[General POV]
Three days before Christmas, the production crew at Entertain worked diligently to build an interview set for Edward's talk show. The host, Conan O'Brien, wore a puzzled expression as he spoke with Pepper.
"So, instead of a prepared question, I can ask him whatever I want?" Conan narrowed his eyes slightly, leaning forward in confusion.
Pepper chuckled, replying, "Yeah. Ed said it'll be fine. We can always edit out anything too personal, so you don't have to worry about that."
Conan smirked, "Yes! The billionaire's support for the studio budget—sothing a public network will never have. Can we have caviar or a lobster nu instead of chicken wings?"
Pepper responded casually, "Okay, I'll get you so."
"I was just joking." Conan's astonishnt turned into excitent.
As Pepper set up the stage, taking suggestions from Conan, Edward sat in a small room with Taylor.
Taylor paced back and forth behind the couch, shaking her hands nervously in a self-soothing manner. Edward flipped through a script, humming casually.
Suddenly, Taylor snapped at him, her head whipping around almost 90 degrees. She winced in pain. "How are you so calm—Oww—... Bitch..."
"Did you just call a bitch?" Edward looked up, astonished.
"Owww~" she whined, sitting beside him and massaging her neck while shooting him a glare.
"We're going public without adequate preparation! You're fine with it, but I don't have improv experience!" she scolded.
Edward waved his hand dismissively. "It's fine. You're going to do great."
"I don't think any celebrity has done this!" she fretted. Edward placed the script down and beckoned her to sit closer.
He began to massage her neck and shoulder, saying, "Actually, there have been a lot. You don't rember because there's not much to recall. Once they confirm it on air, people lose interest after they get their fair share of drama."
Just then, Harvey entered the room without knocking. She paused, confused at the sight of Edward massaging Taylor.
"What happened? Were you guys boxing in here? Do you need to file a lawsuit?" she teased.
Edward scoffed. "She did this to herself. I had no part in it. Also, Harvey, we need to produce this, too."
Harvey raised an eyebrow as she approached the couch. "Again? This is the tenth movie you've approved this week alone."
Edward nodded slightly. "I can't help it. They write great stuff."
To beco a scriptwriter in Hollywood, luck and connections are crucial. However, Edward expanded his search beyond the city, attracting talented writers who had never had the opportunity to showcase their work.
Entertain needed its own content. The movies wouldn't be produced all at once but over the span of six months.
"Especially this one: Psychopath Diary. I love it." Edward grinned as he pointed to the script. The thick, 500 pages script on the table.
"The witness to a murder scene runs off with the killer's diary, and after getting hit by a car while trying to escape, he suffers from amnesia. When he wakes up, he mistakenly believes the diary is his. I love the internal struggle between the man he is and the man the diary makes him out to be," he added.
Edward thought he had seen a similar show before, but he couldn't recall the details.
"If the story is that good, then why hasn't any producer picked it up?" Taylor asked, her tone laced with sarcasm.
"Because it already has an ending. The plot is too expansive for a movie but too contained to stretch out over multiple seasons," Edward replied casually.
Stories like Chernobyl, Queen's Bandit, which have a short amount of episodes, beco a huge success in the future. Edward believed that he should never underestimate the consur's thirst for quality content– which he aid to make.
Noticing Edward's enthusiasm for the script, Harvey asked, "Ed, do you want to play this role?"
"I an, I do, but it would have to be fild in London due to the gun control laws to make the story credible. If this were shot in Arica, it'd end within an episode," Edward chuckled, imagining the psychopath murderer being taken out with a gun bought at Walmart.
"And honestly, I don't have the ti to commit to it in the next two years," he shrugged, masking behind his disappointnt with a poker face. Suddenly, Edward turned to Harvey, "By the way, why are you here?"
"Ah, I talked with so friends about the capital gain tax. Take a low interest loan. Since the revenue pays for the project and then so aning you grow your assets and can take even bigger loans and debt isn't taxable. That's how rich people do it. Or you can pay a quarter billion dollars as capital gain tax."
Flabbergasted, Edward turned to Harvey with disbelief, "Pay the quarter billion?-- Do you even know ? Use the LOOPHOLE! "
"Got it." Harvey winked, pointing her finger at Edward snappily at the sa ti before she walked away.
