Tycoon Actor C471

As Lucas stepped onto the event floor—lined with gold plaques and flashing lights—he was immediately swarmed by a wall of reporters. Microphones shot toward him like arrows, voices overlapping in a storm of questions.

Emma, standing beside him for a moment, gave him a sympathetic glance before quietly murmuring, “Sorry,” and slipping away through the crowd like a ghost.

Lucas was left alone, a polite but exhausted smile on his face.

‘This is exactly why I didn’t want to come,’ he thought. ‘They’re relentless.’

“Lucas! YouTube Rewind hit over 100 million views since your cameo! How do you feel about that?”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” he said with a smirk. “I mean, I was in it.”

The crowd of reporters chuckled lightly, the tension easing just a bit.

“What made you agree to be in Rewind this time?”

“I lost a bet.”

A few laughs rippled through the press.

“Were you involved in choosing the songs? They were amazing!”

“I might’ve hummed something in the shower and accidentally submitted it,” he replied with a grin.

“What about your screen time? Some fans say it was too short.”

“Short and sweet. Just like my patience today,” he quipped, prompting more laughter.

More laughter. Then the conversation took a sharp turn.

“Lucas, about the Marvel rumors—some leaked photos suggest you might be playing Spider-Man... or maybe Deadpool? Are you replacing either of them?”

Lucas chuckled, lifting a brow. “Photoshop’s getting really good these days, huh?”

“Can you confirm or deny anything?”

Lucas raised an eyebrow and gave them a mysterious smile. “If I told you, a bunch of Marvel lawyers would descend from the ceiling right now.”

The crowd broke into laughter, some still shouting questions as he gently excused himself and made his way toward the other guests—Emma already waiting with a glass in hand.

“Handled it?” she asked.

Lucas nodded. “Barely. I think I earned my dessert.”

As they made their way down the event floor, the atmosphere was electric—celebrities mingled, cameras flashed, and interviews unfolded left and right. Glamour and chatter filled the air like static.

Before long, they were stopped by two reporters for a brief on-camera interview. Thankfully, it was a lighter interaction—no microphone ambush this time, just a few polite questions and practiced smiles.

Then, suddenly—

A blur of black fabric rushed toward Lucas and wrapped him in a surprise hug.

He blinked, momentarily stunned. “Oh—hey. If it isn’t little Bonnie. How’s it been?”

Emma tilted her head. “Wait… is that—?”

The girl pulled back, revealing her smile.

“Millie Bobby Brown,” Emma said with a small laugh. “Stranger Things’ star.”

Lucas nodded. “Yeah. I invested in the series early on. Helped produce it too.”

“He even did a cameo in the first season,” Millie added cheerfully, still beaming.

Emma turned to Lucas, brow raised. “Right… I keep forgetting how many things you’re secretly involved in.”

She chuckled. “You’re not just an actor. You’re practically a one-man studio.”

Lucas gave a nonchalant shrug. “I get bored easily.”

Just then, the two reporters—who had momentarily faded into the background—leaned forward, their mics now aimed at Millie.

“You seem very close to Lucas,” one of them noted with a teasing smile.

Millie froze mid-smile. Realizing she was still hugging him a little too tightly, she let go and quickly stepped back.

“Uh—no, not really. I mean, I just admire him. A lot. That’s all,” she said, flustered.

But the reporters had already gotten what they wanted: a perfect, photogenic moment. Flashbulbs popped as they exchanged knowing glances.

Cameras flashed, catching every moment. The smirks on the reporters’ faces said it all.

Lucas gave a long, slow smile—measured and amused.

He looked at the reporter and said lightly, “Wow. You guys really out here trying to turn a hug into a headline?”

He tilted his head, voice calm. “You know, some people see affection and think ‘that’s sweet.’ Others see it and think ‘how can I sell this with just enough creep in the caption?’ Guess which one you are?”

There was a slight pause—just long enough for the jab to land—before he added with a grin, “Don’t worry. If it helps you sleep at night, I promise it wasn’t a scandal—just human interaction.”

The second reporter tried to recover, “Still, it’s not every day we see a moment like that.”

Lucas nodded, straight-faced. “True. Most people don’t hug their producers unless they’ve actually had a good experience. You should try it sometime—when you’re not busy twisting context.”

Emma stifled a laugh. Millie’s eyes widened slightly—equal parts impressed and relieved.

As the reporters backed off, Lucas offered a final line with a smile: “Write whatever you want. Just don’t forget to include the part where I called you out.”

The reporters exchanged glances, clearly rattled.
‘Damn. Didn’t expect him to clap back like that…’

Without another word, they awkwardly dispersed.

Emma and Millie, both stunned for a beat, glanced at each other—then burst into quiet laughter.

Emma nudged Lucas with her elbow. “Oh my gosh. That was savage. I really hope they print your ‘rant.’”

Lucas arched a brow. “It wasn’t a rant. Just a reminder that basic decency doesn’t go out of style.”

Millie, still grinning, said, “Thank you… for stepping in like that.”

Lucas gave her a soft smile. “Don’t worry about it, kid. This industry’s got its vultures—always circling, ready to twist something sweet into something creepy.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Filthy minds.”

Lucas shrugged. “They’re not beyond saving.”

Emma raised a brow. “Oh? Enlighten us.”

“Lobotomy,” Lucas deadpanned.

Emma and Millie burst out laughing, Emma swatting his arm. “That’s awful!”

Lucas chuckled. “Effective, though.”

They continued through the venue, light-hearted again. Just ahead, Oprah Winfrey caught sight of them and approached with grace.

