Global Film Emperor

Chapter 364 Two Scripts
"Suka... Suka... Sukabrit!"

The consequences of a hangover are predictable. It's fine when you're asleep, but when you wake up, you'll inevitably have a splitting headache, as if someone is constantly cutting your skull with a chainsaw. You even have to be careful when you breathe, because if you're not careful, the air seems to rush into your head instead of your lungs, making it feel like your head is going to explode.

Electronic music was playing next door. Lu Ze picked up the watch that someone had taken off for him from the bedside table, squinted at the hands, and saw it was 6:17. He glanced out the window; the golden sky clearly wasn't early morning. He sighed, endured the sharp pain in his head, and turned to his side, covering his head with a pillow. But he still couldn't stop the loud dance music from getting into his ears.

He closed his eyes and pretended to be dead for ten seconds... twenty seconds... half a minute. Finally, he couldn't hold back any longer and sat up with a black line on his face. When he put on his slippers, he wiggled his toes a couple of times to make the slippers fit him better. Before he could even get up, he saw half a trash can full of vomit on the bedside table. The vomit was quite accurate, not spilling outside at all. It was obvious who vomited this.

Even knowing it was his own creation, Lu Ze still felt nauseous. He rested his hands on his knees and remained silent for a few seconds. He grabbed a few tissues from the bedside table and covered the trash can as if burying his head in the sand. Only then did he get up, walk to the window, and open it. The floor was high up, and the wind was a bit strong. The wind blowing on his face made him feel even more dizzy.

Once the unpleasant smell in the room had mostly dissipated, he opened the door. Instantly, he realized... the bedroom wasn't actually that noisy...

The living room was littered with empty wine bottles, and the table was piled high with takeout wrappers. No one had cleaned up after they finished eating. The small ashtray next to them was overflowing with cigarette butts, and even the ashes were scattered outside. The group's smelly shoes and worn-out socks were strewn everywhere, emitting a pungent odor. One sock was lying by Lu Ze's bedroom door. Looking at it, Lu Ze was quite certain that it had been worn for years.

The speakers were playing clanging dance music. Kesha, with a cigarette dangling from his lips, lay on the sofa playing on his phone, while the other two gritted their teeth and played Street Fighter on their PS4. It wasn't until Mickey's Guile, with almost full health, defeated Lucas's Chun-Li that their fierce expressions changed. One screamed excitedly, while the other hung his head in frustration.

"Thirty bucks, you owe me. My Gullit and Zangief, they can't beat anyone in Liverpool! Who gave you the guts to challenge my buddy? Cheers! Oh, you're awake? You've been sleeping for almost twenty hours."

Lu Ze looked bitter and resentful, too lazy to talk to Mickey. He turned around and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Regardless of whether the tap water in Liverpool was clean or dirty, he slowly drank the water and managed to suppress the burning sensation that still lingered in his throat. He refilled the glass, carried it back to the living room, plopped down on the sofa, pushed Mickey aside, and looked at the three of them with a puzzled expression.

"Aren't you feeling terrible? My head is about to split open."

"It's alright, you get used to hangovers after a while. You're too weak, aren't you? You're still feeling unwell after sleeping for so long? Lucas, want to play another game?"

Perhaps because Mickey was so good at Street Fighter, Lucas was clearly frustrated and speechless. He put his hands on his face and stared at the controller in deep thought, maybe thinking of combos.

Seeing this, Mickey didn't try to provoke him with words anymore. Otherwise, if they had a real-life showdown, Lucas would probably beat him to a pulp. He shrugged helplessly, took a sip of beer, and said he was bored.

"Who brought us back last night? I remember you guys were drunk too, weren't you?"

"I do not know either."

"You do not know?"

"Yeah, whatever, it's good that you're back. Anyway, nothing's missing. I put your wallet and phone on the bedside table, you should have seen them, right?"

"Saw."

"Now that you're awake... how about a game? Ten bucks a game, how about it?"

