Chapter 25: Dragging It Out.
The final bell rang. Ryan sprinted out of the classroom like he was running the hundred-meter dash. He yanked open his locker while the hallway was still empty, grabbed his bag, and bolted for the school gate as if a thousand monsters were chasing him.
These damn kids are worse than the reporters and paparazzi combined! Ryan's face was pure exhaustion. Today had not been fun.
He jumped into the SUV, slammed the door, and finally let out a long breath. He snatched the juice box Pat Kingsley had ready and downed half of it in one go.
"What happened, Ryan?" Pat asked, curious. "You look wiped out."
"Don't even ask, Pat." Ryan pulled a face, still haunted by the morning's mob scene.
"Those little monsters are terrifying. I swear I can still hear ten thousand crows cawing in my ears."
"Little monsters?" Pat laughed once they were on the main road. "Want me to have a word with the school?"
"Could you?" When Pat nodded, Ryan relaxed for the first time all day. "That would be amazing."
Back at the apartment, Ryan tossed his bag aside and collapsed onto the long sofa. He leaned sideways until his head rested against Nicole. She set down the script she had been reading and gently rubbed his temple.
"Thanks for picking him up, Pat," she said.
"No trouble at all. It's part of the job." Pat noticed the script on the coffee table. "Is that… one of Ryan's new screenplays?"
"Yes." Nicole nodded and slid it toward her. "A love story, of all things. Heaven knows what's going on in that head of his."
A black sedan pulled up outside. Carter Eisner glanced at Chris Columbus in the passenger seat. "No phone call, no appointment—we're just showing up like this? God knows if they're even home."
"See those reporters?" Chris pointed at a couple of guys with cameras loitering nearby. "If they're camped out here, at least one of them—Nicole Kidman or Ryan Jenkins—has to be inside."
"Fine. I must be losing my mind."
"Relax." Chris chuckled and opened his door. "You saw the same story collection I did. You know exactly how valuable it is."
Ryan changed out of his ugly school uniform and walked back into the living room, only to find unexpected guests. One man he didn't recognize. The other looked vaguely familiar.
"Ryan, these gentlemen are here to see you," Nicole said. "This is Carter Eisner, head of film at Touchstone Pictures. And this is director Chris Columbus."
After quick greetings, Ryan sat beside Nicole. He finally placed the familiar face—Chris Columbus had directed the first two Harry Potter films in his previous life as Alex. Interesting. History really does have a strong pull.
"Ryan, we came because Chris and I are very interested in one of the novellas in your story collection," Carter said, getting straight to the point.
"Home Alone," Chris added. He pulled the book from his briefcase. "I want to adapt it into a movie."
"I see." Ryan pinched his fingers together, looking thoughtful.
"Is there a problem?" Carter asked.
"I've actually been turning Home Alone into a screenplay. I'm more than halfway done, so I can't sell the adaptation rights." As Ryan spoke, Nicole barely managed to stop herself from rolling her eyes. The little liar had finished both Home Alone and the other script at the same time.
Carter and Chris exchanged a quick glance and smiled. They had already planned to ask Ryan to write the screenplay himself. Hearing he had already started was perfect news.
"Actually, Ryan, we were hoping you would write the adaptation," Carter said. "It's your story—no one understands it better. After The Sixth Sense, I don't think anyone doubts your screenwriting talent." He kept the second part to himself: a super-genius kid's second film would be incredible publicity.
After a quiet word with Chris, Carter continued, "We'd also like to offer you the role of Kevin."
Ryan suddenly grinned. He had assumed Chris would try to cast the greedy friend's son from his previous life. In that case he would never have sold the rights—even though the story had always been meant for him.
"Alright," he said. "I agree in principle. You can work out the details with Pat."
Carter and Chris looked at Nicole. This still needed guardian approval.
"Ryan can decide his own projects," Nicole said simply.
The conversation should have ended there, but Carter had already spotted the script on the corner of the coffee table. After a few glances he was sure it was a screenplay—he just didn't know whose.
As a businessman, thick skin came with the territory. He cleared his throat and pointed. "Is that the finished Home Alone screenplay, Ryan?"
Everyone's faces went blank at the terrible excuse.
"No, that's a new script I wrote for Nicole," Ryan answered casually, as if writing screenplays was no different from eating or drinking.
"Could… I take a look?"
"Sure." Ryan handed it over without hesitation.
Carter had expected another child-centered story like The Sixth Sense or Home Alone. Instead, after flipping a few pages, his eyes widened. This was a full-blown romance!
"This… this is astonishing." After a long silence, Carter closed the script. The others immediately turned to him.
"Ryan…" Carter seemed at a loss for words.
"I know what you're thinking, Mr. Eisner,"
Ryan said lightly. "How could a ten-year-old understand love? Honestly, I don't—not really. Everything I know came from television and movies. So I took a clever shortcut and borrowed heavily from An Affair to Remember. The whole story is woven around it. The final meeting at the Empire State Building is my way of fulfilling the promise from that older film."
"It's brilliant. Truly moving," Carter said, eyes shining. "Ryan, would you consider letting Touchstone produce this?"
Ryan shrugged and glanced at Nicole. "Sleepless in Seattle belongs to Nicole now. She decides what happens with it."
Truthfully, Nicole wasn't the most obvious fit—she was too cool and elegant compared to Meg Ryan or Julia Roberts. But she also had advantages: far stronger acting than in her previous life, her tall figure, and striking looks.
Ryan had already tweaked the female lead to match her exactly and drawn dozens of storyboards based on her. Sleepless in Seattle wasn't a typical rom-com anyway—it was more laughter through tears. With the acting Nicole had shown in The Sixth Sense, it should work perfectly.
Two big hits with strong reviews would let Nicole stand firmly on her own in Hollywood. She wouldn't have to grind through forgettable films just to escape being known only as "Tom Cruise's wife."
There was no rush. It was still only 1990. To put Nicole at the absolute top, she first needed the right résumé.
Even though no deal had been made with Nicole yet, Carter and Chris left the apartment smiling—they had secured Home Alone. Besides, the new script wasn't public. They still had a chance.
They had no idea a long, exhausting negotiation was waiting for them.
"Pat, drag out the talks with Touchstone as long as possible," Ryan said after the visitors left. "Don't agree to anything until The Sixth Sense finishes its run."
Nicole and Pat were both smart. It took them only a second to understand. They broke into bright, knowing smiles.
By June, with schools across America on summer break, the hottest season of the year kicked off. Even though The Sixth Sense was playing in half as many theaters, it remained many people's first choice. The box office was no longer exploding, but it kept climbing steadily.
The film had silenced every doubter. No one had expected a family drama wrapped in a thriller package to earn such praise—or such money. Compared to the returns, Miramax's twenty-million-dollar investment looked like pocket change.
Harvey Weinstein beamed during every interview. "This is a masterpiece, no question. David, Al, Nicole, and Ryan all did phenomenal work. What about Ryan? Yes! The first time I met him I knew he was a super genius. No one could have done it better. And of course we'll keep working together. Having him write scripts is a dream—nobody can predict what crazy idea will pop out of that head next."