studios and come to an agreement that they would squeeze Lucas together. 

After all, Star Wars was a beloved IP that would generate them hundreds of millions of dollars every quarter. And like sharks that had smelt blood in the water, they all pounced.

Causing Lucas to be driven to such desperation that he decided to go independent with Star Wars: Episode I — The Phantom Menace. What could he do when all the Big Six studios had colluded together and rejected his pitch for a co-produced and jointly financed project. 

Lucas, stubborn as he was, had nearly caved in to the 20th Century Fox's demands—they wanted a cut of merchandising and other peripheral sales in exchange for taking on production.

But at the last possible moment, Alex Masters had stepped in, this time he wasn't just an obstacle that might become a hitch in their well executed plan. But rather a freaking landslide that completely derailed their meticulously crafted and perfectly executed plan.

Langston remembered how quickly the rumors spread: Alex offered Lucas the resources and support he needed, with the stipulation that MONARCH would get a slice of the distribution rights and create any original spin-offs movies/TV shows based on Star Wars as long as Lucas gave the "ok". 

It was such a bullsh*t deal, as all Lucas would have to do was say no and Alex wouldn't get anything in return.

But to no one's surprise, Lucas held up his end of the bargain, and it led to the creation of a series of spin-off projects that propped up Monarch TV.It was another one of Alex's ventures that made his studio a household name.

Together, Alex and Lucas weathered the immense challenges that came with reviving Star Wars. Lucas had even agreed to let Alex co-direct sections of the film, something no one ever thought possible.

Released in June 1994, the film made nearly a billion dollars worldwide, just shy of the monumental success Lucas had hoped for, but still a solid success nonetheless, marking the comeback of Star Wars.

That monstrous box office smash hit should have been his, but it went to that bastard goody two shoes Alex Masters, who didn't even accept the credit and let Lucas enjoy all the fame.

Imagine that, Langston thought with a scowl, someone without a single directing credit to his name, and there he was, co-directing the new Star Wars. And what's worse—the industry loved him for it.

But it was Jurassic Park that truly stung. Jurassic Park, a joint venture between MONARCH and Universal, was one of the biggest productions Hollywood had ever seen.

Langston could still picture the award ceremony, Steven Spielberg beaming as he accepted the Oscar for Best Picture, while Alex watched from the sidelines, his expression humble as ever.

He'd adapted the screenplay, produced the film, and even had a considerable hand in its art design, special effects and editing; and yet he'd stayed out of the limelight, letting Spielberg take center stage.

That humility—that clever manipulation of public perception—was what had won Alex so much respect. It was something Langston could never understand.

While he had made his career by using every trick in and out of the book, desperately clawing his way to the top, playing the Hollywood game with ruthless efficiency.

And here was Alex Motherf**ing Masters, winning over the industry not with backhanded deals or power plays, but just by simply being the guy everyone was vying to work with.

From A-list actors to the most successful and famous directors; they all wanted projects from Studio [MONARCH], after all, who wouldn't want to work with the studio that had a 94% rate of success at the box office.

Langston clenched his fists. He knew better than anyone that Hollywood didn't just thrive on talent alone; no, it thrived on power, influence, and control.

Things that he tried very hard to get his hands on, and Alex's growing little empire was threatening to turn that order upside down.

He remembered the times when he had once commanded both the respect and the attention of every executive and producer in the studio boardroom.

But with each of Alex's box office successes, over his own mediocre or sometimes downright disastrous projects losing millions, he'd felt the foundation of his own legacy weaken.

It was maddening to watch his influence wane, his name slipping from the whispered conversations, being called out to with a hint of mockery and contempt.

All while Alex seemed to just shatter industry records, build connections, and collect one accolade after the other so effortlessly that it looked like something out of a bulls***t wish fulfilment novel.

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~ Back to the Present ~

Langston's assistant cleared her throat, drawing him out of his reverie. "Shall I bring in the files, sir?"

"Yes," Langston replied, his voice cold with anticipation. "And tell me about this so-called 'silver bullet.' You say we finally have something to bring Masters down?"

