"So, it's settled then..."
It was clear from Michael's tone that he was wrapping things up, signaling the end of the meeting. Sam quickly looked up at Amy and Ian, only to find them both remaining silent.
Should he be disappointed?
Honestly, he had anticipated this. When faced with real interests, they were all insignificant—himself, Anson, even Leonardo DiCaprio or Tom Cruise—none of them could stand against capital. In front of the powers that be, they were all just ants.
Yet knowing this, even sensing the impending doom moments before, why was he still so furious?
An uncontrollable rage.
Sam recalled the past few months, the countless emails exchanged with Anson, the discussions about the characters and the plot, and the way they meticulously crafted this movie, piece by piece.
He also remembered Anson's dedication since filming began. If it weren't for his insistence that Anson personally perform his stunts, if it weren't for his demand for authenticity in capturing the actors' real emotions and essence, Anson wouldn't have taken the risk, and the accident wouldn't have happened.
Now, while Anson lay on a hospital bed, enduring pain and struggling to recover, no one at Sony-Columbia seemed concerned about his condition. Instead, they were discussing how to replace him.
A cold shiver ran from Sam's feet to the top of his head, exploding like a shockwave.
Michael's unhurried voice droned on in the background, and though the tone was emotionless, it felt so cold, so sharp.
Finally, Sam could no longer control himself—
Bang.
He stood up suddenly, his chair tipping over with a loud crash, echoing through the small room like thunder.
"If you replace Anson, I'll quit the project too."
A bombshell.
Without waiting for a response, Sam turned, pushed open the meeting room door, and stormed out, his breaths heavy, his anger palpable.
Sam knew it was the heat of the moment talking. He also knew that neither he nor Anson could stand up to the studio. Even so, he didn't care.
This was the only way he could show his backbone.
When they were revising the script, Sam had already been holding in a lot of frustration. Deep down, he knew Anson was right, but Sony-Columbia had their own agenda. They refused to compromise on the female lead's character, and that left Sam with a bitter taste, knowing the movie could be better but wouldn't be made the way they envisioned.
That feeling was awful.
Now, facing a similar situation again, Sam knew he might regret it once he cooled down. After all, if Sony-Columbia didn't care about Anson, why would they care about him? But he couldn't just stay there, pretending everything was fine, when it was eating away at him. Even if he stayed, he wouldn't find peace.
Leaving meant regret, staying meant regret—so why not do what felt right?
At least it felt liberating.
He let out a long sigh, the weight on his chest finally lifting.
Sam straightened his back and walked more confidently. The tension in the room he left behind was thick, a suffocating silence spreading.
Michael felt a dull throbbing in his temple but managed to keep his cool, shrugging as if it didn't matter.
"Well, I guess I didn't prepare well enough. I should've made a backup list of directors. Next time, I'll be better prepared."
It was a joke, a light attempt to break the tension.
But it didn't work this time.
Laura merely gave Michael a knowing smile. "I think we've got a lot... a lot of work ahead of us."
Her words hung in the air, loaded with meaning but left unsaid.
The meeting didn't continue. It ended there.
For Michael, replacing the actor and the director wasn't a problem. Sure, Sam quitting might stir up some opposition from the board. After all, Amy had personally approved Sam's contract renewal, and the board had also signed off on it. The renewal was done even before the release of Spider-Man a month ago, so Michael would need to do some convincing. But he didn't think it was an impossible task.
Sam Raimi wasn't Steven Spielberg or James Cameron—even top directors like them weren't above producers and studios. That's why those directors often doubled as producers. In Hollywood, the producer's authority is at the core of any film project.
Replacing Anson and Sam would fully erase Amy's mark on Spider-Man 2, paving the way for Michael to take full control of this major project.
But it wasn't that simple.
At this delicate moment, replacing Anson was already pushing public tolerance. Sony-Columbia would need a flawless PR strategy to navigate this. If the director quit too, the studio would be seen as heartless and could face a massive backlash.
One misstep, and Spider-Man 2 could go from highly anticipated to universally hated, with audiences potentially boycotting the film.
On moral grounds, Sony-Columbia would be in a tight spot.
So, even though Michael would love to see both Sam and Anson gone, his rational mind pulled him back from the edge—he couldn't take that risk.
If Michael were going to take such a gamble, he'd need a much more solid plan, or else it would end in disaster.
Sam, risking his career, had won a small glimmer of hope for Anson. But that hope remained fragile and slim. Sony-Columbia still held the upper hand.
It was like hitting a rock with an egg. Everyone knew it was foolish, yet in real life, miracles sometimes required that kind of spirit. Without it, they wouldn't be called miracles.
On one side, Sam had just dropped a bombshell, barely giving Amy room to maneuver.
On the other side, Sony-Columbia still made the call to the backup actors—
Under the guise of Plan B.
"We're not replacing Anson, just preparing for the possibility. If Anson can't return to set in time, we don't want the project to come to a halt."
Neither Amy nor Sam could argue with such a reasonable excuse. Even if the media caught wind of it, Sony-Columbia could stand tall.
The key was that Sony-Columbia's secrecy was airtight. They kept everything as low-profile and confidential as possible, avoiding any leaks.
So, was this a guilty conscience?
One accident had stirred up a storm, muddying everything and making the waters murky and chaotic, with noise and clamor everywhere.
The storm was brewing.
Now came the moment of truth—who would be the first to get the inside scoop?