Landon drove into the garage of the Sherman Oaks villa with a faint sense of anticipation.
The day's filming had been mentally exhausting, but the thought of the news Tracy might bring back seemed to wash away much of his fatigue with a surge of excitement.
Pushing open the front door, dinner was already prepared.
The sounds of Tracy and Rachel chatting and laughing came from the living room, sounding relaxed and cheerful.
"Landon! You're back!" Rachel was the first to notice him, happily rushing over to take his coat and skillfully hanging it on the rack before pushing him by the back toward the bathroom.
"Go get cleaned up, we're just waiting for you to eat!"
Landon smiled and let her push him into the bathroom, taking a quick shower to wash away the exhaustion from the set.
When he walked into the dining room wearing comfortable loungewear, the long dining table was already set with utensils. In the center was a large platter of spaghetti bolognese, accompanied by roasted vegetables, garlic bread, and an already opened bottle of red wine.
"Wow, this looks great." Landon sat down at the table, his gaze falling on Rachel as she set down the salad bowl.
Sometimes strange thoughts would pop into his head: Rachel was clearly Canadian, so why did she seem so skilled at making Italian-style food? Was it talent, or had she specifically learned it?
However, as a man lucky enough to enjoy good food, he never delved too deeply into such questions.
As long as someone was willing to cook for him and did it well, he was grateful and never stingy with his praise.
"Try it quickly; I tried adding a bit more spice today." Rachel looked at him expectantly.
Landon twirled a forkful of noodles into his mouth. The rich meat sauce, the perfect amount of spices, the al dente pasta... He gave a thumbs up and praised her sincerely, "It's fantastic!"
Rachel smiled contentedly, her eyes curving into crescents.
Tracy sat down as well, wearing a soft beige knit sweater with her long hair loosely tied up.
She poured red wine for the three of them before they began their meal.
Dinner proceeded in a relaxed atmosphere.
The three of them chatted about daily trifles; Rachel talked about some funny incidents from her acting class, and Landon briefly mentioned the challenges of filming today's major scene.
But there was always a sense of anticipation in the room; all three knew the highlight of this dinner was yet to come.
Sure enough, when the main course was almost finished, Tracy put down her fork, picked up a napkin, naturally leaned over, and gently wiped away a bit of meat sauce that Landon had accidentally gotten on the corner of his mouth.
Then she got down to business.
"About the fast and the furious," Tracy's voice rang out, "I've followed up on the situation with WMA. The maneuvering is a bit more complicated than expected."
Landon also put down his utensils and listened intently.
"Your main competitor, Paul Walker, is primarily represented by CAA (Creative Artists Agency)." Tracy picked up her wine glass and swirled it gently.
"He started gaining attention with last year's film, *The Skulls*, and has a certain teen audience base. The most disadvantageous point for us is that the originator and core producer of the fast and the furious, Neal H. Moritz, is also a CAA client."
Landon frowned slightly. He understood what that meant.
In Hollywood, internal resource tilting within agencies and bundled recommendations between clients are common.
CAA was likely more inclined to push another of its clients (Paul Walker) to work with its producer client (Neal Moritz), creating a tighter bond of interest internally.
"However," Tracy's tone shifted, a sharp light flashing in her eyes.
"That day at the racetrack, your performance was overwhelming. This is something that neither director Rob Cohen, casting director Lynn Stell, nor Neal Moritz himself can deny.
Your massive advantage in driving skills is your strongest bargaining chip. WMA is using this as a breakthrough point and fighting with everything they've got.
The current situation is that there's clearly a divide within the production team; some favor you, while others lean toward Paul due to the internal CAA connections.
The maneuvering is ongoing, but based on the information I've gathered these past few days and the feedback from WMA, a final decision will likely be made within the next day or two."
She paused and then continued, "As for the salary, WMA has made a preliminary estimate based on your current status and the project budget."
"If you land the lead role, your fixed salary will be around $2 million."
"For a newcomer with only a supporting role in a hit series and another in an unreleased film, this is already a quite good offer. It's largely due to your unique skills and the buzz from the Marie Claire and Delmont advertisements."
Hearing this, Landon became thoughtful.
He was silent for a few seconds before looking at Tracy and making a suggestion that surprised both women.
"Tracy," his voice was steady, "what do you think if we proactively suggest reducing a portion of the fixed salary—say, down to $1 million or even $500,000—and then convert that reduction into a percentage of the box office? What would the production company think?"
Tracy was stunned, and even Rachel, who was nibbling on her salad nearby, looked up at Landon in surprise.
"You mean... swapping fixed salary for a back-end deal?" Tracy confirmed, her brow furrowed as she thought rapidly.
"I've heard the budget for this project is indeed not very generous; it's on the lower-middle end. If they could save $500,000 or even $1 million in actor costs, it would undoubtedly be very attractive to the production company."
"Especially since they might need to spend more of the budget on vehicles, modifications, and special effects. But, Landon, back-end terms are very complex, and the premise is that the movie has to make money."
"This is a street racing-themed movie; while there is a market, no one can guarantee box office success. You're gambling."
"I know I'm gambling." Landon nodded, his gaze exceptionally determined.
"In fact, we could propose an even more aggressive plan: a fixed salary of $500,000 plus $1.5 million converted into a proportional back-end deal. Or, to be extreme, zero fixed salary, with the entire $2 million converted into back-end profit sharing."
"Are you crazy?" Rachel couldn't help but exclaim softly, and even Tracy wore an expression of disbelief.
"Landon," Tracy put down her wine glass and leaned forward, staring straight into his eyes as if to see if he was joking.
"Are you serious? You have that much faith in the fast and the furious? Enough to gamble cold, hard cash on an uncertain future?"
You have to understand, $2 million was definitely not a small amount for them right now.
Although as Landon said, with the advertising fees, magazine pay, and the salary from 24 hours already in hand,
they had no major financial pressure this year, this sum was still a fortune capable of changing their quality of life and making significant investments.
The three of them had basically finished eating.
Landon pushed back his chair, stood up, walked over to Tracy, gently pulled her up, and then sat back down, letting her sit sideways on his lap.
This intimate posture made Tracy blush slightly, but she didn't resist.
Landon held her in his arms, resting his head against her shoulder and neck, smelling the familiar faint fragrance on her body, and said in a low and clear voice in her ear:
"Yes, I have high hopes for it. Not just high hopes, I have a strong premonition." He couldn't reveal the fact of his rebirth, so he could only explain it as a "premonition."