Laila usually arrived at the company early in the morning, spending an hour or two handling administrative tasks before disappearing into the editing room.
No one expected her to come out for lunch—most of the time, it was either Demi or Roy who brought her food, using a key to quietly deliver it to her. As for her leaving work on time? Even less likely. When the boss herself was staying late, the other employees didn't feel comfortable clocking out either. Fortunately, Roy had grown very familiar with Laila's "bad habits" and made it a point to come to the office near closing time to coax her out.
In this steady rhythm, a month flew by.
Then, one afternoon, Laila unexpectedly emerged from the editing room early.
An employee passing by happened to catch sight of her, and before the workday ended, word spread like wildfire: the dark age was finally over.
Calling it a "dark age" might've been a bit dramatic, but they were genuinely on edge whenever their boss was in the editing room.
It made them wonder: Who decided to build the editing room at the far end of the first floor? If they ever found out the culprit, they might just beat them to death.
That placement meant the boss had to walk past many departments every time she went in or out—past actor rehearsal areas, other staff offices, and more. Just seeing her pass by was enough to make people hold their breath. Even if you weren't slacking off, even if you were diligently working, no one could act natural with a figure like hers walking by. After all, she was widely considered the most powerful person in Hollywood.
And it wasn't just the first floor—no one was safe. Laila had somehow developed a fondness for taking the stairs.
Especially after lunch or when heading back upstairs before leaving, she could often be spotted walking from the lower floors up. That raised the chances of staff getting caught red-handed doing anything they shouldn't. So whenever Laila was editing on the first floor, it was like the entire company across all levels was walking on eggshells.
Not that she was actually that scary. In fact, in all these years, she'd only ever "caught" one unlucky guy. That poor soul had been laughing so hard with a coworker that the entire floor could hear it. Just as Laila happened to walk by, curious, she stopped to ask what was so funny.
That one innocent moment was all it took for the entire company to start treating her like a walking storm.
This time, her editing stretch had been especially long, and everyone had been silently suffering. So when she finally walked out early, they celebrated in hushed relief—the ordeal was finally over.
Laila herself was in a great mood too, having finally completed the editing for Blood Diamond.
The old saying "slow work makes fine work" wasn't wrong.
She had poured everything she had into this round of editing—not just applying her well-practiced techniques, but also trying some new approaches and pushing herself creatively. Even though the current cut hadn't gone through post-production or added the music yet, it already looked better than she had imagined.
She was confident: maybe this time, she could stand on the Oscars stage once more and redeem the injustice of this film being overlooked in her past life.
But as she returned to her office in high spirits, her eyes were immediately drawn to a newspaper lying on her desk.
There, printed clearly on the page, was a movie advertisement—one for a film slated to release late next year.
The title? Avatar.
No one in the world knew better than Laila just how explosive that film would be—or what it would mean for the history of cinema.
$237 million production budget.
$2.788 billion in global box office.
A number that shocked the world.
After that, people started saying: The only person who can defeat James Cameron is James Cameron.
Just think—Titanic had held the all-time box office record for years, and no one had come close to surpassing it. Until Cameron came back with a new film… and shattered his record.
Nearly 2.8 billion. Even now, and likely far into the future, that number was nothing short of miraculous.
Laila's films had brought in billions, yes—but even breaking Titanic was a stretch, let alone catching up to Avatar, which was in a league of its own.
That's why, when the viral forum post mocking her circulated online, she had merely smiled and stayed silent. She had no intention of "fighting back," because she knew—even if she managed to surpass Titanic, there would always be Avatar waiting beyond.
So why was Avatar so wildly successful?
At its core, it was still a familiar story: a hero saving the world. Cliché, even.
But Laila had studied it before, and she had come to some conclusions.
First, immersion. The visuals were breathtaking. From the floating islands in the sky to the stunning jungles, even the exotic animals—everything made viewers long to be part of that world.
Second, awe-inspiring visuals. IMAX and 3D offered audiences the ultimate viewing experience. Watching Avatar made you feel like you'd been transported to a mysterious, beautiful new realm. It was so realistic that people instinctively reached out, trying to touch the floating objects on screen.
Cameron had mastered 3D, knowing exactly what moviegoers wanted and how to delight them.
So what if it was a commercial film? When a commercial film was done to perfection, it was still an achievement.
Titanic, after all, was also a commercial film. Even the Oscars, who looked down on blockbusters, had to lower their heads before its brilliance.
Staring at the newspaper, Laila felt… complicated. But at the same time, her heart was beating faster.
When would it be her turn—her chance—to make the whole world go crazy over one of her films?
The Lord of the Rings trilogy came close. Combined, they might measure up. But taken individually, each still fell short of Cameron's level.
Just then, a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Roy stepped in from outside.
"You're back early today. Finished everything already?"
"Yes. It's all done. I sent the rough cut downstairs so they can start post-production."
Roy looked at her carefully. Something about her felt different. Normally, after editing, she was either exhausted or euphoric. But this—this-this solemn, contemplative expression—was new.