....
February 14th, 2026 - 7:00 PM
W&B Cinemas, Century City, Los Angeles
The lobby buzzed with an energy Thomas Wright hadn’t seen in months.
Maybe years.
He stood by the concession stand - his concession stand, technically, since he owned this particular W&B Cinemas location - watching the crowd filter in for the 7:30 PM showing of [Deadpool].
Valentine’s Day opening.
Bold choice by Red Studios, but then again, everything about this release had been bold.
Or insane, depending on who you asked.
"Excuse , can I get a large popcorn and - wait, is that butter flavored or actual butter?" A woman in her twenties leaned over the counter.
"Flavored." the concession worker admitted.
"Ugh. Fine. I will take it anyway. It’s Valentine’s Day and my boyfriend dragged to a superhero movie instead of dinner, so I am stress-eating."
Her boyfriend appeared beside her, grinning. "Babe, this isn’t just a superhero movie. This is stored by Regal. The guy who’s behind Harry Potter, Spider-Man, Iron Man, and Superman. This is gonna be-"
"Weird and depressing?" she finished. "Yeah, I know. You’ve been talking about it for three weeks."
Thomas smiled slightly. That seed to be the consensus - people either ca because of Regal’s na or despite it.
The lobby was packed.
Nearly sold out for the evening shows.
Thomas had checked the numbers an hour ago: 94% capacity across all screens showing Deadpool tonight.
Impressive for a movie the critics had already started eviscerating online.
He had read so of the early reviews that leaked from the New York screenings. ’Aggressively unfunny’, ’Narratively incoherent’, ’Self-indulgent garbage’.
And yet here they were, hundreds of people, buying tickets, buying concessions, filling seats.
Thomas moved through the crowd, observing.
This was his favorite part of the job - not the business side or the profit margins, but watching people anticipate a movie.
The mont before the lights went down when anything was possible.
"I heard it’s super violent." a college-aged guy said to his friends.
"That’s why it’s rated R, dumbass." his friend shot back. "First R-rated superhero movie from a major studio in like a decade."
"Nah, man, I think there was another one that was released in 2010? That was R-rated."
"...and it sucked."
Thomas passed a group of film students - he recognized the type, all black clothing and opinions, Regal’s entire filmography.
They looked like film students so most probably going to hate Deadpool, Thomas thought.
Film students always hated anything that chose fun over formalism.
He checked his watch: 7:18 PM. Twelve minutes to showti.
That’s when he noticed the commotion near the ticket verification station.
....
A family of four stood in front of the scanner - mother, father, two boys.
The younger kid looked maybe thirteen, skinny with braces and a Deadpool T-shirt that was clearly brand new.
The older one was taller, awkward in that seventeen-year-old way, trying to look casual while obviously nervous.
Sydney, one of Thomas’s best staff mbers, held up a scanner and a sympathetic expression. "I am sorry, but I need to see ID for both boys."
The younger kid’s face fell imdiately.
The father sighed. "Told you sneaking in wasn’t gonna work, boys. But you had to try."
"But Mummy—" The younger kid’s voice cracked with desperation. "I want to watch this film! It’s made by the sa person who made Harry Potter!"
The mother crouched down to his eye level, gentle but firm. "That isn’t exactly right, sweetheart. But even so, this movie isn’t for kids your age. It’s rated R for a reason. How about we go to your favorite park instead? We can get ice cream."
The older kid crossed his arms, indignant. "I am just one year short. One year! That’s stupid. I can handle it."
Sydney kept her professional smile in place, but Thomas could see the apology in her eyes. "I am really sorry, guys. Studio policy is strict on this one. The rating is 17 , no exceptions. But we can offer you a full refund on the tickets."
The younger kid looked like he might cry. "But everyone at school is gonna see it and I will be the only one who—"
"Jacob." The father’s voice was kind but final. "It’s not happening. We will co back when you’re older."
"That’s not fair—"
"Life’s not fair, kiddo. Co on."