...
200 people were brought into the studio as the live audience for today's shoot. Conan was already ready at his host's table, greeting the audience before finally welcoming the guest.
The cara started rolling as Conan began.
"Welco to a very special episode of 'Hot Ones,' where the wings are hot, and the guests are even hotter!" Conan said with a playful grin. "As you can see, even though this is set up like a late-night show, there's a bucket of chicken on the table in front of , making it an eating show instead." He added with a sly side-eye. "A loophole!"
The audience chuckled, aware of Conan's recent ban on late-night shows after parting ways with NBC.
"Today, we have a truly extraordinary young talent in the hot seat. He's a multi-talented singer, songwriter, tinkerer, billionaire, philanthropist, a real casanova and he's definitely the one writing this looooong introduction!" Conan joked, eliciting laughter from the audience.
Many in attendance were fans of Edward and also his employees. The joke resonated with them as they knew how Edward is and the possibility that he actually wrote that.
Conan continued, "This reclusive superstar rookie recently helped save the president, but you won't find him doing interviews with just anyone. He wanted ! !!! LISTEN TO THAT, NBC!" Conan stood up from his chair, mockingly scolding the network with a dramatic expression.
The audience erupted with laughter as Conan backtracked, "Sorry. I let my emotions get the best of there. NBC and I have an amicable breakup from each other." The audience giggled at his skit.
"Today, he's chosen to sit down with , Conan O'Brien, for an exclusive interview. So, prepare yourselves as we dive into so spicy wings and even spicier stories with Edward NEWGATE!!"
As Conan announced his na, Edward walked to the guest seat with a confident yet humble deanor. He wore a stunning maroon suit, tailored perfectly to accentuate his muscular fra, with two buttons undone, revealing a hint of his chiseled chest.
His angular face was striking, and his srizing green eyes captivated the audience. Girls swoon as he flashed a charming smile. The combination of his stylish appearance and undeniable charisma made the atmosphere electric. The audience cheered thunderously as if they were at a concert, which surprised Conan.
However, as a professional, Conan kept his mind sharp and imdiately stood up to shake Edward's hand.
"Alright, Edward, welco! You look fantastic in that suit—definitely giving off those 'billionaire rock star' vibes. Are we sure you didn't just walk off a magazine cover?" Conan said, trying to break the ice with a complint.
Edward chuckled and replied, "I wanted to dress a bit more casually, but all my clothes burned in a fire. So, I had to grab this one for my endorsent photoshoot. Let's just pretend this is what I usually wear at ho."
"Right! Because I, too, typically rock a classy suit at ho," Conan quipped, teasing Edward. "Just wiping my nose with a Gucci jacket when I sneeze, or sleeping in my Italian-crafted suit!"
Edward added with a grin, "Or just hopping into the hot tub wearing Armani."
The crowd burst into laughter at the duo's banter and how Edward played along with the joke.
Conan laughed, "And then toss it all away afterward. In front of a billionaire, those thousands of dollars worth of suits beco disposable kitchen napkins!"
"What else should I do? Give my money to poor people? That's like... charity or sothing. Ew." Edward joked, poking fun at himself.
The audience erupted in laughter at Edward's delivery, and Conan felt a sense of satisfaction engaging with him.
For a talk show host, the greatest nightmare is having a boring conversation. Thankfully, with Edward, Conan didn't have to force the fun; it ca naturally.
"Enough appetizers. We're going to be serious now." Conan clasped his hands together, leaned forward, and gazed intently at Edward. Edward mirrored his seriousness and said, "I'm prepared."
Suddenly, Conan broke character and turned to the audience. "Wait. I forgot to explain sothing."
Edward relaxed, leaning back. "Oh sure. Go ahead."
Beside the stage, Taylor watched in disbelief at Edward's performance. "God. Why is he so hot? Let move on from my feelings in peace," she mumbled. Her eyes were glued to Edward's performance, sa as all of Edward's friends who ca to watch the show. In the audience seat, most of Edward's friends were there.
Conan addressed the audience, "On this special interview, Edward promised to answer all the questions I'm going to ask him...honestly," he said, holding up a piece of chicken. "While we eat, until none of the chicken is left."
