Getting out of Ginsley's car, Ryan pulled down his baseball cap and quickly scanned the surroundings. Seeing nothing unusual, he waved to the lady agent in the car and lowered his head as he ran into the campus.
He couldn't stay at home forever. If he took too long a leave, he would really have to repeat a grade. Fortunately, as time passed, the buzz around him gradually faded. Hollywood had an endless stream of celebrities and gossip—naturally, someone else would come along to attract the media and public's attention.
"Hey, Ryan, long time no see. Why do you always take such long leaves?"
Ryan had just sat down in his seat when Jerry and Peter leaned over from the front and side.
"You know, I'm always busy." Ryan replied casually, keeping his face hidden under the shadow of his baseball cap.
"Yeah, you are pretty busy." Jerry tilted his head and suddenly said, "Ryan, can you take off your cap?"
"My cap? What's up with it?" Ryan didn't think much of it, and casually took off the cap and placed it on the desk.
"Peter!" Jerry called, and Peter quickly pulled out a newspaper from his backpack. He glanced at the front-page photo and confirmed with certainty, "No doubt about it—it's him."
The corner of Ryan's mouth twitched. In his mind, kids this age didn't usually read newspapers or magazines. Plus, he had grown quite a bit and looked somewhat different from how he did in The Sixth Sense. He hadn't expected these two to actually read the Los Angeles Times.
"Wow, it's true! Ryan, you really are the little boy from The Sixth Sense! So that means Harry Potter was written by you too? You knew that's my favorite book and never told me you were the author!"
Jerry's shout immediately drew the attention of the whole class. He simply snatched the paper from Peter's hands.
"None of you read newspapers or magazines? No entertainment news? No movies? Do you know who the boy in The Sixth Sense is? Do you know who wrote Ryan's Story Collection and Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, your favorite books? It's Ryan!"
The classroom instantly turned into a marketplace. These energetic boys and girls all swarmed over, eager to look at the half-month-old newspaper. Despite its many creases, the picture was still clear enough—who else could it be but Ryan?
A lively girl snatched the paper and stood on a chair, reading the article aloud in a clear voice. For ten-year-olds, most of the content was understandable. Only then did they start to believe that the author of their favorite children's books was actually their classmate!
As he looked at the faces staring intently at him, Ryan didn't move a muscle. He only felt his face turning pale, his eyes growing dark, and the pen in his hand becoming a vibrant green bamboo shoot. Even though he had expected to be found out sooner or later, he hadn't imagined that he'd become the center of attention on his first day back at school.
"Ryan, why didn't you ever tell us?" the girl demanded.
We're not exactly close, are we? Ryan rolled his eyes. Honestly, besides Jerry and Peter, he only knew the names of his other classmates.
"I knew it! When my dad and I went to see The Sixth Sense, I thought that boy looked familiar. Now I remember—it's exactly how Ryan looked when he transferred here last year!" another boy exclaimed.
"Oh my gosh, and you're the screenwriter too! My mom loves that movie. She's seen it four times! She says the story is amazing, and it always makes her cry. She also said the movie's box office is about to hit 100 million dollars!" said another girl. "Also, Ryan, I want to know—when is the third Harry Potter book coming out?"
Ryan could only give a helpless smile. After all, they were just curious kids, not paparazzi. Just as he was about to respond, another kid asked, "Ryan, how many big stars have you met? Can you get me Tom Cruise's autograph?"
"And Ryan, how do you come up with all those stories?"
"Ryan, are you really an orphan?"
"Ryan, is making movies fun? Can you take us to the set sometime?"
Maybe I should transfer schools! Ryan suddenly had the thought. But then, remembering Nicole's increasingly hectic schedule, he squashed it immediately. He raised his voice and shouted, "Stop! Stop!"
The chaotic classroom finally quieted down, but these kids were still full of curiosity and showed no intention of dispersing. Especially Jerry—after blinking, he suddenly said, "I get it! I totally get it now! No wonder Ryan's always writing and doodling—he's been writing stories!"
"Alright, Jerry, you got it. But there's no prize for that." Ryan waved his hand and addressed the whole class. "Yes, Harry Potter and the other books really were written by me. I haven't met that many celebrities. The only one I worked with was Al Pacino. I don't know Tom Cruise well, so I can't get his autograph for you."
