Chapter 227: Yacht Club

Sunset Boulevard was lined with all sorts of bars, forming the center of Los Angeles nightlife. The most famous among them had to be the Viper Room, owned by the major star Johnny Depp. Its exterior walls were painted entirely in Depp's favorite pitch-black. It suited the name perfectly, exuding a dark aura of death that perfectly matched Depp's own decadent, alternative vibe.

The bar was full of stories, making it a favorite gathering spot for young Hollywood stars. You could find everything you needed for a wild party here: handsome men, beautiful women, and alcohol. Even though River Phoenix had collapsed from a drug overdose on the sidewalk outside in 1993 and never gotten back up, and despite Depp hosting a special memorial for him every year, people were forgetful. The Viper Room remained Hollywood's most famous party hub.

"Hey, Duke."

Duke had just walked in and was still trying to adjust to the dim lighting and blaring music when he heard Depp's voice beside him. True to his usual style, the actor walked right up and pulled him into a hug.

"Welcome!" he said, slapping Duke hard on the back.

Duke wasn't used to being quite so intimate with another man. After the hug, he pulled back slightly to put some distance between them.

"I haven't even thanked you yet, Depp. You've given the crew the best possible place to unwind," Duke said.

Looking around, crew members from every department were scattered in every corner of the bar. Men were chasing beautiful women, women were flirting with handsome men, and others were gathered in small groups, puffing on cigarettes.

"Didn't you guys already pay?"

Depp led Duke toward the bar, looking every bit like a street hippie with his slacker posture.

"Should I thank you for bringing the bar such high revenue?" he asked.

They both laughed.

They hadn't been chatting at the bar for long when Sofia Coppola walked over. Depp gave Duke a shrug, stood up, and wandered off somewhere else.

"A dark beer, thanks."

After ordering her drink, Sofia sat on the tall stool beside him.

"Where's that girlfriend of yours?" she asked, curious.

"It's temporary!" Duke corrected her, raising his glass to clink against hers. "I came alone. I doubt Kate will show up tonight, but who knows."

Sofia Coppola took a large gulp of her dark beer and turned to look at Duke.

"Don't put too much pressure on yourself," she said. "You've been the most exhausted person on set these past few months."

"You really do know me," Duke said, simply smiling.

"With your current net worth, you can afford to lose this investment," Sofia continued.

"It's twenty-five million dollars!" Duke stressed.

"There's an unwritten rule in Hollywood: a director never uses his own money to make a movie," Sofia said, gesturing at him. She raised her glass and added just before taking a sip, "You broke that rule without hesitation. If you really do lose it all, you'll only have yourself to blame."

These days, other than Sofia, very few people would speak to him like that. Duke nodded.

"Thanks for the reminder, Sofia," he said.

"You took home over 180 million dollars in backend cuts from Independence Day, and you'll make over 120 million from Saving Private Ryan." Sofia still felt the need to warn him. "But that money is nothing when it comes to film production. Two or three big-budget flops, and you'll lose it all."

Duke reached over and patted her arm.

"With you around to remind me," he said with a laugh, "I believe it won't get that bad."

Sofia Coppola suddenly fell silent, the smile gradually fading from her face. That flat, nasal tone that hadn't been heard in a long time returned.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to remind you in the future," she said.

Duke turned to look at her. Her serious expression made it obvious she wasn't joking. He could only let out a quiet sigh.

Sofia Coppola had her own dreams of directing. Many people on his production team did. It was a path toward pursuing a dream that no one could block, especially not when Sofia had the full support of the Coppola family behind her.

Besides, the two of them had entirely different philosophies on film. It was actually within his expectations that she would choose to strike out on her own before Zack Snyder did.

"Did you find a suitable project?" Duke asked.

Sofia nodded, then shook her head.

"A book. I'm still negotiating, and it might not work out," she said. "But I'm planning to shoot a few experimental films first. The money I've made from you these past couple of years is enough to fund several of them."

Duke raised his glass in her direction.

"I wish you success!" he said. "Here's to becoming the most outstanding female director in Hollywood."

After finishing his drink, Duke spoke again.

"Those first two projects are crucial, Sofia," he advised. "Don't rush it, and pay close attention to the genres you choose. My suggestion is to avoid commercial films for now. Art-house cinema suits your mindset best."

"Thanks!" Sofia didn't hold back at all. "If I run into a problem I can't solve, I'll come looking for you. Don't even think about staying out of it!"

Before she even finished speaking, she broke into a laugh.

"Duke, these years working with you have been the most rewarding and fulfilling time of my life," she said softly. "Sometimes when I think about it, time just seems so short..."

Duke gently tapped his glass, interrupting her.

"Hey, darling," he said. "You're just going to work on your own. The industry is only so big. It's not like we'll never see each other again, so don't make it sound like a life-or-death parting, all right?"