The controller was handed to him, but Lu Ze didn't take it immediately. He half-stood up, picked up the cigarette pack, shook it a couple of times, and after hearing the sound, opened the pack, lit a cigarette, took the controller, and tried to play with it. He only knew how to play CF (CrossFire) on PC, so he had never played a PS4 before. He didn't expect to beat Mickey anyway, since the winner would treat him to dinner that night, so winning or losing was the same.

Under Mickey's tutelage, they learned how to throw a punch. After taking a sip of water, the two chatted and laughed, each choosing their own characters, and a bet worth over eighty dollars officially began.

……

"Knock knock knock, hello, your takeout has arrived."

"Oh, okay, forty-seven dollars and fifty pence, right? Fifty dollars, keep the change, goodbye."

He pulled out a handful of tattered banknotes from his pocket, rummaged through them for a while, handed fifty to the delivery guy, and kept the rest as a tip. He took the pizza, responded to the delivery guy's thanks, and Mickey happily kicked the door shut.

Three withdrawn men lay on the sofa, looking depressed. They had been thoroughly humiliated by Mickey. Half an hour had passed since Lu Ze started playing, but the actual time Lu Ze and Mickey had been competing was far less than half an hour. After losing twelve rounds in a row in just eight minutes, Kesha took his place.

It's not surprising that Lu Ze and his two companions couldn't withstand the blow. If the fight was evenly matched, it wouldn't matter if they never won. But being relentlessly attacked from the start, unable to even come down from the sky, was unbearable for anyone.
Lu Ze was alright; he knew to cut his losses in time and withdrew after losing 120. However, after losing all his cash, Kesha owed more money than Lu Ze had lost in total. As for Lucas, he only owed 30... that was purely because he carried a lot of cash. Now, the two Russian brothers were deep in thought and didn't say a word for a full ten minutes. Meanwhile, Lu Ze was frowning and struggling to use his cracked phone screen to search for Street Fighter combo guides.

"Alright, alright, you've lost a few hundred dollars and you all look so miserable. Have something to eat, we won't go out tonight. You guys eat first, I'll go get something, I recently wrote a new notebook."

This is Mickey's new apartment, a spacious four-bedroom, two-living-room home, unlike his father's old apartment where he had to store important documents in a safe behind the TV. Now, he has his own study again. As for his conflict with his father... the somewhat stubborn old man won't forgive him immediately just because Mickey has turned things around.

The food was delivered quickly, and the cheese on the pizza was so stretchy that it could be pulled apart. Lu Ze and the other two tidied up the platform a little, and just as they took a bite, Mickey came out of the study with two thin stacks of bound A4 papers.

"Two notebooks, you look at this one first. *slap*! Don't you know how to wipe your oily hands?"

A complete script wouldn't be this thin. Clearly, Mickey was still wary of his Russian brothers and hadn't given them enough trust. Perhaps he had already decided that, apart from Lu Ze and his daughter, he wouldn't let anyone else read the entire script at once before signing a confidentiality agreement. Kesha reached out, but seeing his gleaming fingers, Mickey frowned and slapped his hand away. Even if they were getting along well, Mickey was still his boss, so Kesha couldn't say anything. He reluctantly wiped his hands before carefully taking the script, resisting the urge to lick his fingers and turn the pages, and began to read the script of this European genius.

Lu Ze noticed Kesha's expressive face and had already made up his mind that it was probably interesting. The script was thin, less than twenty pages long. Ten minutes later, Kesha closed the script, did not give it to Lucas, but handed it to Lu Ze, and then nodded.

"It looks interesting, but I know too little about it; all I can tell is that it's somewhat interesting."

“I know what you mean. Don’t worry, I have a plan. The fact that I’m showing it to you shows that I need you brothers. You are destined to be involved in this movie. The script is not yet perfect. Although the storyline is finalized, there are still some issues with the storyboard. If you accept this, we can discuss the contract when I return from Germany. OK?”

Kesha and Lucas exchanged a glance, and the two brothers shrugged in unison: "We have no objection, boss."

