-I have to go, - she said with a blend of joy, disappoi, and a tense maneuver of terror for the producers. Time was restless, yet the entire crew moved with a unified goal: to nail the rehearsals. It was like being iheater, a phenomenon only seen iain produusicals, grand dance routines, or whehe director deemed it essential. Each detail was meticulously crafted, all verging into one cohesive effort. Yet everything revolved around two characters, each trying to el ideas rooted in their roles.

  -It's incredible how things work around here, - remarked Kate Wi. She had long uood every nuance of the film's development—her character, Billy Carson’s, Caledon’s, Rose’s mother, even Caledon’s hen—all orbiting around Rose’s vivid imagery. Kate worked tirelessly.

  -Do you mean the produ? - Billy responded, somewhat lost in thought as his mind wahrough the swirling chaos of ideas—the early dawn exhaustion, the ics he ushing to sell. It was an intense mix, but 1996 was the year of Altered Carbon, The Expansive, Mortal Engines, and the Titanibsp;book. Alongside these was the not-sotten Mistborn, which is likely to gain momentum year. These books were among the bestsellers, but in the years to e, the chase for accumution and premise would py out like a gift and a challenge.

  -Yes, I love it. These invisible cities lost pces. You were amazing today, - Kate said, the particur depth in eaent. Her cheeks were flushed. They were in a secluded room, entirely detached and hidden.

  They gazed out from a high window at the invisible city, enveloped by emptiness.

  -You’re not going to mention the elephant in the room? - Kate asked.

  -It’s an elephant… but I believe silence should e first. Don’t you enjoy the kind of silence shared by people who truly uand each other? It’s a blessing to have someoo share that with, - Billy replied.

  He jotted down a note, opened his suitcase, and poured a small gss of wihe liquid ce helped articute brief, brilliant thoughts. It gave Kate fidend eased Billy’s headache, though he used wine sparingly, often reminisg about the times he’d shared it with his exes.

  -Hoard this is, - Kate muttered. She was marinated in nervous energy, still adjusting after ending a five-year retionship st year, a thought that lingered.

  Billy cupped her cheeks and kissed her lips. It was cold and awkward, but they both leaned into it, transf it into something deeper. The attra helped, though Billy’s mind remained fixated on his enting Monica. Chemistry tests were fiery, passionate, and unbearably unfortable.

  -So, what did you think this time? - Billy asked.

  They kissed again, this time more passionately, filled with heat and a touch of anger. It was messy and more intense.

  -I think this is it, - Billy said.

  -Better, exg. I think I finally uand how to kiss you, - Kate replied, sipping anss of wine, her nerves electrified by the moment.

  -See you week, then. Baja California, right? - Kate said, knowing the pressures and stresses of ag would eventually catch up, as they always did in this industry.

  -Everything will turn out better than we expect. These things only ever move in one dire, - Billy said, exuding ara dose of fide was both reassuring and disappointing, a gamble like every other in this business.

  Downstairs, the producers gathered during their break. One final step remaio synize the produ, aiming to filming by November or December. They celebrated at a private bar filled with artists. James Cameron, visibly drunk at the ter, marveled at the moment.

  -These are producer parties, - Billy murmured, enjoying the unique energy of the event. The crowd was filled with repressed enthusiasm, finally unleashed.

  -Billy, you’re a madman! - called Russell Carpenter, one of the new produ team members. As the director of photography, his many roles in reshaping the team were remarkable. Richard Harris sang a bald, his way of perf, as the closed bar shielded them from the outside world.

  -You all went overboard, - Billy quipped.

  -Not really. Everyone here knows it’s just a small gathering,- Russell replied, dragging Billy around the room. The camaraderie felt like a rite of passage. Everyone had stories, particurly Cameron, who reminisced about Terminator in 1991 and how Billy’s script for the sequel had caused turmoil with producers who doubted the storyline.

  -But it was a great film, - Billy said.

  -That’s the thing with movies, - James said, taking another drink. -People are filled with premonitions, and every premonition es with baggage. That baggage is the harsh truth: films o be poetically expined or emotionally colborative. If a movie inates from troversy, it create uainty, especially when it’s a big iment from a politically correct group. -

  -Is that true? - Billy asked.

  John Ladou chimed in as if summoned.

  -For instance, before you joined, we were at a breaking point. We needed 30 million to finish paying for lises and other sets. Your arrival was the turning point of that meeting. Even your promise to i made a difference. People trust someone who always does things right, - Ladou said, visibly worn out.

  -Oh, at that time, did we run out of budget and have to improvise? We shot ses in yrandparents’ house instead of a mansion, repai in a weekend, and fixed it as best we could, - Richard Harris added, ughing about the chaotic budgeting woes.

  -Damn, - they all excimed in unison.

  ...