Hollywood: Star Kid

As early as the beginning of December, Hollywood Records publicly announced that the debut solo album of the super genius Ryan Jenkins would be officially released after the New Year, attracting widespread attention. The album, titled ".fly", was about to begin its promotional campaign and chart climb.

Ryan had been actively cooperating with the record company's publicity plan. While everyone's attention was focused on his music, he had to divert a significant portion of his energy to his film-related business.

Since a few months ago, Kingsley had been engaged in a tug-of-war-style negotiation with Universal Pictures — naturally, over the film adaptation rights to Jurassic Park.

The negotiation process had been far from smooth. Ryan was asking for quite a lot — he wanted to carve out a large slice of the cake and put it in his own pocket.

Universal wasn't stupid either. They planned to follow Disney's approach with The Lion King, granting the original author and screenwriter multiple roles in exchange for a share of the box office and subsequent merchandise revenue.

If Ryan was willing to invest under $10 million, Universal would welcome him with open arms. Giving up a bit of profit while building a closer relationship — why not?

Unexpectedly, the other party's appetite turned out to be much bigger than anticipated — they threw out a co-production and profit-sharing agreement.

Universal could tolerate Ryan participating as an investor, but they could not accept giving up nearly half of the foreseeable profits. Ultimately, the negotiations collapsed.

Holding absolute control over the rights, Ryan wasn't in the least bit anxious. While he preferred to collaborate with Universal Pictures, he didn't mind working with other major film studios either. After all, Jurassic Park's rights were 100% in his hands. Unless he agreed, nobody could touch it.

Of course, he hadn't yet given up on working with Universal. In his opinion, they would eventually make concessions.

As the second-oldest of the seven major studios, Universal Pictures had been struggling in recent years, with no strong releases. If they didn't take action soon, they'd fall into the same decline as MGM and Sony Columbia Pictures.

You had to understand — MGM, aside from its massive film library, had long relied solely on the James Bond franchise, while Sony Pictures, after being acquired by the Japanese, still hadn't figured out how to operate in the U.S. entertainment market, and was paying the price for it.

In Ryan's previous life, Universal's big comeback came through Jurassic Park and Schindler's List. The former brought in nearly $1 billion at the global box office and had massively successful merchandise sales, while the latter made a tremendous impact and swept the Oscars.

The person who ordered the end of the negotiations was Universal's parent company executive — President of MCA Music, Sean Sheinberg. Dissatisfied, he wanted to use this tactic to show that kid who really held the upper hand.

However, Ryan Jenkins was no longer the child from a year ago — no longer the former child star whom Tom Cruise could casually question in public. With this year's consecutive hits — Sleepless in Seattle, Terminator 2, and The Bodyguard — he had firmly established his standing in Hollywood. In the eyes of film companies, his works had become a guarantee of box office success.

"Leak the news. Only with competition can we fetch a better price," Ryan had told Kingsley after the negotiation collapsed.

So, on the very same day, the news got out, and the film industry exploded. Only then did everyone realize that Universal had taken the lead in Hollywood — setting their sights on Jurassic Park.

This was a book that had held the top spot on the U.S. bestseller list for over 40 weeks. According to the publisher Alienform, it had sold more than 10 million copies. In the U.S., the U.K. — no, around the entire world — it had countless fans. If adapted properly, profitability wasn't even a question. The only question was how much money it would make.

People were furious — Ryan Jenkins and Universal had negotiated in secret, and then it fell through? Great.

Warner Bros., Sony Pictures, Paramount, and 20th Century Fox contacted Kingsley that very day. Producers like Tim Burton and Jerry Bruckheimer weren't far behind. The entire film industry was thrown into a frenzy. Soon, media reports revealed that Jurassic Park was being adapted into a film.

Strictly speaking, Ryan had rewritten the book into a more child-friendly version — more accurately, an all-ages version. Unlike in his past life, the book had already become a bestseller back in 1986. As Ryan's fame grew, so did sales, cultivating a massive fanbase.

Upon hearing the news, fans were overjoyed. What could be more thrilling than seeing their favorite dinosaurs on the big screen?