The assistant's expression was gleeful, a wicked smile stretching across her face, her mouth was already dry imagining the bonus she would receive for pulling this off, not to mention the promotion she had always been vying for now seemed just within her grasp. "Let's just say it's something personal."

"Something he won't be able to charm his way out of, not this time. By the time you're done with him sir, he'll regret even stepping into the industry and all the "friends" he made over the years, they will have no choice but to turn on him to save their own skin."

Langston's eyes glinted with satisfaction as he leaned forward, gripping the edge of his desk. 'Finally,' he thought, 'the bastard's days are numbered.'

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Nicole Kidman sat quietly in the corner of a dimly lit recording studio, her gaze was unfocused as she traced the edges of the script that sat in her lap.

Today, she would be lending her voice to the opening narration of The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, giving life to Galadriel's words as they framed the world of Middle-Earth.

But her mind was miles away from fantasy realms and ancient legends, fixated instead on memories that lingered like shadows.

She adjusted her rustic, hand-tailored blouse, eyes flickering to her reflection in the glass pane that separated her from the bustling sound crew.

Here she was, a part of one of the biggest projects Hollywood had ever seen, playing Galadriel—the ethereal, wise, and powerful Elven queen.

Despite all her efforts, all her sacrifices, Nicole had always felt like she was fighting to hold her place among Hollywood's elite, but finally it felt like that struggle was over.

A gentle knock on the door frame jolted her out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see a production assistant waving her over. "Miss Kidman? We're ready for you."

Nicole nodded, signaling that she'd be right there. She took a steadying breath, but even as she rose, her mind drifted backward, to a pivotal night years before that to this change in the trajectory of her life—The Night of the Phantom Menace after-party.

She hadn't thought about it in ages, yet lately, the memory had crept into her mind, echoing with a strange significance.

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~Flashback: The Phantom Menace After-Party~

It had been one of the rare nights of her life, as she had to attend an event alone, her constant company, the rising star of Hollywood Tom Cruise, wasn't by her side tonight.

It was by her own choice, and her and Tom had been separated for months by then, her decision to walk away solidified by one unsettling factor: Scientology.

She could still remember his impassioned lectures about the organization, how it was "a pathway to success and enlightenment." But to Nicole, it had felt like selling her soul.

A deal she felt like she had already done in Hollywood to become the actress she had always dreamt of being, and look where it got here.

Absolutely no where.. she had been in the industry for nearly a decade by then, and didn't have much to show for it. Instead she had been labelled by the media as the "Box Office Poison."

Leaving Tom had taken courage, but she knew she'd made the right choice, getting that peace of mind was paramount to maintaining her sanity in this crazy minefield that was Hollywood. Still, attending a high-profile Hollywood party without him had been a stark reminder of her position in the industry.

Even though she had starred alongside him in several films, she was still just a vase, a beautiful face to complement the shining star that was Tom Cruise. She'd had no major award nominations, no breakthroughs that would set her apart. She felt invisible, and she hated it.

Standing at the bar, nursing a glass of wine, she scanned the room, hoping to catch sight of someone worth a conversation, maybe a potential new "ally."

Hollywood wasn't easy for a woman alone, especially one who'd just walked out on one of the biggest power players in the industry.

But tonight, it was Lucas's night—George Lucas, the man who'd breathed new life into Star Wars. The surrounding crowd was thick, everyone eager to congratulate the mastermind behind The Phantom Menace's success.

The after-party buzzed with the kind of curated chaos that only Hollywood could produce: golden lights casting warm glows on polished glasses, laughter ricocheting off marble walls, and a persistent undercurrent of veiled competition hiding behind every smiling face.

But for all its glamour and all its "life", the room strangely enough felt hollow to Nicole, as if it were nothing but just a beautiful cage that she could only escape with the right alliances

For a moment, Nicole considered joining the throng, but as she studied the room, her gaze fell on someone else, someone standing apart from the crowd. He was casually dressed, his broad frame leaning against the bar as he spoke to a younger man.

He only wore a plain t-shirt under a loose jacket, and yet he somehow managed to look effortlessly commanding. His intense blue-grey eyes, shadowed by the dim lighting, were fixed on the young man beside him, and he listened with genuine interest.

