My Life in Hollywood C31 The Plug Gets Pulled (Patreon)

Netflicks pulled the plug on all $200,000 worth of distributor orders. The distributors didn't seem to care one bit about losing a customer that size.

Why would they? They had Blockbuster Cinema backing them. That was their real meal ticket.

Losing a few hundred thousand meant nothing when Blockbuster Cinema raked in hundreds of millions just from late fees alone. When it came down to picking sides, the choice was obvious. Why wouldn't they help out the giant? Hell, they were probably happy to do Blockbuster Cinema a favor. Being the big bully's friend had its perks.

As for the headlines about the sixteen-year-old predicting their doom? The buzz lasted maybe a week before people moved on. Tens of thousands had read about it, sure, but nobody was taking it seriously anymore.

The distributors definitely weren't losing sleep over it.

---ᕙ⁠(⁠ ⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠ ⁠)⁠ᕗ---

Marcus had been running himself ragged lately. He and Jefferson were juggling outreach to local video stores across California, and it demanded constant attention. Jefferson had started canceling his usual meetings. Marcus? He'd been skipping class entirely.

"Kid, we need to hire a lawyer," Jefferson said, looking up from a stack of contracts they'd need for the local store deals. "We can't keep paying outside counsel every time we need paperwork done. It's inefficient and expensive. If we're scaling this fast, we need someone in-house who knows our business inside and out."

Marcus had been thinking the same thing. "I actually have someone in mind already."

Diana Stone came to mind immediately—Arya's older sister. She'd be perfect.

"By the way, we've reached out to ten local stores so far," Jefferson continued. "Seven are interested in selling us their inventory. A couple want to negotiate pricing, but the conversations are moving forward. Should have agreements signed with at least four or five by the end of next week."

Marcus smiled. "Good. That'll solve our DVD shortage pretty quick. Subscribers have been complaining about titles being unavailable..." He glanced out the window at the street below. The building they were in was modest—definitely not the gleaming skyscraper he'd imagined when he started this. Just a cheap rental in Studio City that doubled as their warehouse for DVD storage.

"We're at about $200,000 in monthly revenue now, by the way," Marcus informed Jefferson. As the majority stakeholder, he deserved to know. "And it's still climbing."

Jefferson's eyebrows shot up. He'd expected them to hit that milestone in a few months, maybe early next year. But a week after the interview? That was insane.

"The growth is incredible," Jefferson admitted, rubbing his chin. "At this rate, we'll be profitable by next year for sure."

But Marcus didn't look happy about it.

"What's wrong? Is it Blockbuster Cinema?" Jefferson asked.

"No." Marcus shook his head. "Time's moving. We need to scale faster."

"We already are—" Jefferson started. "I've got people reaching out to stores outside California now so we can speed up delivery times for subscribers in other states."

Right now, about 80% of their subscribers were in California since that's where they'd focused their marketing efforts.

"I'm not talking about DVDs," Marcus said. "Don't forget what we're actually building here. Streaming."

Jefferson went quiet.

Shit. He'd been so focused on DVD rentals that he'd almost forgotten the whole point.

"Our main goal is licensing films and shows for streaming," Marcus continued. "And more importantly, creating our own original content. Right now, we've got one thing—that horror comedy from my classmate Frank. It's getting decent views, people are even comparing it to Paranormal Activity. But that's it. One piece of content."

He leaned forward. "And scaling that requires serious capital. With our current budget, we can maybe license some indie films and classic TV shows. But we should be going after popular movies and well-known series. That's what'll make people actually use the platform."

"Only by doing that will subscribers gradually stop caring about the DVD service and just watch online," Marcus said. "Right now, our DVD tiers have limits based on subscription level—but streaming is unlimited. The more content we have, the more time they'll spend streaming instead of waiting for discs in the mail."

Jefferson sat back, absorbing that.

Marcus was right. That was the whole vision.

He remembered what Marcus had said in the interview: We're not competing with Blockbuster Cinema.

Not now, anyway. But eventually? They would be.

"How much are we looking at here?" Jefferson asked.

"Maybe ten million—no." Marcus shook his head, doing the math in his head. "We're talking fifty, maybe seventy-five million. Minimum. We need to go on a buying spree—secure licensing rights for popular content, fund original productions. Build a real library that makes people forget about DVDs entirely."

Seventy-five million?!

Jefferson's eyes widened. Even he didn't have that kind of cash sitting around.

He looked at the kid across from him. 'His appetite's grown,' he thought, almost amused. 'But hell, I like that hunger.'

"I'm willing to sell equity to hit that target," Marcus said. "But right now, we've got enough capital to make moves in Asia."

"Asia? I thought we agreed to push that to next year when you're on summer break?" Jefferson's brow furrowed.

"Yeah, well, my big mouth changed those plans." Marcus laughed dryly. "Now we've got Blockbuster Cinema's attention. And probably others watching too. We need to move while we have momentum."

"What about school—"

"I'll handle it. Talk to the principal, work something out." Marcus's tone left no room for argument.

Jefferson sighed. Sometimes he forgot Marcus was only sixteen. The kid operated like someone twice his age.

---ᕙ⁠[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]⁠ᕗ---

Two days later, Marcus opened the door to greet his guest.

The moment he saw Diana Stone, he had to consciously keep his expression neutral.

