1621-1623

Chapter 1621: Visionary Insight 

Anson Wood’s true value isn’t just about a $40 million paycheck or the “Spider-Man” franchise—it’s far more than that. It’s not just about numbers. 

This time, Creative Artists Agency had truly struck gold. 

In Asha’s eyes, William Morris was completely outdated. 

Originally, William Morris had the opportunity to change the game. It wasn’t just about making history—it was a chance to become a top-tier player. Anson and Edgar were firmly in their camp. But instead, William Morris chose to retreat into its comfort zone, trying to ignore or even reject all of Anson’s efforts and achievements. They not only wasted their chance, but handed it over to someone else. 

Creative Artists wasn’t about to let that opportunity slip away. 

If William Morris realized their mistake and limitations now, they still had a chance to turn things around. After all, they had the legacy and foundation to rebuild from. 

But if they kept passing the buck, kept believing Anson was the one making mistakes, and kept getting caught up in internal politics, then... 

Asha sighed softly. Even though William Morris was still ranked the second-largest talent agency in the industry—a true giant—it wouldn’t take long for a titan like that to collapse if it kept heading in the wrong direction. 

And sure enough… Asha was right. 

By 2009, in less than five years, William Morris—once a dominant, untouchable force in the entertainment world—was slowly being left behind by the times, even as Creative Artists completely overtook them. Despite their proud legacy as the oldest talent agency in Hollywood, they simply couldn’t keep up. 

They were falling apart. 

So William Morris began to take action to save themselves—they joined forces with the Endeavor Talent Agency. 

Ironically, Endeavor was originally formed by former William Morris agents who had left to start their own agency. After years of merging with other mid-sized agencies and growing stronger, they’d become one of the “Big Five” in Hollywood. So of course, they welcomed William Morris back. 

After that, the oldest agency in Hollywood ceased to exist. The Big Five became the Big Four, and a brand-new talent agency behemoth was born— 

WME: William Morris Endeavor, a merger between William Morris (WMA) and Endeavor. 

All of this—just in five years. 

Looking back from 2009, the collapse wasn’t a surprise. The warning signs were always there. Unfortunately, they just couldn’t change their fate. 

Back to the present. 

Asha wasn’t the only sharp mind in Hollywood. 

After the brief noise and excitement faded, cooler heads began to realize: the partnership between Anson and Sony Columbia was a turning point. 

A new storm was quietly sweeping through Hollywood, and Anson had already taken the lead—he had become a one-of-a-kind presence at the top. 

So, a full decade after the birth of the $20 Million Club, was Hollywood about to open a whole new chapter? 

Would actors finally earn the right to have equal footing with movie studios? 

Of course, just like with the $20 Million Club, not every actor could reach those heights. Timing and luck still played a big role. 

But what made reality fascinating was that while people could talk endlessly on paper, things often got chaotic when it came time to act. 

Even after Anson blazed the trail, most top actors were still hesitant to take risks. Johnny Depp, Will Smith, Leonardo DiCaprio—they all stuck with the safety of the $20 Million Club. The first one to step forward after Anson? 

Tom Cruise. 

Of course. Tom Cruise didn’t stay at the top of the pyramid all these years by luck alone. 

From a purely numbers standpoint, Anson’s deal couldn’t match the financial milestone set by Jim Carrey when he first hit the $20 million mark. So, did Creative Artists make the wrong call? 

No. Not at all. 

Jim Carrey’s milestone influenced top-tier actors. But Anson’s breakthrough had a much broader impact—he changed the status of actors across the entire industry. 

Compared to A-listers, it was actually second- and third-tier actors, working-class actors, and character actors who gained the most. Now, they could share in box office profits by investing their talent in indie and low-budget films—betting on themselves, and on their careers. 

For actors, that meant more opportunities to perform. For directors, it helped reduce production costs. 

The entire industry became more dynamic and vibrant. 

So when Jim Carrey entered the $20 Million Club, it shook the industry, but the impact trickled down from the top. Anson’s breakthrough, however, rippled outward from the middle, reaching both ends of the pyramid. Everyone could feel it. 

Creative Artists benefited first. Their expertise in packaging deals meant they now had even more leverage at the negotiating table. 

Just like Asha predicted, Anson was steadily building a reputation and brand of his own in Hollywood. And it wasn’t just actors—many directors and producers began to view him with newfound respect. 

Step by step, Anson was building his own foundation and fortune. 

