Morning, June 9th.
The phone rang just as James sat down with a plate of toast. He reached over, cradled the receiver, and heard a familiar voice he hadn't spoken to in a while.
"James?"
"Aunt Carol. Morning."
"Did everyone enjoy the movie last night?"
"We did, Thank you for the tickets. The staff girl collecting questionnaires looked at me like an idiot, when I told her the director was my nephew."
James held back a laugh.
Carol lowered her voice. "I'll be honest… too much blood. But the kids... oh, they were screaming."
James chuckled. "How's college life going for Mark and Matt?"
"Ask them yourself. They're here."
A shuffle on the other end.
Then a younger, uncertain voice broke in. "Uh… James?"
James sat forward. "Hey, Mark."
His cousin hesitated. "But, man... dude... the movie was insane. I'm taking Jenny tonight. Already been braggin the director's my cousin. You just made me look like a legend." His laugh was almost giddy.
James shook his head, grinning. "You'll owe me if she screams and hugs you."
Mark too giddy, "Deal, Here talk with Matt, He was scared during last jump scare and dropped his popcorn of floor." Voice came from behind, "Shut it Mark."
Matt, "Hey… uh, thanks for the tickets."
James smiled, "Family first, Matt. Always."
Matt stuttering said,"Hmm, I wasn't the only one scared, Matt hugged me during throat kill, Movie was awesome."
Another shuffle of the reciever, His uncle's steady voice came through. "James, it's Bill. Um… how are you holding up? Eating alright?"
James blinked, caught off guard, then smiled. "I'm fine, Uncle Bill. It's tiring work but it's good. Real good."
There was a pause, as if Bill wanted to say more, but he only added, "Well… we're proud. Call back if you need anything."
Carol came back on the line. "We'll let you go, sweetheart. But you did good. Better than we expected."
James smiled promising he'd visit soon, then hung up.
Fantasy Pictures Office, June 11th.
Linda's pencil tapped against her notebook, A folded stack of newspapers sat untouched on James's desk.
Linda finally nudged it toward him. "You're not even going to look?"
James shook his head. "You first, Let me guess critics hated it?"
She pulled one free,"You don't want to know."
"Read it anyway."
Linda cleared her throat, putting on a mocking tone. "Friday the 13th delivers cheap shocks and buckets of blood, but little else. A joyless parade of corpses... Los Angeles Times."
James laughed, leaning back in his chair. "Joyless parade of corpses. We should put it on the poster."
Linda frowned. "James, they're tearing you apart. Listen to this one." She grabbed another. "'A cynical exercise in exploitation. Predictable, poorly acted, and empty....Variety."
"Perfect. That's exactly what our Audience want,
They're not coming for Shakespeare."
Linda threw the paper down. "You're impossible."
The phone rang. She snatched it up before James could. "Fantasy Pictures." She paused, then covered the receiver. "It's Paul."
James rolled his eyes. "Of course it is."
She handed it over.
Paul's voice burst through the line. "James! How bad? Tell me the numbers. Did we tank?"
James pinched the bridge of his nose. "Paul, we don't get numbers until the week wraps. Stop calling every day."
"But..."
"Goodbye, Paul." James hung up before he could protest.
The phone rang again five minutes later. Linda picked up, sighed, then passed it to James.
Jerry's voice this time. "James, my man! You holding out on us? The streets are talking...what's it at?"
James groaned. "Jerry. We'll know Friday. Same as you."
Jerry laughed. "Bet you've got a guy slipping you the dailies."
"Wish I did, Call me after Friday." James hung up again, setting the receiver down like it was dangerous.
Linda smirked. "You could've just let me handle those."
"They'll never believe you."
She leaned back in her chair. "So you really don't care what the critics say?"
James shook his head. "I care about box office, not reviews. Critics killed Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and it still made a fortune.
Linda nodded slowly. "You really think it's going to hit."
"Yeah. I do."
The week had passed, James and cast busy with promotion in L.A. Theatre's campaigns, Q&A with Audience, Interview with T.V talk shows and newspapers reporters, Critics mixed in sometimes making snide comments.
Fantasy Pictures Office, June 16th.
James buried himself in writing scripts, even rearranging the filing cabinet.
That morning, the phone rang again. Linda grabbed it, half-expecting another impatient friend. She pressed the receiver to her shoulder. "It's Paramount."
James set down his coffee, "Put them through."
She slid the phone across the desk.
"James?" The voice on the other end was Harvey Cohen.
"Speaking."
"We've got your first week. Friday the 13th grossed just over eight million. That's about two million higher than projections."
James sat back slowly, letting the number sink in. Eight million. One week.
Harvey continued. "We're expanding. Another two-fifty screens starting next Friday. Momentum's strong, we'd be stupid not to ride it."
James found his voice. "Good. Very good."
"That's all for now. You'll get the paperwork Monday. Enjoy your weekend."
Harvey hung up.
James lowered the receiver gently. For a moment, he just stared at it.
Linda was already leaning forward. "Well?"
He looked up at her, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Eight million. First week."
Her pencil slipped from her hand, clattering against the desk. "You're joking."
He shook his head. "And they're adding two-fifty screens next weekend."
For a second, Linda just blinked, "Eight million… That's insane."
"James… you actually did it."
James couldn't hold back anymore and started waving his clenched fist and screaming.
He finally spoke, "We've got a hit."
Then Linda grabbed the phone, grinning as she dialed. "I'm calling Paul before he drives us both crazy."
James just sat there grinning like an idiot, the number echoing in his head. Eight million. Two hundred fifty more screens.
Linda grinned as she dialed Paul first.
He picked up fast it was like he'd been waiting beside the phone.
"Well? Don't drag it out..."
"Eight million," Linda said flatly.
Paul whooped so loud James could hear it from across the desk. "I told you, James! I told you it was gold."
Linda laughed and hung up before he could spiral into another rant.
She dialed Jerry next.
He answered mid-breath, "Tell me, tell me."
"Eight million. First week."
Jerry whistled low. "Jesus. We're going to be Famous."
Linda rolled her eyes but couldn't help smiling. She set the receiver back in place.
It took half and hour for both of them to calm down.