'Holy shit,' he thought. Arya's older sister was stunning. Late twenties, sharp features, confident posture. Unlike Arya's casual energy, Diana had this mature, professional vibe—the kind that came with tailored blazers and expensive perfume.

Marcus gestured toward the living room. "Come in. Can I get you some coffee?"

"Let's skip the pleasantries," Diana said, stepping inside but remaining standing. "You said you had a business proposal. Let's hear it."

"We can talk business over coffee," Marcus said with an easy smile. "No reason we can't be civilized about it."

Diana studied him for a moment, clearly sizing him up. Then she nodded. "Fine."

She sat on the couch while Marcus headed to the kitchen. A few minutes later, he returned with two mugs—hers with a perfect layer of cream on top.

Diana took a sip, her eyebrows raising slightly. She glanced at the cream, then at Marcus. "How did you know I take it like this?"

"Arya mentioned you're particular about your coffee," Marcus said, sitting across from her.

Diana's expression softened just a fraction. "She talks about me?"

"She talks about you a lot, actually. Says you're brilliant, that you're wasted at your current firm."

"She said that?" Diana seemed genuinely surprised.

"She worries about you," Marcus said honestly.

Diana took another sip, a small bit of cream lingering on her upper lip. She didn't notice.

Without thinking—his old habits from his previous life kicking in—Marcus leaned forward across the table and casually wiped the cream from her lip with his thumb.

Diana froze, her eyes widening.

Then Marcus pulled back and licked the cream off his thumb. "Good coffee."

Silence.

Diana stared at him, her expression shifting from shock to something harder. "Did you seriously just do that?"

Marcus blinked, realizing what he'd done. "Uh... you had cream on your lip?"

"That doesn't mean you just—" Diana set her mug down with a sharp click. "Did you call me here just to mess around?"

"No, no—I wasn't thinking, I just—" Marcus raised his hands defensively. His playboy instincts from his past life had gotten the better of him. Damn it.

"Get to the point already," Diana said coldly. "My time isn't free."

Marcus sighed inwardly. 'Nice going, idiot.' He cleared his throat. "Right. Sorry. Let me lay out the actual offer."

He explained the position: in-house General Counsel for Netflicks. $120,000 annually to start, plus equity options. Full authority over all legal matters—contract negotiations, corporate structure, intellectual property, partnerships.

Diana listened, her irritation gradually fading as the numbers sank in.

That salary was significantly better than what her firm paid her. And equity in a company that was already doing $200,000 monthly?

She picked up her coffee again, thinking it over. "You're serious about this? You're sixteen."

"Seventeen in a few months," Marcus corrected. "But yeah, I'm serious. We're scaling fast—content licensing, original productions, international expansion. I need someone sharp who can keep up. Arya says that's you."

Diana looked at him, weighing the offer against the fact that he'd just pulled that stunt with the cream.

Then again... the offer was really good. And if Arya trusted him, maybe there was something here worth considering.

She sat there thinking it over, her expression serious as she weighed the pros and cons.

Marcus tried to keep his face neutral, but damn, she was beautiful. The way she sat there, completely focused, brow slightly furrowed—it was distracting as hell.

'Get it together,' he told himself. 'You need her for the company. Don't screw this up.'

But he couldn't help thinking that having her around the office wouldn't exactly be a hardship. Seeing her every day would definitely make work more interesting.

The offer was solid though. First in-house counsel, generous salary, equity stake. And she was legitimately talented—Arya had made that clear. Plus, having Arya's sister on the team felt right.

After what felt like forever, Diana finally spoke. "Alright. I'll take it."

Marcus's face lit up. "You won't regret it." He extended his hand for a handshake.

Diana looked at his hand, hesitated, then took it.

The moment their hands touched, Marcus held on a bit too long, his thumb brushing over her knuckles as they shook.

A few seconds passed.

"You planning to let go anytime soon?" Diana asked flatly.

Marcus released her hand, clearing his throat. "Right. Sorry. We'll get the paperwork sorted this week."

Diana stood, already reaching for her bag. "Good. I'll need to give my firm two weeks' notice, so—"

"Wait, do you have to leave right now?" Marcus asked. "We could grab lunch or something. Get to know each other a bit?"

Diana looked at him, really looked at him. He was good-looking, she'd give him that. But this whole act? Completely unexpected.

Arya had described him as focused, driven, mature beyond his years. Not... whatever this was.

"Why would I do that?" she asked, her tone somewhere between amused and annoyed.

"I just thought—" Marcus fumbled, his teenage body betraying him. "We're gonna be working together. Might as well start building that rapport?"

Even he heard how weak that sounded.

Diana sighed. "You're sixteen and already thinking about this stuff?" She'd been about to say something about focusing on school, then remembered this kid had built a company pulling in six figures monthly. "You know what? Never mind."

"Sorry," Marcus said, managing a sheepish smile. "You're just really beautiful. I couldn't help myself."

Diana studied him for a moment, something almost playful flickering in her eyes. "Grow up first," she said, her voice carrying just a hint of teasing before she turned and headed for the door.

Marcus stood there, watching her leave. 'Grow up first? Lady, I'm probably older than you if you count both lives.'

He shook his head, laughing at himself.

Sometimes the gap between who you were and who people saw you as felt impossibly wide. He had decades of experience trapped in a teenager's body, complete with a teenager's hormones screwing with his judgment. It was like being a master chef forced to cook with a broken stove—all the knowledge in the world didn't matter when the equipment kept malfunctioning.