With the entire Hollywood machine in motion—buzzing, boiling, churning like a storm of hurricanes, earthquakes, volcanoes, and tsunamis—people failed to notice one important piece of news. Even within the industry, few picked up on it right away. Only a small number of insiders caught the significance. 

Sony Columbia announced a change in leadership. After more than two years of a messy “co-CEO” power struggle, the situation had finally been resolved. 

Amy Pascal would remain CEO, while Michael Lynton would serve as President. 

In other words, Michael Lynton had lost the power struggle. As president, he’d now handle day-to-day operations and report to the CEO. 

The outcome was a bit unexpected. 

It wasn’t surprising that Amy won—the massive success of “Spider-Man 2” had already tipped the scale. The real surprise was that Michael stayed on. 

Most people assumed this would be a winner-take-all situation. It was either Amy or Michael—no room for both. 

But now, both had stayed. So what really happened? 

Later rumors suggested that Amy had proposed the arrangement herself. She even offered to step down to president to end the internal feud and focus solely on the company’s future. She didn’t want board members divided, nor the leadership conflict to disrupt decision-making. 

Amy believed she and Michael had complementary strengths. By turning rivals into allies, they could support each other and do even greater things. She reportedly went to Michael personally to make peace and convinced him to work with her on the same team. 

The board was moved. 

But precisely because of her big-picture thinking, the board appointed Amy as CEO. 

This time, Michael didn’t resist. He accepted the role of president, bringing Sony Columbia’s two-year-long internal battle to a peaceful close. 

Now, Sony Columbia could finally focus all its energy on building for the future. 

Chapter 1622: A Threat to the Throne 

Amy Pascal remains CEO of Sony Columbia. 

Michael Lynton steps in as president of the company. 

Coincidence? 

Some say Amy is taking a step back to move forward—a cunning, calculated move that paints her as someone devoted to the company, when in reality, she’s after real, tangible power. Even if she’s technically demoted, the success of Spider-Man still gives her a firm grip on the company's core power. 

Others believe Michael is biding his time, making a strategic retreat now for a greater future comeback. His alliance with Amy is purely transactional, and a fierce internal struggle is inevitable—after all, there’s no way Amy truly trusts Michael or the traitors who betrayed her. 

Still, one thing is clear: Anson played a key role— 

23% of the box office profits. 

That deal not only shook the internal power structure at Sony Columbia, but it also redefined how actors and studios collaborate. 

Anson’s influence is spreading across Hollywood’s elite circle. After Warner Bros., Sony Columbia is now the second major studio feeling the ripple effects. 

But what happens next? 

How will Spider-Man 3 perform? Will Sony Columbia want to keep working with Anson? And what about Forest Pictures? 

How are the other studios reacting to all this? Will they allow an actor to interfere in their internal affairs? 

As Asha predicted, a storm is brewing. The calm is over. Anson has pulled all of Hollywood into the eye of the hurricane. It’s been a long time since the industry has seen anything like this. 

Some hate chaos—because it means uncertainty, instability, and risk. 

But Asha thrives on chaos. To him, chaos means unpredictability. And unpredictability means opportunity. 

Hollywood’s been too quiet for too long. People once thought Leonardo DiCaprio would shake things up, but he disappeared into the jungle for three or four years. That left the industry stagnant. 

Now, finally, the long-awaited storm is here. 

And that’s a good thing. 

Of course, Asha is in the minority. Most—especially those already in power—don’t like chaos. 

“Will… Will…” 

Rust is desperately trying to stop Will Smith—but it’s clearly not an easy task. 

Will Smith flashes his famous smile, showing off his perfect teeth. “What’s the matter? You worried about something?” 

That carefree charm sets off alarm bells in Rust’s mind. He knows Will too well—when Will’s truly furious, this is how he acts. He smiles to hide the storm inside. Behind that grin is a brewing tempest. 

Rust exhales sharply. “Will, no matter what’s going on, I’m on your side. I’ll bring your concerns to the company. There’s no need for you to come in person.” 

Will tilts his head and gives Rust a playful look. “But this is Creative Artists, right? You guys always say you work together, act together, and take responsibility together. But now? You’re here with me… and drifting away from your little circle. You're not in the loop anymore. Just like this time.” 

“They didn’t tell you, did they?” 

Rust chokes on his words. He knows Will doesn’t respond well to confrontation—you have to go with the flow. But it’s too late for diplomacy now. 