It took her a second to place him—Alex Masters.She'd heard of his name more than once in the last year. He was the man who'd helped Lucas make The Phantom Menace happen when the Big Six had tried to muscle him out.

She could remember Tom mentioning Alex, dismissing him as a "rookie" who was getting too big for his boots, but Nicole knew better.

She'd picked up enough from conversations between Tom and his manager to understand that Alex was a rising powerhouse.

He was amassing power and influence in ways that were unusual—quiet, discreet, and surprisingly enough almost always above board with moves that caught even the seasoned players off guard.

As the younger man moved away, Nicole watched Alex settle back into his seat at the bar, quietly observing the crowd, untouched by the commotion around him.

No one rushed over to shake his hand or pat his back. He seemed content to watch Lucas receive all the praise, despite having been a key force behind the success of the night.

'Why aren't they surrounding him?' she wondered.

Then she realized that he had positioned himself to avoid the spotlight, choosing to sit on the fringes, blending in among the guests rather than inserting himself into the limelight.

He didn't seek validation from the crowd; he commanded attention but only from those who were astute and observant enough to notice him just by being there.

Curious—and intrigued by his seeming disinterest in the fame others craved—Nicole found herself drawn to him. Her stilettos clicked against the floor as she made her way over, stopping at the bar beside him.

He looked up, those blue-grey eyes piercing but warm, a slight smile touching his lips as he acknowledged her.

"Ms. Kidman, right?" he asked, his voice calm, with a faint trace of amusement.

She couldn't help but laugh lightly, a bit charmed that he hadn't immediately tried to impress her or boast about his work. "And you're Alex Masters. The Man Who Saved Star Wars."

He chuckled, his gaze dropping to his drink. "I'd say George saved Star Wars. I just helped him get over a few bumps along the way."

Nicole studied him, noting the unassuming way he shrugged off the credit. "Why aren't you with Lucas, celebrating?"

Alex leaned back, casting a glance at the crowd surrounding Lucas. "Sometimes it's better to let others have their moment. You see more of what really matters when you're standing on the outside."

In Hollywood, power was usually draped in diamonds and designer suits, wielded with a knowing smile or a firm handshake. But, Alex didn't fit that mold. His power was like an aura, something quiet but unmistakable, like a predator lying in wait.

She had spent years alongside Tom, who wore his influence like a crown, but here was Alex, a king without a throne, commanding respect from those who were in the "know" from the shadows.

Nicole was taken aback by the contrast between his calm demeanor and the power she sensed beneath it. He was unlike anyone she'd ever met—tough yet considerate, unpretentious yet unmistakably influential.

Before she knew it, they were deep in conversation, their voices low and intimate as they shared their thoughts on film, fame, and the strange world of Hollywood.

The rest of the night blurred together.

Nicole hadn't returned to her apartment that evening. Instead, she'd spent the night with Alex, discovering the softer side of the man behind the hard exterior.

He was attentive, empathetic, and far more generous than she had expected, a lover who cared as much for her pleasure as his own.

She'd left his apartment the next morning feeling both exhilarated and grounded, carrying with her the knowledge that she had finally found someone worth knowing, someone who didn't just crave power but commanded it effortlessly.

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~Back to the Present~

"Miss Kidman?" A voice tinged with concern called out to her, interrupting her walk down memory lane, pulling her back to the present.

She looked up to see the assistant gesturing her toward the recording booth, where Alex and Peter waited, watching her through the glass.

Taking a steadying breath, she rose from her seat and approached the booth, ready to lend her voice to Galadriel's timeless words. The memory of that night lingered, a reminder of the complex yet compassionate man she now happily worked for.

She couldn't deny that the connection she had forged with Alex was strategic, but there was something deeper there, something that kept drawing her back to him.. to his arms.

As she stepped into the booth, she caught Alex's eye through the glass. He gave her a nod, a quiet reassurance, and she returned it with a smile.

She had learned many things about power over the years, but Alex Masters had taught her one important lesson: real power wasn't flaunted. It was held, quietly, until the right moment to unleash it.

To be continued...

{2.6k words}

{TRL: This is the new Hollywood story that has been bouncing around in my head. I really need to get this out so here's another chapter.

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