In California, May's sun blazed like a torch. Temperatures had climbed above 30°C, and for Xu Can, it already felt like the height of summer.
Sitting in the dressing room, beads of sweat trickled down his forehead as the stylist fussed over his hair. The heat, combined with the nerves and layers of product, was beginning to wear him down.
"Seriously? Does it need to be this complicated? It's just a premiere," he muttered, half-exasperated.
"Xu, this is our company's first movie," Happy said sternly. "And you're the face of the premiere. Your image must be perfect."
"You're the president of the company. Why are you hovering over my shoulder like a hawk?"
"I'm also your agent. Don't forget that." Happy's expression was a mix of tension and fatigue—it was clear how tightly wound he'd been lately.
This was Galaxy Pictures' first self-produced, self-distributed feature since its founding. It wasn't just a premiere—it was a statement. And that weight bore heavily on Happy's shoulders.
He had never seen anyone take their entire paycheck and dividends from a major hit and throw it all into a brand-new, untested film—especially one in the action-crime genre, and entirely self-financed.
By all logic, Sony should've backed this project. Everyone in the industry knew how highly Sony valued Xu Can. Anything with his name on it would automatically be greenlit with a generous budget.
But Xu Can had refused. He wanted full control—no strings, no compromises.
He was calm. Confident.
Happy, on the other hand, was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. His hair had even started turning gray.
"Don't worry, Happy." Xu Can offered a reassuring smile. "I can guarantee we won't lose money. You've seen the final cut—it's good, isn't it?"
"It's more than good," Happy admitted, wiping sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. "It's incredible. But I'm just worried it might be too niche. It's not exactly mainstream."
Xu Can chuckled. "The audience will decide that soon enough."
The premiere was set for 8:00 p.m. at Galaxy Cinema, the flagship theater owned by Sony. Its IMAX giant screen would showcase John Wick's visual intensity in all its brutal, high-octane glory.
Then, at midnight, the film would officially open across North America.
Due to its R rating, however, the global rollout had to be staggered. Several international regions were still negotiating release schedules.
Just as Xu Can leaned back in his seat, a familiar voice rang out.
"Xu, do you think I look beautiful in this dress?"
He turned, and there stood Emma Stone, radiant in a custom beige evening gown that shimmered subtly under the dressing room lights.
Happy gave her a quick nod, smiled awkwardly, and immediately excused himself—leaving the two of them alone.
"You look incredible," Xu Can said softly. "Absolutely stunning. That dress suits you perfectly."
Emma twirled lightly, her eyes sparkling. "Karl Lagerfeld designed it. I was saving it for a special occasion... but tonight is yours. So I wore it for you."
"Then I owe you something in return tonight."
"You?" she teased. "Who said you'd be the one doing the giving?"
They laughed together, the tension melting between them.
John Wick was set to hit theaters on May 4, right at the tail end of spring. The week after, on May 11, Twilight would debut—Emma's own film, and now its direct box office rival.
The stage was set for a battle not of egos, but of stories—two very different dreams vying for the hearts of audiences.
And yet, despite the competition, there was no bitterness in the air between them.
Only excitement. Hope.
And the quiet thrill of knowing that no matter who came out ahead, their journey—and their dreams—were only just beginning.
Apart from John Wick and Twilight, there truly weren't any other major films contending at the moment.
The fact that Emma Stone wore a custom-designed couture gown to appear at Xu Can's premiere spoke volumes about what he meant to her. She could have reserved such a look for her own red carpet—but tonight, she chose him.
"Come on, it's almost time. Let's make our entrance, my princess," Xu Can said with a smile, extending his hand.
Emma placed her hand delicately in his. "Then lead the way, my prince."
Arm in arm, the two shared a warm glance before stepping out of the lounge and heading toward the luxury car waiting to take them to the premiere.
Happy stood at the door, wiping the sweat off his forehead—again. Watching the pair radiate elegance and chemistry, he couldn't help but mutter, "This dog food is too much… I'm full already."
At the Galaxy Theater…
The venue was already buzzing with energy.
Reporters from all over had arrived early, setting up their "long guns and short cannons"—cameras of every size and shape. News vans were parked out front, their satellite dishes raised. Photographers jostled for the best spots along the red carpet, their lenses trained on the entrance.
Movie fans crowded around, pressing up against barricades, their excitement palpable.
LAPD officers were stationed everywhere, monitoring the restless sea of fans and ensuring the scene stayed under control.
"No way… this Xu Can guy only has one movie under his belt. Why are there so many people?" muttered an older officer over his walkie-talkie.
"Old Mike, you really don't get it," a younger voice responded. "Spider-Man's influence is insane—especially among Gen Z. Xu Can's basically a god to them."
"I'm telling you," chimed in another officer, "I'm a Spider-Man fan myself. I've watched the live-action movie seven times."
"Josh, that's just because you took a different girl each time to impress them," someone teased over the comms.
"All right, enough chatter," barked the sergeant. "Heads up, the motorcade is arriving."
The roar of the crowd surged.
A line of black luxury cars rolled slowly toward the red carpet. As fans erupted into screams, the officers tightened formation, holding the lines steady.
One by one, actors began stepping out—Willem Dafoe, Michael Nyqvist, Alfie Allen—all respected performers, but none were A-listers commanding mass hysteria.
That moment was reserved for the final vehicle.
When the last sleek car pulled up and came to a stop, a ripple of excitement turned into a tidal wave of cheering.
