"Mr Hughes will be with you shortly. Would you like some refreshments? Perhaps a drink?" the clearly English moustached butler motioned for Mark and Nolan to settle down on the overly luxurious velvet couch.
"No, thank you." Mar curtly responded, and Nolan couldn't help but close his opened mouth and nod along Mark's statement. Curtly, the butler excused himself and closed the door to the room, leaving the two with some privacy.
"How exactly did you come into contact with Mr. Howard Hughes...?" Mark asked while leaning back in the comfortable sofa.
"Well... a friend of mine... invited me to a party."
"That's it?"
"Not exactly. My friend was someone with... peculiar... preferences... and he was invited to a party... for people with similar... preferences. Now, as it turned out, a lot of rich people, and influential people from Hollywood, and outside it were going to be coming. So when he was given the choice of bringing someone along, considering the fact that he did not have a date due to his recent separation, and my needs which I had just told him about a few nights ago while drinking, he decided to invite me as his plus one."
"And nobody found that odd? I mean... I know its the land of the free, but bringing a man as your plus one?" Mark raised an eyebrow.
"Well... I would rather not talk about it. All you need to know... is that this is a once in a lifetime opportunity. Of course, Mr. Hughes has yet to read our script, so he will do that," Nolan patted the briefcase he had kept so close to him all this time before continuing, "While you an I can observe his only son, Mathew's acting skills."
"Oh? The impotent one actually had children in this timeline? Fascinating don't you think?" Mark's father melted out of Nolan's body las though his soul was leaving him.
Mark ignored his father, turning his attention to the coffee table in front of him with a variety of dried fruits, nuts, and other snacks, as well as some cigarettes, ash trays, and magazines.
'Christopher Street... isn't that the-' Mark's thoughts were cut short as the closed doors were swung open with great gusto. A middle-aged man with somewhat unkempt teeth and a head of thin and partly missing hair walked in with considerable swagger.
"Nolan my friend! Good to see you again!" the man spoke in his rough and slightly grating voice.
"You too, Mr. Hughes!" Christopher was happy as well, though likely not for the same reason as Mr. Hughes.
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A bit of handshaking, and a bit of pleasantries later, Mr. Hughes was seated at the sofa in front of where Nolan and Mark were seated. He was leaning back while chatting casually with them, and after his butler brought him and Nolan a drink, and Mark a freshly squeezed apple juice, the main conversation finally began.
"Mr. Hughes, I have with me the script that Mark here has written through great effort," Nolan pulled out the thick stack of paper, while Mark simply took a sip of juice.
"How much?" Howard asked, his deep brown eyes reflecting the blue eyes of the two men in front of him.
"Excuse me?" Nolan seemed confused.
"How much will it cost to purchase the script?" Mr. Hughes repeated.
"Uhm... well... he agreed to handing it over for $50,000, with an additional $150,000 if the movie grossed more than $100 million at the North American Box Office," Nolan decided being frank and direct was the best route for this conversation, and his decision paid off as a soft smile replaced the serious expression of the billionaire in front of them.
"Good. I will accept that."
"Mr. Hughes... if i may?" Mark asked softly, to which the man nodded and motioned fr him to proceed.
"I am writing another script. Something with a much lower budget of $1 million. Of course, the script is still being made, but by the time 'The Sixth Sense' is released, it should be completed. I will be investing all $200,000 I will earn from the movie into this movie. I would like to ask you to invest the remaining $800,000, but leave the production of the movie to me entirely. Hmm, if 'The Sixth Sense' crosses $200 million in the North American Box Office, I would like for you to sponsor my next film. Of course, you will get 80% of the earnings, while I will get 20%."
"Y- you are making a movie without me?" Nolan turned to Mark, almost hurt. Whether this was an exaggerated expression or his true feelings was unknown, even to Mark, so he decided to reply truthfully.
"I've seen your older short films you have made. This is not your type of movie. When I finish the script, you can read it. If you still wish to direct the movie, I will agree to it no questions asked," Mark shrugged, and Nolan simply nodded with a smile, his previous hurt expression vanishing instantly.
"Haha! If it crosses $200 million, I'll give you the entire million."
"I will take you up on that offer. I will still want 17% of the earnings from the movie... and I want 100% ownership of the the IP, if there is a sequel, I want to decide everything."
"...sure," Mr. Hughes took only a moment to decide, before taking the script from Nolan and beginning to read it in silence.
...
After half an hour, he motioned for the butler while not removing his eyes from the script. Still, the Englishman somehow understood what he wanted and bowed sightly before leaving the room. He returned 10 minutes later with a child around the age of 10.
'It looks like I have seen him somewhere before...' Mark thought to himself, only to be rather loudly interrupted by his father hanging upside down from the ceiling right in front of the child.
"Jesus Christ! It's Jack Black!" he exclaimed in a failed parody at a certain Jason Bourne scene.
"This is young Master Hughes. Thomas Hughes. And he had prepared a small skit for the two gentlemen," the butler moved back and allowed the young boy to take a deep break and a step forward, before beginning his acting.