Then Ryan showed a playful smile. "As for making movies—it's not fun at all. The directors all have terrible tempers. If you make a mistake, they'll scold you without mercy, and they won't stop even if you cry. No one feels sorry for you because you didn't do your job right. And when filming at night, it often goes all night long. If you don't finish your scenes, you're not allowed to sleep! Also, when the director tells you to smile, you have to smile; when he tells you to cry, you have to produce tears immediately; when he tells you to go crazy, you have to act like a total lunatic. So, making movies is not fun!"
Ryan's exaggerated rant left the other kids stunned. In their minds, filming should be an incredibly fun experience. They hadn't expected to hear such a horrifying answer.
"Alright, class is about to start. Can we save all these questions for lunch break?" Under Ryan's scare tactics and persuasion, the group finally dispersed. He wasn't too worried—kids at this age are curious, but their attention spans are short. Soon enough, they'd be obsessed with something else.
"Ryan, what you said… that wasn't true, right?" Jerry leaned over and asked in a low voice. "I won't tell anyone."
"Of course... it's fake!"
"And Ryan, is the third Harry Potter finished? Can we read it first?" Peter also stuck his head in.
"Nope." Ryan definitely wasn't going to admit anything.
The bell finally rang. Ryan let out a sigh of relief. Dealing with these classmates was even more exhausting than dealing with the paparazzi. But not long into the lesson, he noticed something new.
Their English teacher, Ms. Sara, kept glancing at him with a curious and probing look. Even though Ryan kept to himself and focused on his own work, he could sense her eyes on him.
"Ryan, can you help me with something?" Right before class ended, Ms. Sara came over and asked in a low voice.
"Huh? Of course." Ryan put away his pen and shook out his wrist, then suddenly realized she was his teacher. "I'm really sorry..."
"No need to apologize, Ryan. A kid who can write such outstanding work—I don't think there's much left for me to teach you." Ms. Sara smiled. "My daughter loves the Harry Potter series. After finishing the second book, she keeps bugging me to get the third. I wanted to ask—when will the third one be published?"
…
Burbank is located north of Los Angeles and is one of the city's many satellite communities. Its most notable feature is its media industry. NBC, Disney, Warner Bros., and many other media and entertainment companies have their headquarters or key departments located there. Because of this, Burbank has earned the title "Media Capital of the World."
At the Walt Disney headquarters, Carter Eisner left his uncle's office and returned to the floor of Touchstone Pictures. The furrow in his brow still hadn't relaxed, and it made his already unimpressive face look like a wrinkled bitter melon.
No wonder he was worried—Touchstone Pictures had been around for seven years. Despite having the giant of Disney behind it, it had yet to produce any influential works in film or television. Forget competing with the Big Seven movie studios—even Miramax, after releasing The Sixth Sense, was starting to overshadow them.
Earlier this year, Carter became vice president of Touchstone's film division. Though he had tried everything to turn things around, the results had been underwhelming. And internal doubts about him had never ceased. After all, he was not even 30, and he was the nephew of Michael Eisner.
"Carter, Director Chris Columbus is waiting for you in your office," the receptionist reminded him as he passed the front desk.
"Chris? Oh, right—he scheduled a meeting with me today." Carter asked, "How long has he been here?"
"More than half an hour."
"Damn, I'd better hurry. Hopefully he brings some good news." Carter quickly opened the door to his office.
Chris Columbus, dressed in a gray suit, was sitting on the couch, sipping coffee and reading a book. He seemed so absorbed that he didn't even notice Carter come in.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, Chris!" Carter had to speak up first.
"Not long—I just finished a story," Chris Columbus closed the book.
"Alright, Chris." Carter offered an apologetic smile. "What's this meeting about? Are you planning a new film?"
"Yes, Carter," Columbus replied. "I'm looking for a partner. I wonder if Touchstone Pictures..."
He made a knowing gesture.
"Do you have a script?"
Though Columbus didn't have a long list of works, each of his films had been a box office hit. Naturally, Carter hoped for a pleasant surprise.
"Not yet." Columbus made another apologetic gesture. "But I do have the story."
With that, he handed over the book he'd just closed:"Ryan's Story Collection?"