“Long time no see,” Oprah said warmly.

Lucas greeted her with a respectful nod. “Always a pleasure, Ms. Winfrey.”

They chatted briefly, exchanging pleasantries and light updates. After a few minutes, Lucas moved on, making his rounds with other industry veterans like Meryl Streep—each meeting brief but sincere.

Then came Saoirse Ronan, slightly flustered.
“Gosh, the reporters were relentless with me,” she said. “They kept hammering me about the Marvel movie we did.”

Lucas smirked. “Next time they crowd you, just look them in the eye and say, ‘I signed an NDA so tight even my dreams have redacted subtitles.’”

Saoirse burst out laughing. “That’s horrible advice... I love it.”

Not far off, a young Timothée Chalamet watched Lucas from across the room, hesitating. He was rarely shy, always confident—but now, standing before the man he admired not just for acting but his charitable work, he felt like a nervous teen in a coming-of-age film.

Eventually, mustering his courage, he walked over.
“Hi,” he said, trying not to sound breathless.

Lucas turned, curious. “Hey.”

“I’m a big fan. Timothée Chalamet. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Lucas nodded, his memory catching up. ‘Ah... this kid. The future golden boy.’

He smiled genuinely. “Pleasure’s mine. I’ve heard great things—your passion shows, even from a distance.”

Timothée looked like he was trying not to grin too wide.

Yet despite the praise, Timothée wondered if Lucas was just trying to be polite. That was, until Lucas casually added, “By the way, I watched Call Me by Your Name. You were phenomenal. It’s no surprise you're nominated for Best Actor in a Drama.”

Timothée’s eyes widened. “You… you knew that?”

Lucas smiled. “I’m not just an actor or a businessman, Timothée. I keep an eye on the industry—especially on rising talent. You’re not just promising. You’re the real deal.” He added, “Stick with the passion, and you'll go further than you think.”

Timothée’s eyes shimmered slightly, moved by the unexpected sincerity. He reached out and shook Lucas's hand, gripping it tightly. “I… I’ll do my best. Thank you. That means everything.”

“Good. Just don’t let them change you,” Lucas said with a nod.

Timothée walked off, shoulders lighter and steps springier, his nervousness replaced with pride. Lucas watched him go with a quiet smile.

Soon after, the call was made for everyone to head inside. The Golden Globes ceremony was moments away.

Lucas and Emma made their way to their seats in the film section. Just a row ahead sat James Franco.

Lucas gave him a polite nod. James returned it, though his expression was complicated. ‘This is the kid who took my 127 Hours role… Back then, he was just a name on a shortlist. Now he’s someone even I look up to.’

The director next to him nudged his arm, and James turned his focus back to the stage as the lights began to dim and the live ceremony of the 75th Golden Globe Awards officially began.

The show began with an opening monologue, and the first awards were quickly underway.

Best Supporting Actor went to Sam Rockwell for Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri.

Lucas applauded warmly, watching Sam’s speech with a quiet, respectful smile.

The award for Best Original Score went to The Shape of Water. The ceremony moved briskly through categories—Best Screenplay, Best Supporting Actor, and others came and went in flashes of applause and short speeches.

Then came the announcement for:

Best Performance by an Actress in a Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy.

The camera panned across the nominees, lingering longer on Emma Stone. Her smile was calm, but Lucas could see the slight nerves in her eyes.

“And the Golden Globe goes to… Emma Stone!”

The room erupted in applause. Emma’s eyes lit up. She leaned in, hugging Lucas and Damien warmly before making her way to the stage.

At the podium, she beamed at the crowd. “I want to thank the incredible crew, the brilliant Damien Chazelle for being a dream to work with, and of course—Lucas.”

She glanced back at him. “Who, by the way, spent weeks pretending to be worse at dancing than he actually was… just to make me feel better during rehearsals.”

Laughter rippled through the room.

“For two months, we danced until our knees gave out,” Emma said with a smile. “La La Land made it look dreamy, but let me tell you—it’s hard to look dreamy when you’re icing swollen ankles and watching Lucas pretend to struggle just to make me feel better.”

More laughter. Emma closed with sincerity and grace, then returned to her seat.

Next up:

Best Performance by an Actor in a Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy.

The nominees were called.

James Franco sat still, his jaw tight as his name echoed through the speakers. Then came—

“Lucas Knight.”

There was a polite round of applause. Lucas shifted slightly, still and unreadable.

The envelope was opened.

“And the Golden Globe goes to… Lucas Knight – La La Land.”

The room broke into cheers.

James Franco clapped, but his eyes stayed sharp. His fingers briefly clenched the fabric of his tuxedo trousers. The director beside him noticed and sighed quietly.

Lucas stood, adjusted his jacket, and made his way to the stage with practiced calm.

He took the trophy, glanced at the crowd, then leaned into the mic with a smirk.
“I’d like to thank everyone who made this possible… especially me.”

Laughter.

“Seriously though, I want to thank Damien for believing I could fake being a jazz pianist and not trip over my own feet in front of Emma Stone. To Emma—for making me laugh when I was exhausted. And to everyone else in the room… thanks for clapping even if you were rooting for someone else.”

More laughter and applause. Lucas gave a final nod and stepped off the stage.

As he returned to his seat, more categories passed.

Then came the final award in their category:

Best Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy.

The tension was thick as the nominees were listed. Lucas caught Damien clasping his hands together in a quiet, hopeful gesture.

“And the Golden Globe goes to… La La Land!”

Cheers. Damien let out a quiet exhale, smiling wide.

He stood with the producers, making their way to the stage. Lucas clapped along, proud but keeping back slightly.