Edward added, "And the interview will only go on till we finish eating."
Conan took a slow, exaggerated nibble of chicken, dragging it out. "Alright, I took a bite. Let's be serious again."
Both Conan and Edward furrowed their brows and leaned forward, clasping their hands together in unison as if it were a preditated skit, causing the audience to burst into laughter.
"On a side note, Edward doesn't know what questions will be asked—damn, that's hot! UEarghhh~"
As the audience laughed, Edward smirked and explained, "You didn't think there wouldn't be a catch, did you?"
"What have you done?" Conan asked accusatorily , feigning shock.
Edward replied, "There are ten wings, each coated with a different sauce. So are mild... so will make you wish for death. Don't worry, we'll provide milk. But if you drink it, the question becos null, and you'll have to move on to the next one."
Conan, already aware of the rules, stood slightly and declared, "Do you think a little spiciness will stop ? I'll make sure to eat all of them!" He stuffed an entire wing into his mouth and swallowed it in one go. "I'll make sure you regret—DAMN, THAT'S HOT!"
The audience roared with laughter as they watched Conan struggle to cope with the heat. Finally, regaining his composure, he asked Edward, "You thought up this ga when you invited here. Do you enjoy devising these sadistic gas and watching people suffer?"
Edward, slightly taken aback, grinned and replied, "I don't like seeing people suffer. I just like seeing you suffer!"
"Why? What did I ever do to you?!" Conan quipped, playing along with Edward's reply.
Edward, with a hint of irritation, said, "Who asked you to get kicked out from hosting the Late Night Show in the sa year I made my debut? And before the show ended, you didn't. even. invite. ."
The audience now understood why Edward was punishing Conan. They chuckled slightly and waited for the reaction.
"Wait. You wanted to co to my show?" Conan acted touched, then suddenly grabbed a napkin and exaggeratedly wiped his tongue, causing the audience to burst into laughter.
"Yeah. I loved your show—"
"SEE THAT, NBC?!" Conan shouted straight to the cara, making the entire audience, even the caraman, snicker.
Edward continued amidst the laughter, "I wanted to go there after the VMAs. But you know what happened then. By the ti I was over the trauma and wanted to co, you were already canned."
Conan, taken aback, laughed self-deprecatingly, "Wow, you really don't pull your punches."
Edward chuckled and then stared at the cara like Conan did, saying, "Why'd you do that, NBC?!"
The audience erupted in laughter, and Conan joined in trashing the network, "Look what you did, NBC!"
Edward suddenly turned serious and looked at Conan, "Wait. Didn't you sign a contract that prevents you from talking smack about the network?"
"I'm not talking smack. I'm just asking them so sincere questions," Conan quickly deflected with a sly grin. He turned to Edward and added, "I'm impressed you even know about that."
"Nosy is one of my prominent traits," Edward replied, prompting chuckles from so audience mbers.
Conan seized the mont and said, "You have a lot of traits. One of them is heroic. Can we talk about what happened at that ti now, or should we wait until the finale?"
"Let's test your luck. If you get a mild one, we'll wait for the finale. If you're going to suffer, then we can dive in now," Edward replied, subtly nudging Conan to eat the chicken first before asking his question.
Conan groaned in dissatisfaction, staring into the bucket bowl. "Eghhh..." he scowled, prompting laughter from the audience. "You're making wish for torture while acting like it's a sweet deal. You're like the devil!" he remarked, eyeing Edward.
Edward smiled innocently. "Of course, you can choose not to do it."
"I'LL DO IT!" Conan declared, grabbing another wing. After taking a nibble, he smacked his lips a few tis. "Oh, this one's one of the milder ones. So we'll wait for the finale."
As he inhaled sharply from the spiciness, Conan asked, "In your Instagram feed, there are a lot of pictures of your cat. Are you only a cat lover?"
Edward smirked. "That's a really mild question. Yeah, I love cats. But I also adore all kinds of animals."
He proceeded to share stories about his family dog on the ranch, as well as Ace, his panther. He recounted how he t Vader after fleeing from a paparazzi and discovering Vader rummaging through the trash for food.