Ding! 

The elevator doors open. Will’s smile grows even wider—unnaturally wide. A chill runs down Rust’s spine. 

Without waiting for another word, Will steps out. His smile vanishes. His eyes blaze with fury. 

“Richard!” 

Will shouts. 

Bang. 

A party popper goes off. 

Bang! Bang! Bang! 

A series of party poppers follow. 

Will freezes. The crowd on both sides of the elevator does too. They had planned a surprise celebration—but now, seeing the stormy-faced Will Smith, everyone is stunned into silence. 

The atmosphere freezes. 

Will’s glare could pierce through steel. He stares down the partygoers like a predator ready to pounce. 

“Where’s Richard?” 

Dead silence. 

Normally, Will is easygoing and friendly. He jokes around, treats everyone kindly, and always brings a fun energy to the office. That’s why his reputation in the industry has stayed golden. 

But this version of Will—fierce and furious—feels like a different person entirely. A walking inferno. Everyone is stunned. 

But Will is in full-blown rage. He doesn’t care about appearances. 

“I said, where’s Richard?” 

“Don’t make me ask a third time.” 

Each word is laced with warning. Finally, someone nervously points toward the office. 

Then someone tries to intervene. “Will, Richard’s in a meeting. Maybe if you—” 

Will steps forward sharply. “A meeting? Ha. You mean welcoming the new golden boy, right? I’ve never seen Creative Artists go this all-out before.” 

As he scans the room, the partygoers scramble to hide their party poppers, balloons, and noisemakers, awkwardly pretending nothing’s happening. 

But the decorations—balloons, streamers, the whole party setup—make it obvious. 

This is a big party. 

The problem? Will Smith wasn’t invited. 

And now the uninvited guest is about to blow the roof off. 

Will scoffs, “Let’s see who’s going to stop me.” 

He glares down the staff in front of him. Rust steps up to try and mediate, but Will shoots him a deadly look. 

Rust raises both hands and steps aside, silently signaling the staff to do the same. Whatever happens, he’ll take responsibility. 

The staff finally parts. Will storms toward the largest office on the floor—Richard Lovett’s, the president of Creative Artists Agency. 

BANG! 

Without pausing, Will slams the door open, like a boulder crashing into still water. His eyes scan the room. His fury hits its peak—and he smiles. 

Rust, who had been following him step by step, wisely stops at the doorway. 

For Will’s sake, he knows his friend wouldn’t want others to witness his total meltdown. And for the execs, they don’t want Rust seeing them at their weakest. 

Rust stays out. That way, he can clean up the mess later. 

Inside, Will’s thunderous voice erupts. Rust watches as the door slowly closes. Around him, everyone quickly looks away. Muffled shouting rumbles behind the glass—it’s like a T. rex is raging inside. 

The whole world feels like it’s shaking. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me! Anson Wood?!” 

Chapter 1623: Worlds Apart 

“You’re all out of your minds! Anson Wood?” 

“What the hell kind of nonsense is this? You’re joking, right?” 

“You signed him? That backstabbing rat—useless, talentless, a clown who spits garbage and has nothing to offer except manipulative games? You sit there pretending we’re still brothers, but the second I turn my back, you plunge a knife right in.” 

“No. No, don’t even try to fool me. I’m not buying it. That’s some dirty, shady stuff, and I won’t let it slide.” 

“Do you seriously not see how he’s been sabotaging me? He stole my weekend box office crown! I bust my ass out there and end up looking like some pathetic joke!” 

“You really don’t get it, do you? All he does is run his mouth and put on that fake-ass smile to con the audience, scheming behind the scenes, even meddling in Sony-Columbia affairs!” 

“No.” 

“No, no, no. A snake like that? You think I can’t see through it?” 

“He’s a disaster, trust me. He’ll be a complete disaster for Creative Artists.” 

Furious beyond reason, Will Smith unleashed a storm of rage, profanity, and street slang. His fury filled every corner of the office like a thundercloud ready to explode. 

Before the news even broke, Will had heard rumors—but he refused to believe them. 

Anson signing with Creative Artists? 

That had to be a sick joke. More absurd than “I, Robot” losing the opening weekend box office to “Spider-Man 2.” 

It should’ve been funny—but Will couldn’t laugh. Not even close. When the official announcement finally dropped, it hit him like a punch in the face. 

He couldn’t believe it. Or rather—he refused to believe it. 