Sofia laughed and finished off the dark beer in her glass.

"We'll definitely have plenty of chances to see each other," she agreed. "I'm going to go take a few drags. Want to join?"

Duke shrugged, showing no intention of moving. Sofia turned and walked toward the crowd of smokers.

Sitting there, Duke swept his gaze across the bar. Just like Sofia, the core members of his team all had their own ideas, and more of them would inevitably leave in the future. That was just how the industry worked. No great director's production team remained completely unchanged; people were always coming and going.

Besides, given Sofia Coppola's ambitions and family background, how could she possibly stay as his assistant long-term?

"Hi, Duke."

Hearing the greeting, Duke nodded to the side.

"Long time no see, Keanu," he said.

He then looked beside Keanu Reeves and spotted a very familiar face.

"Aren't you going to introduce your girlfriend?" he asked.

"Just a regular friend," Keanu Reeves hurriedly clarified. "This is the female lead in my new film, Speed 2. Miss Sandra Bullock."

"Hello, Director Rosenberg."

Before Reeves could finish his introduction, she eagerly extended a hand.

"It's a great pleasure to meet you," she said.

"Nice to meet you too." Duke gave her hand a gentle shake.

She was a classic American girl—straightforward and actively trying to get on his good side. They hadn't been sitting together long before the conversation shifted to their new movie. Duke couldn't help but marvel at how mysteriously things developed sometimes.

Keanu Reeves had found fame early and had started to decline just as quickly. He hadn't produced any standout work in recent years. Duke had sold all the rights to Speed long ago, so when the sequel was put on the schedule, Reeves hadn't turned down the offer to play the male lead. Because Uma Thurman was no longer playing the female lead, new auditions had been held, and Sandra Bullock had emerged as the ultimate winner.

At the same time, Duke also figured out why Twentieth Century Fox was so strapped for cash.

It was Twentieth Century Fox who had bought all the rights to Speed. They were naturally the investors for the movie, and they had greenlit a staggering production budget of one hundred million dollars for the sequel!

Combined with their investment in Titanic and other ongoing projects, it was no wonder that Fox had fallen into financial straits when James Cameron strongly demanded additional funding.

After a few casual questions, Duke also learned that Keanu Reeves's salary for the sequel was a massive twelve million dollars!

The sky-high salaries of returning cast members were an endless headache that production companies could never quite solve.

Gradually, a plan formed in Duke's mind. If the Speed sequel bombed just like it had originally, Keanu Reeves's asking price would definitely plummet. Maybe he could hire him then?

They hadn't chatted for long before Keanu Reeves went off to find Johnny Depp. Left behind, Sandra Bullock seemed to have some ideas of her own, dropping a few hints in her conversation. Duke pretended not to understand and merely gave vague responses. Not only was this woman notoriously fond of younger men, but her looks seriously didn't fit his aesthetic.

Besides, another actress—one who looked vastly more beautiful than Sandra Bullock—had already walked over.

Charlize Theron seemed to have had too much to drink. Her eyes were so bright they practically looked liquid. When she sat down next to Duke, she leaned half her body onto the tall bar, acting as if she really was drunk.

She kept her eyes on Sandra Bullock as she leaned close to Duke.

"It's boring here," she whispered. "Why don't we go somewhere else?"

"Where to?" he asked.

How many people could possibly refuse an invitation like that from Charlize Theron? It wasn't the first time for the two of them anyway, and Duke had no intention of turning her down.

"Let's go to my place." She blinked her large, bright eyes at him. "It's not far from here."

Charlize Theron's new place really wasn't far. Ten minutes later, after Duke had deliberately swapped cars with Ben Watts, he drove into the courtyard of the small villa Charlize was renting. The two got out and headed inside. Skillfully bypassing the living room, they walked hand-in-hand straight into her bedroom...

The moon vanished beyond the horizon. When the sun rose again to hang in the eastern sky, Duke walked into the dining room and sat across from Charlize Theron. His breakfast was already laid out on the table.

Glancing at the softly smiling Charlize Theron across from him, Duke picked up his knife and fork, cut off a small piece of toast and fried egg, and gave a slight nod after tasting it.

Charlize Theron suddenly spoke.

"Darling, what did you think of my performance in that scene?" she asked.

"It was outstanding," Duke said. He knew exactly what she meant.

"Could you keep a few more of my shots in the final cut?" she asked.

Duke thought it over and didn't refuse. Her performance in that scene relied heavily on her stunning looks anyway, and he hadn't planned on cutting too much of it during post-production.

Compared to the former choice, Lucy Liu, Charlize Theron's acting might not have been quite as spectacular, but she fit the character's design far better. If she were standing next to Naomi Watts, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that she completely overpowered her in both looks and presence.

In this industry, even eye candy had its tiers.