As the audience got a glimpse into Edward's personal life and saw how genuine he was being, their admiration for him grew.
The next question was also mild, where Edward talked to Conan about his VMA award. Conan expressed regret for not inviting Edward to his show, but he defended himself by saying he didn't think Edward would co. They acted out what could have been, leaving the audience feeling a bit lancholic.
While the interview continued, executives from TBS suddenly approached the company with an offer. Renaldo whispered to Pepper hurriedly, "TBS wants to buy the rights to broadcast this interview."
"For how much?" Pepper asked, intrigued.
"Twenty million dollars," Renaldo replied, his voice slightly shaky, clearly surprised by the high offer. Pepper smirked and muttered, "Eddy really understands this industry. He played them like a fiddle."
Among the audience, a few industry 'plants' from major cable networks were present, eager to see how the interview would unfold. However, witnessing the audience's reaction and experiencing the fun of the interview firsthand convinced them that the money would be well spent.
With Edward's exclusive interview drawing imnse interest, several major cable networks were vying for the rights to broadcast it. TBS, Cody Central, MTV, VH1, E!, CNN, FX, and A&E all recognized the potential for high viewership and buzz.
What started as a million-dollar offer quickly snowballed to twenty million, the maximum a cable network would pay for this kind of interview in 2009. It was an 'insider' story about what really happened at that ti and why his house was targeted by a missile—how he escaped death itself.
Not only that, but many producers were also interested in securing the rights to his story for potential movie adaptations.
"Although there's this big story we're all dying to know about, there's sothing else too," Conan slowly led into the question. "In the first and second weeks of November, you and your friend Taylor S. both released singles, and the lyrics matched up with each other."
The audience was intrigued as they rembered that, and the interest from the cable TV representatives grew more and more.
"But neither of you spoke up about it. Usually, people talk, but you guys have kept mum. What happened there?" Conan pressed on. "And rember, you promised to be honest."
Edward pretended to be a little helpless and uncomfortable. As he adjusted his seating, he let out a beleaguered sigh and told Conan, "That's actually quite a sad story."
The crowd exclaid, "Uuuuu," as they highly anticipated the answer.
"I wanted to sympathize, but right now, I feel like I can hear my own brain waves moving around." Conan said, with a reddish face as he got another extrely hot chicken wing. "I cannot drink the milk, but can I just dip my tongue in cold water?"
"Yeah, I can excuse that." Edward said. A staff mber quickly ran into the set, placing a tall glass of water on Conan's table. Conan dipped his tongue in that water and glanced at Edward, "Continue."
The audience laughed and Edward advised Conan, "Why don't you keep an ice cube inside your mouth."
"You're trying to trick . Once I drink that lted ice, you'll nullify the question. I can see through your trick, you sadist." Conan accused him. Edward smirked and said, "I said milk. Not water."
"WAIT! DAMN IT!" Conan exclaid as he quickly downed a glass of water, glaring at Edward in frustration. "I could've done that from the start!" He finished the entire glass in one go.
Edward chuckled and replied, "It's not my fault you didn't think of it."
"God! Why am I being punished like this?" Conan lanted, before turning to the cara again. "Why'd you do that, NBC?"
Edward joined in, "Why'd you make him suffer, NBC?"
The two exchanged amused glances and chuckled together. Conan said, "Are you trying to avoid answering the question?"
"I'll answer it, I'll answer it. Jeez," Edward groaned.
"But before I do, I'd like to ask for a lifeline," Edward said, eliciting laughter from the audience. To their surprise, he suddenly turned to the side and called out, "Taylor, do you want to co out here so we can talk about this together?"
Monts later, Taylor S. stepped onto the stage, her presence instantly lighting up the room. The crowd gasped and applauded enthusiastically. Wearing a simple yellow dress and with her blonde hair curled into locks, Taylor waved to everyone before sitting next to Edward.
Conan pretended to be surprised as well, shouting, "What?!" multiple tis, exaggerating his shock as if his mind had been blown.
Renaldo whispered to Pepper again, "They offered 25 million now."
"If they knew what'll happen later, I wonder if they would still offer the sa amount." Pepper waved his paper fan and laughed deviously.
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