At this moment, Lu Ze did not participate in their conversation. Instead, he began to read the thin stack of scripts. He turned to the first page, and the title caught his eye.

"exile".

The title wasn't particularly appealing, and although it carried a sense of desolation, Lu Ze didn't pay it any mind. Instead, he turned to the second page to get a rough idea of ​​this small part of the story.

The story so far is very simple: it's just about an explorer who gets into trouble at sea and is stranded on a deserted island. There are many stories like this, such as the Hollywood movies "Lost" and "Lord of the Flies," or the domestic film "The Island."

However, unlike other films, these kinds of movies mostly tell the story of a group of people stranded on a deserted island, focusing on the intrigue and backstabbing between people, the evil in human nature, or the reshaping of social status.

"Exile," on the other hand, depicts the loneliness of being alone on an island after all his companions have died in an accident, giving it a feel similar to documentaries like "Man vs. Wild."

Secondly, the pacing is too fast. Generally, movies of the same genre will lay the groundwork before the danger, explaining the relationships between the characters, the timeline, the cause, and the purpose, and then let the events unfold on the deserted island. However, "Exile" may be because it only features the male protagonist, so it doesn't explain these events and simply ends with the ship capsizing and the film reaching the island.

This kind of film is no longer new, after all, Gulliver's Travels has been published for almost four hundred years. So, as it stands, Lu Ze is not very interested. In his opinion, only Mickey's excellent script and environment creation, which brings out the sense of desolation and loneliness, are somewhat interesting. But then again, this kind of film is really suitable for the Mendeleev brothers, after all, they are ruthless people who dared to go to Siberia to shoot a short film.

After all, their positions are different. Lu Ze is the boss, so he naturally has no reservations. Unlike the two brothers, who are employees, there are some things they can't say to their boss directly, so they spoke up and suggested to Mickey.

"I think this film was a great choice for Kesha and Lucas."

This recommendation, devoid of personal emotion and based entirely on rational evaluation, did not surprise Mickey. He crossed his legs, took a large bite of pizza, chewed incessantly until he swallowed, and then wiped his shiny lips with a tissue.

"Of course, I also think it would be better if Kesha and Lucas had directed this movie."

Lu Ze didn't respond to the two brothers' grateful gazes. He understood their feelings; they were desperate to make a film, which was understandable, given that they hadn't had a good time during their time in Europe. If they weren't Russians, as winners of the Cannes Best Short Film Award, they could at least make a low-budget film to test the waters. But now, they could only wait for Lu Ze and Mickey's decision.

Putting the script aside, Lu Ze stuck the cigarette butt into the ashtray, poured a little water into his glass to extinguish the cigarette, crossed his hands on his crossed legs, and twisted his two thumbs together in a clockwise direction.

"So, the second movie will be cast in Kesha and Lucas?"

"Do not."

Seeing the brothers' disappointed expressions, Mickey's expression became very serious. He raised his palm towards the brothers to calm them down, and then... suddenly revealed a smile.

"It's the third one. I've already said that there are still some problems with the storyboarding and dialogue in 'Exile' and it needs to be improved. In the meantime, I will be producing a second film. I will be the director, you will be the male lead, and Lucas will be the cinematographer. My sense of color recognition is not very good, so I am always dissatisfied with the use of color. Therefore, Kesha, you, a former oil painter, need to be my art director. Do you two agree?"

"No problem, boss!"

Both of them had no objection to this arrangement; as long as there was hope, they were happy enough.

"So the second movie... should be that script, right?"

Lu Ze pointed to the script that Mickey had placed behind him. Mickey smiled and nodded, a hint of excitement in his eyes. He pushed the pizza box aside, took a paper towel and vigorously wiped the table until it was clean and free of any grease. Then he carefully picked up the script and placed it on the table. He coughed twice to clear his throat before introducing his new script to the three of them.

"This is a script I wrote in prison, born after 'The Effect,' and it's my most satisfying script to date! Gentlemen, now I'd like to introduce my latest masterpiece... 'Future Life.'"

Rebirth!
"..."

(End of this chapter)