"We've been waiting for this day. Ryan is finally bringing his most important work to the big screen. Yes! We're excited! We love Jurassic Park!"

This statement came from a Ryan fan club that bought a small ad space in the newspaper to express their support for their idol.

Of course, there were also concerns. An older fan, interviewed in a Los Angeles Times street survey, said worriedly, "I want to see Jurassic Park on film too — especially that giant T-Rex. But I'm concerned that current film technology can't make the dinosaurs look lifelike. That would be awful — an absolute disaster."

The Los Angeles Times even set up a survey: "Do you want to see a movie version of Jurassic Park?" Close to 20,000 responses came in — over 90% said yes.

Ryan didn't know every detail about Jurassic Park's development in his previous life, but this time around, the rights hadn't even been sold yet, and it was already a sensation, drawing massive attention.

In fact, everyone had high expectations for the adaptation — especially since Ryan Jenkins would personally write the screenplay. The only real concern was post-production technology.

So who currently held the most advanced special effects technology in Hollywood? That would be Industrial Light & Magic, of course. Not long after, reporters approached George Lucas. Upon hearing their question, the old man didn't hesitate and replied confidently, "With ILM's technology, we can absolutely create lifelike dinosaurs."

He wouldn't say that unless he was sure. And with Terminator 2's groundbreaking effects fresh in everyone's mind, the film studios grew even more confident. A wave of phone calls flooded Kingsley and her team, driving them half-mad.

Studios who had previously worked with Ryan — especially Warner and Disney — were the most proactive. Gerald and Michael Eisner both made personal visits, hoping Ryan would prioritize them.

Ryan couldn't directly reject them, so he simply set one condition: "The director of this movie must be Steven Spielberg. That's a prerequisite for negotiations!"

Somehow, word of this leaked out. Now the pressure shifted — the major studios all turned their focus toward the Jewish director.

At this point, a person who had joined Universal earlier than in Ryan's past life played a key role. Ron Meyer went against the tide and persuaded Sean Sheinberg to restart negotiations with Kingsley. Using long-standing industry relationships, he brought Spielberg to Universal Studios.

How they convinced Spielberg remained unclear. According to what Kingsley told Ryan, Spielberg looked furious when he left Universal Studios and kept a stern face throughout the subsequent negotiations.

Soon after, news broke: Universal would invest $30 million to produce Schindler's List, with Steven Spielberg as the director.

By this point, Ryan didn't need to ask — he already knew the events from his previous life were unfolding. The honeymoon period between Universal and Spielberg was over. It wouldn't be long before Hollywood entered a new era, ushering in a rising giant — DreamWorks.

What are negotiations? To put it plainly — you start with a sky-high asking price and bargain down.

Ryan knew the terms he initially proposed were a bit harsh, so he took the initiative to make concessions. What followed was lightning-fast progress. By December, both parties had reached an agreement and signed the contract.

For the film adaptation and investment of Jurassic Park, Jenkins Pictures and Universal Pictures would invest $5 million and $45 million respectively, as the initial budget. Excluding distribution and marketing costs that Universal would deduct in the future, profits and rights would be split according to the investment ratio.

Ryan reduced his share of the investment. After all, he was completely unfamiliar with the manufacturing and distribution of merchandise — many areas still depended on Universal's channels.

As for Ryan personally, in addition to the profits from Jenkins Pictures, he would also receive $5 million and 3% of the North American box office revenue as payment for adaptation rights and screenwriting duties.

It was a very favorable deal — for both Universal and everyone else involved.

With the profit-sharing agreement finalized, Ryan entered an incredibly busy period. He temporarily shelved the unfinished Léon: The Professional and, starting in December, focused entirely on writing — aiming to complete the first draft of Jurassic Park's screenplay before the New Year.

He extended his vacation, planning to return to school after Christmas. Aside from occasionally checking The Bodyguard's box office figures, he poured almost all his energy into writing the script.

Fortunately, he had a clear mental image of the film to compare against. Having previously written the Ryan Jenkins version of Jurassic Park, taking up the pen again went much more smoothly.

Finally, just before attending Diana's charity gala, Ryan completed the first draft of the screenplay — along with dozens of dinosaur sketches, all classic designs from the film in his previous life.