Xu Can stepped out, dressed in a silver tailored suit that shimmered under the theater lights. On his arm was Emma Stone, radiant in her beige gown, their silhouettes glowing against the flash of cameras.
"Xu! Over here, can we get a photo?"
"Xu Can! I love you!"
"Spider-Man! Gwen! Spider-Man and Gwen!"
The fans surged. Some tried to climb over the barricades, forcing officers to hold them back firmly but carefully.
Xu Can, calm and composed, stepped forward and offered a few high-fives to the front row, eliciting more screams.
Then he guided Emma toward the media wall for official photos.
A row of microphones shot toward them.
"Xu! Congratulations on your film's release! What are your expectations at the box office?"
Xu Can gave a modest smile. "Honestly? If it breaks $100 million, I'll be very happy. John Wick is a bit niche, so I don't expect a massive turnout."
Despite the humility in his tone, the projections were already looking promising.
According to early media estimates, John Wick, with its modest $16 million budget, had the potential to gross up to $80 million worldwide. In North America alone, it might rake in $60 million—a stunning figure for an independently funded action film.
And for Xu Can, it wasn't just about box office numbers.
It was about proving a vision. Taking a risk. Making a statement.
Tonight wasn't just a movie premiere.
It was the night dreams began turning into legacy.
Though John Wick was written, directed, and starred in by a rising young actor, many critics dismissed it as a misguided gamble—an outdated genre wrapped in modern gloss.
It wasn't a superhero epic. It wasn't a reboot. It wasn't based on existing IP.
Instead, it was a gritty, original crime-action film—something that hadn't truly thrived since the 1990s. That genre had been labeled passé by Hollywood executives, who believed audiences had grown numb to the aesthetics of urban vengeance and stylized violence.
The New York Times commented bluntly:
"It's admirable for actors to be ambitious. But Xu Can's decision-making might be too radical."
"John Wick is a bold gamble. One with little room for error."
Had he made Spider-Man 2, the critics would have lined up to offer unconditional praise. But Xu Can chose risk over comfort—and Hollywood had buried countless careers that tried the same.
Even Xu Can's own $100 million projection—intended as a humble, cautious estimate—was seen by the media as naïve overconfidence.
But standing beside him, Emma Stone wasn't having any of it.
She leaned into the microphone, her voice calm and full of conviction:
"Believe me—once you've seen it, you'll know that Xu Can's estimate is definitely conservative."
Her boldness caused an uproar among the reporters.
"Emma," one journalist jumped in, sensing an opening, "do you think Twilight, which you're starring in, will outperform John Wick at the box office?"
Emma smiled, amused.
"Yes. But no."
The crowd blinked.
…What?
Was she channeling The Riddler now?
Before they could follow up, Xu Can chuckled and offered his arm. The two turned gracefully and disappeared into the theater, leaving the media puzzled and whispering among themselves.
Inside Galaxy Theater…
Thanks to Xu Can's unmatched influence, tickets for the premiere had sold out a full week in advance.
Fans had camped overnight just to get in.
Among them, a familiar quartet had returned: Leonard, Howard, Sheldon, and Raj—the same group who had watched Spider-Man on opening night.
This time, they weren't taking any chances. They pitched a tent outside the ticket booth and began lining up the night before tickets were released.
The rotation was military-grade. They took turns holding the line, sleeping in shifts, and finally—finally—snagged their golden tickets.
But even afterward, it wasn't easy.
A local gang tried to shake them down, demanding their premiere passes at nearly triple the price. Thankfully, Howard had planned ahead and parked the car near the entrance. He shouted at the others to run, and the group made a narrow escape.
Now safely inside, they took their seats.
"Look! Xu Can's entering!" Leonard whispered. "It's about to start. I'm so hyped!"
"What's there to be excited about?" Sheldon replied dryly. "It's not a comic book adaptation. Action films began declining in the late '90s. Since the early 2000s, they've become increasingly formulaic—no fresh ideas, no narrative—"
Howard shoved a handful of popcorn into Sheldon's mouth.
"Shut up, Sheldon. Say another word and I won't help you build that custom dungeon in World of Warcraft."
Sheldon gagged slightly, then surrendered. "Fine, fine. I'm quiet."
Truthfully, he was curious—genuinely interested to see what Xu Can could deliver with a bold, original theme.
The creative team gave brief opening remarks before taking their seats.
The media box was packed. The auditorium was buzzing. Every seat filled, every voice hushed as the lights dimmed.
Then, the screen flickered to life.
—
For the first time ever, a new studio logo unfolded on the IMAX screen.
A stop-motion animation—crayon-drawn and childlike—depicted a small spaceship clumsily launching into the sky. It sputtered flames, tilted awkwardly… and then suddenly, with a burst of light, shot upward.
In the blink of an eye, the animation transformed.
Crayon turned to glossy 3D render. The ship burst into the cosmos, streaking across the stars with breathtaking speed, like a hyperspace jump straight out of Guardians of the Galaxy.
A colorful spiral galaxy unfolded on screen, stretching across the massive IMAX canvas.
[Produced by Galaxy Pictures]
Leonard couldn't help but let out a low whistle. Even before the film began, the opening animation left the audience stunned.
None of them knew that years later, when people looked back at John Wick, they'd remember this exact moment.
The first time the Galaxy Pictures logo appeared.
This... was where the dream began.
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