The family turned away, the younger boy dragging his feet, the older one shooting one last longing look at the theater entrance like it was the promised land he’d been denied.
Thomas watched them go, shaking his head slightly.
He had expected this.
A movie with Regal’s na attached - the man behind children’s films like Harry Potter films, who had beco synonymous with ’must-see cinema’ - was always going to attract younger audiences.
Except this ti, Regal had made sothing those kids explicitly couldn’t see.
The irony was almost painful.
Thomas’s phone buzzed.
A text from Jonathan Chen, one of his oldest friends and a local entertainnt lawyer:
[Jon: Hey man, any chance you can look the other way for my nephew? He’s 16, really mature for his age, HUGE Regal fan. I will owe you one.]
Thomas had gotten three similar texts in the past week.
One from his sister, a business partner and his own accountant, of all people.
He had rejected them all.
It was kind of funny, actually.
People thought owning a theater ant he could bend the rules.
But the MPAA didn’t ss around with R-ratings, and Red Studios had been explicit in their theater communications: Strict ID enforcent with no exceptions. We’re serious about this.
Thomas typed back:
[Thomas: Sorry man. Studio’s got us on lockdown. Tell your nephew to wait a year or torrent it like every other underage kid in Arica.]
[Jon: You’re a terrible friend.]
[Thomas: I am just a normal business owner.]
He pocketed his phone and made his way toward Theater 7 - the largest auditorium, 347 seats, surrounded by 339 people who had paid $15.50 each to see what Regal had done to the superhero genre.
The hallway was crowded with last-minute arrivals.
Thomas slipped through, nodding at staff mbers, checking that everything was running smoothly.
The theater doors were already open.
People filed in, finding seats, settling in with their overpriced snacks and drinks. The energy was palpable - opening night energy, the kind you only got a few tis a year with the really big releases.
Thomas found his usual seat - back row, center, perfect sightline, and sat down.
Around him, the theater filled rapidly. By 7:25, nearly every seat was taken.
To his left, a couple in their thirties. The woman was scrolling through her phone. "The RT score is at 23%." she said. "Twenty-three percent. Critics destroyed this thing."
Her partner shrugged. "Critics destroyed everything that’s new."
"That’s not - okay, that’s actually true. Fine. But if this sucks, you’re buying dinner after."
To his right, three guys who looked like they had co straight from a gym, all wearing variations of athletic gear and protein shaker bottles.
"Bro, I just wanna see Ryan Reynolds kick ass." one said. "I don’t care about the fourth wall ta whatever shit. Just show cool fights."
Thomas smiled.
The range of expectations in this room alone was staggering.
Film students wanting auteur brilliance.
Action fans wanting spectacle.
Regal fans wanting sothing, though they weren’t sure what.
And everyone else is just hoping for a good ti on Valentine’s Day.
The lights began to dim.
Conversations dropped to murmurs.
Thomas settled into his seat, genuinely curious.
He had seen the trailers - irreverent, violent, unlike anything in Regal’s filmography.
He had read the critical pan and also watched audiences buy tickets anyway.
Now he would see what all the fuss was about.
The Red Studios logo appeared on screen.
Then LIE360.
Then MDCU.
And then-
The screen went black.
A voice: "Fuck."
The entire audience laughed, surprised.
Ryan Reynolds appeared on screen, not as Deadpool but as himself, sitting in what looked like a writer’s room. "Okay, let’s try this again. Proper studio logos this ti."
Soone off-screen: "We already showed the logos."
"Yeah, but I didn’t like the font. Can we change the font?"
"No."
"Fuck."
More laughter, but louder this ti.
The movie hadn’t even started yet and it was already breaking the fourth wall.
Thomas leaned forward slightly.
Around him, he could feel the audience calibrating - adjusting their expectations, trying to figure out what kind of movie this was going to be.
.
....
[To be continued...]
★─────⇌•★•⇋─────★
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