Creative Artists stabbed him in the back. 

So, they’d known all along? From the very start, had they been orchestrating this behind the scenes? 

To his face, they hyped him up, got him to promote “I, Robot” like some kind of circus clown, made him believe he actually had a shot at beating “Spider-Man 2.” 

Behind his back? They were in bed with Anson. Secretly plotting, possibly even laughing at the sight of Will—aging, desperate—clinging to his spotlight. 

He, Will Smith… a joke. 

Just thinking that was enough to send him over the edge. His rage obliterated reason. He wanted answers. He wanted his voice heard. He wanted Creative Artists to feel his wrath. 

He couldn’t believe it had come to this—so humiliated. 

When he stormed into Creative Artists, he saw the people standing on either side of the elevator, and the looks on their faces hit him right in the gut. 

It wasn’t a welcome party for him—that much was obvious. 

Their expressions, their posture… they were watching him fall. Like spectators at a circus, staring at the monkey. 

Worlds apart. 

Sure, Will knew Hollywood was a place of fickle fame, cold, ruthless, ruled only by profit. But still—he wasn’t washed up. He was still a top-tier A-lister, one of the biggest stars in the game. And this was how they treated him? 

They’d thrown him into the dirt—out in the open, under the cold wind, getting covered in dust and shame like a damn clown—while that pretty-boy fraud basked in the full red-carpet treatment from top to bottom of Creative Artists, like some damn king. 

Even by Hollywood standards, this slap in the face was deafening. How was he supposed to keep standing here after this? 

He couldn’t swallow it. 

Richard Loft, president of Creative Artists and the man responsible for day-to-day operations—a guy known for being all smiles and playing peacemaker—tried to calm things down, shifting his seat slightly, leaning forward, and speaking in a gentle tone. 

“Will… it’s just business—” 

He shouldn’t have said that. 

“Business?” “BUSINESS?!” 

Will’s voice cracked two octaves higher. 

“Dude, you’re talking to me about some bullshit business, huh? You were supposed to have my back—no questions asked. You were supposed to help bury those William Morris guys—and now you’re bowing down to that pretty-boy little punk?” 

“You know what he says about me, right?” 

“He calls me a washed-up old man! Says I’ve lost my spark! And you pick now, while we’re going head-to-head, to reach out to him? What do you think the media’s gonna say? What do you think my people are gonna say? You handed my spotlight over to him!” 

“Screw that!” 

“I’m not playing along, I’m not making peace—and I damn sure won’t let that idiot walk all over me.” 

Richard sighed—there was no reasoning with Will right now. 

Next to him, a clean-cut man with a neatly trimmed beard picked up the thread, his voice cool and steady. 

“Will, calm down. This is Hollywood. We need to look at the bigger picture—” 

“The bigger picture?!” Will shrieked like a squawking chicken, every nerve in his body on edge. 

“You wanna talk ‘bigger picture’? All I see is you people lining up to kiss that guy’s ass.” 

“Everything I have, I built with my own two hands—brick by brick, blood, sweat, tears. And now you turn around and worship some talentless idiot who doesn’t even know how to spell ‘performance’? You’ve lost your damn minds. All of you!” 

Silence fell over the office like a heavy fog. 

In Will’s state, any words would be twisted, misunderstood, turned into fuel for his fury. Conversation? Dialogue? Impossible. 

At this point, the best anyone could do was let Will blow off steam—better than clashing head-on and making things worse. Later, maybe, they could pick up the pieces. 

The agents exchanged glances—but no one said a word. 

Besides Richard, the other two were senior Creative Artists executives: 

Bryan Lourd – head of strategic planning across film, television, and talent management. One of the most powerful agents in all of Hollywood. 

Kevin Huvane – focused on talent management, still active on the front lines, known for sharp instincts and flawless client service. The clean-cut man who had just spoken—and the one who, alongside Ari Emanuel, had signed off on Anson’s deal. 

Everyone turned to Kevin—not to throw him under the bus, but because he was the best at handling actors. A professional animal tamer. 

But Kevin stayed silent. He knew Will wouldn’t listen to reason right now. 

Will turned to Kevin too. 

Seeing Kevin's silence—seeing what he took as passivity—Will's rage surged. He stepped forward, slamming his hands on the table so hard it looked like he might flip it at any second. 

“Let me make this clear. It’s him or me. You don’t get to have both.” 

(End of Chapter)