Chapter 174 – Playing It This Big
Bram Stoker's Dracula was breathtaking in its costume design and art direction, giving the entire film an almost obsessively romantic, aestheticist tone.
Yet its core theme felt somewhat familiar—lacking true depth—relying instead on lavish, mysterious, nearly decadent imagery to tell a grand love story that claimed to transcend all boundaries.
"Gary Oldman's performance is definitely something else,"
Aaron murmured in the darkness of the theater, leaning toward Winona Ryder beside him.
"By the way, Martin Scorsese's The Age of Innocence has wrapped filming on your end, hasn't it?"
As he spoke, Aaron casually slid his hand onto her thigh.
"It has," Winona replied softly. "Dracula will be opening in North America soon. You'll be heading back to the States as well, right?"
"Of course," Aaron nodded.
Though the film still had a full slate of promotional events ahead, his return wasn't for Columbia's sake—Dracula wasn't Dawnlight's release. He was heading back for his own company's projects.
"Look," Aaron added with a smile, "your look in the film is stunning."
On screen, Winona's character radiated a luminous, classical beauty—pure, haunting, unforgettable.
"…When the premiere banquet's over," she whispered, her voice tinged with anticipation,
"let's go back to the hotel together."
---
Later That Night — Savoy Hotel, London
In the hotel suite, Winona clung tightly to Aaron, breathless, letting out a sharp cry before collapsing against him.
"Aaron… are you always this incredible?"
He rolled onto his side, exhaling slowly, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Didn't you already get your answer?"
Propping himself up, he watched her chest rise and fall with each breath, his hand wandering idly.
"Dracula is going wide next," he said calmly.
"There'll be a lot of promotional work. Sony Columbia is putting serious weight behind it."
Winona nodded.
"And Reality Bites—spring release. It's my first time serving as a producer. I've been closely involved with the editing."
"When it comes out," she asked, "Dawnlight will support it properly, right?"
Aaron leaned closer, his voice low and reassuring.
"Of course. You're the face of the film—marketing alone makes it worth the push. Dawnlight will put in the necessary resources."
"And during the promotion," he added with a grin,
"I can stay with you a bit longer."
Winona laughed softly.
"But Scent of a Woman is about to be released too. Won't you need me helping with that?"
"Absolutely," Aaron said, brushing a kiss against her ear.
"But Scent of a Woman is far more artistic—its release strategy is nothing like a commercial spectacle such as Dracula."
She pressed closer, her voice teasing.
"Still not done?"
"You tell me," Aaron replied, pulling her against his chest.
"Darling, I'm not anywhere near finished."
Winona glanced at him, ran a hand through her hair—
then disappeared beneath the covers.
---
Box Office Aftermath
Following its UK debut, Bram Stoker's Dracula quickly rolled out across North America.
Opening in 2,491 theaters, the film earned $30.52 million over its first three days.
Critical reception was strong as well. Many hailed it as one of the greatest vampire films ever made—
a triumph elevated by Francis Ford Coppola's direction, Gary Oldman's performance, and Winona Ryder's presence.
Together, they gave the film an undeniable, lasting impact.
Evening, Los Angeles — Inglewood, The Great Western Forum.
During a regular-season game of the 1992–1993 NBA season, Aaron and Jack sat courtside, watching the Los Angeles Lakers host the Seattle SuperSonics.
"Did you watch the Dream Team play at the Barcelona Olympics in July?" Jack asked.
Aaron nodded. "I watched it live."
As he spoke, Aaron's eyes remained fixed on the court, his thoughts drifting.
Last year, Magic Johnson had retired after announcing his HIV diagnosis.
This offseason, Larry Bird had also officially called it quits.
The era of the black-and-white duo was over.
Now, the undisputed king of the league was Michael Jordan, who had already led the Bulls to back-to-back championships.
"Jack," Aaron said slowly, rubbing his chin, "I think I should own a team."
Jack froze for a moment. "Don't tell me this idea came from seeing Disney and a few partners start the NHL team, the Anaheim Mighty Ducks?"
Disney's creation of the Mighty Ducks wasn't just about promoting Disneyland Anaheim—it was also tied to the success of their film The Mighty Ducks.
Los Angeles already had an NHL team as well: the Los Angeles Kings, who also played at the Great Western Forum.
Aaron shook his head.
"Don't you see? Sports investments are solid right now. The four major North American leagues are all worth getting into."
Los Angeles alone had plenty of teams.
In the NBA, there were the Lakers and the Clippers, playing at the Great Western Forum and the Memorial Sports Arena respectively.
The NFL featured the Los Angeles Raiders and the Los Angeles Rams, with home fields at the Memorial Coliseum and Anaheim Stadium.
Major League Baseball had the Dodgers and the Angels—Disney even held a minority stake in the Angels, whose move to Anaheim had required considerable coordination.
"None of the Los Angeles teams are likely to be for sale," Jack said, shaking his head.
"And you know the Clippers' owner, Donald Sterling—infamous reputation, cheap, sleazy."
"He's already struck a deal with the Mighty Ducks. Next year, the Clippers will move their home games from the Memorial Sports Arena to Anaheim's Honda Center. The two teams will share the venue."
Leaning back in his seat, Aaron said calmly, "If Los Angeles doesn't work, we can look at other major cities."
A commercial hub like Los Angeles would never lack wealthy investors.
"Or," Aaron added casually, "we could just build our own arena."
"Pfft—" Jack nearly spat out his soda.
"Aaron, do you really have to go that big?"
"If we can't buy a team in LA, we'll buy one somewhere else," Aaron said, scrunching his nose slightly.
"Let's find some time to meet Jerry Buss and Donald Sterling first—see if there's even a chance they'd consider selling."
As for the NFL, that would be even harder. After all, it was North America's most lucrative sport.
By comparison, basketball and hockey teams were far easier to acquire.
Football and baseball franchises, on the other hand, were notoriously difficult to buy.