Chapter Three: NO!

A year back, "The Matrix" blew up everywhere, and the Wachowski Sisters went from nobodies to Hollywood's hottest directors. Warner Bros and their partner Vue International threw in a ton of cash to get the sequel rolling.

Bruce Berman from Vue International jumped on as one of the producers. With all that dough on the line, even a seasoned pro like him was feeling the heat. Ever since the crew got together, you could catch him losing his cool at the Warner Bros studio.

Being old-school, Bruce had crazy high standards for all the prep work. He'd even jump into the crew's hiring process whenever he had a spare moment.

For a sequel like "The Matrix," they needed a massive crew, which meant tons of behind-the-scenes roles. Besides getting recommendations from Hollywood guilds and talent agencies, they also had open calls for hiring.

"This is a mega project with over $300 million on the line."

Before the morning interviews kicked off, Bruce gathered the key players for a quick pep talk. "We gotta make sure every hire is a top-tier expert with loads of experience!"

Bruce wasn't just all talk. After the meeting, he followed a production manager into an office, ready to dive into the interviews himself.

A black Chevy sedan rolled into Burbank. The best thing Frank had from his past life was knowing the Greater LA area like the back of his hand. He found the Warner Bros studio, parked, grabbed his perfectly prepped folder from the passenger seat, signed in at the gate, and hopped on a golf cart to the studio lot.

Sitting in the cart with a few others, Frank noticed he was the youngest. He was only twenty when he got locked up last year, and now he was just barely an adult.

The Warner Bros studio was tucked behind the Warner building. Glancing at the building, Frank let out a small breath. He believed that one day, every production company would be rolling out the red carpet for him.

Even though the goal seemed far off and kinda unrealistic, Frank kept telling himself—I'm the special one!

Hollywood's a tough gig. If you can't even set a goal and have some basic confidence, you might as well find another job.

Since he was here, Frank was brimming with confidence. After all, he had resources that were way ahead of the game.

He was sure that when the right moment hit, he'd totally crush it.

The golf cart pulled up in front of the studio's office area. These days, Hollywood crews were often outsourced, making the big studio lot look kinda empty and lonely. It was only here that you’d see some folks around. Like everyone else, Frank followed the staff's lead to a big conference room to wait.

Sitting in the conference room, Frank wasn't in the mood to chat. He clutched his file folder, running through potential interview questions in his head and figuring out how to show off his skills.

He was gunning for an art designer spot on the crew and had prepped for days. Thanks to his time at film school, Frank had whipped up some dark Gothic-style sketches, hoping they'd score him some extra points.

Since he was one of the first to show up, it wasn't long before a staff member called his name. Frank grabbed his folder, followed the staff to an office door, knocked gently, and waited for the "Come in" before stepping inside.

There were only two people in the office. One was a middle-aged guy with short chestnut hair, who had just spoken. The other was a big guy with graying hair, sitting behind the middle-aged dude, with small but piercing eyes.

"Over here."

The middle-aged guy pointed to the chair across from him. Frank gave a polite smile, sat down, and said, "Thanks."

After speaking, his eyes flicked to the big guy behind the middle-aged man. It was clear the graying-haired dude was the one in charge.

"I'm Chris Miller, the production manager handling art and props for the crew."

Like he was reading from a script, the middle-aged guy introduced himself and then gestured to the back, saying, "This is the producer of the crew, Mr. Bruce Berman."

"Hey, Mr. Miller," Frank greeted politely. "Hey, Mr. Berman."

Both of them just nodded. Chris then said, "Alright, let's get started. Give us a quick intro about yourself."

"I'm Frank, from Los Angeles."

Having prepped a ton over the past couple of days, Frank rattled off his polished resume, adding a bit of flair to his few notable experiences. "Mr. Miller, even though I was freelancing before, I've been self-teaching film art design."

At this point, Frank opened his file folder and laid out a stack of sketches on the desk. "These are some drawings I whipped up, inspired by 'The Matrix.'"

Chris picked up the sketches and started flipping through them. While the drawing skills weren't mind-blowing, the style was eye-catching. It had that classic dark cyberpunk vibe, with both the backgrounds and characters screaming one thing—cool!

The other two didn't notice that Frank was subtly watching Chris's reactions. When the moment felt right, he chimed in, "I personally think that philosophical reflection is the heart of this series, and the super cool visual style is its main draw."

Why did "The Matrix" blow up? Bruce knew it wasn't really about the deep philosophical stuff critics loved to rave about. The real reason? The movie was just insanely cool.

Hearing the young guy say this, Bruce couldn't help but take a closer look. This kid had a tall, strong build. Even sitting down, he had this hidden toughness about him, especially with those faint scars on his chiseled face and the short brown stubble on his head. He looked like someone you wouldn't want to mess with.

Whether he was a good guy or not, Bruce didn't care. Hollywood wasn't a place for good guys to thrive.

Bruce's eyes stayed on Frank, not just because what Frank said matched the vibe they were going for in the next two films, but also because Frank seemed oddly familiar, like he'd seen him in the media ages ago.

"I really need this job."

Sitting in the chair, Frank kept pushing his case. "This is a career where I can learn and grow. I work hard, have big goals, and people around me say I'm persistent and honest."

These words rolled off Frank's tongue without him even blinking. "I grew up with the self-esteem movement and was a favorite in school. I used to focus only on my own needs, but I know today's workplace isn't about job loyalty like it was for the previous generation."

Prison was a tough place, and being hard all the time wouldn't get you far. A year was enough for Frank to learn what to say and when. "My motto is that if you work hard, you'll get rewarded."

He looked at the interviewers and said seriously, "People like you, successful people, didn't get there by luck. It was all about hard work."

Chris nodded slightly. If Frank's resume wasn't so thin, he could've easily passed this initial interview and moved on to the tougher rounds.

This kid was polite, confident, and knew how to play it humble. Chris was ready to give him a shot.

Just as he was about to speak, Bruce's voice cut in from behind, "Young man, you said you were a freelancer before. What kind of work did you do?"

Frank could tell he was making a good impression, but the guy behind him could flip the script. He didn't hesitate; there was no hiding the truth anyway.

"Freelance journalist, mostly covering social and current affairs news," he said.

Bruce seemed to have a lightbulb moment and stared at him again, asking, "What did you say your name was?"

"Frank," Frank replied.

"Frank?" Bruce repeated softly, a strange smile creeping onto his lips. "I remember now. You're the journalist who broke into Paul’s house last year and injured a British director, the one the media went nuts about?"

Seeing the look on Bruce's face, Frank's heart sank. He clarified, "Sorry, sir, I think I should correct that. It was an accidental injury."

Word was, the director had some brain issues from the injury and might never make films again.

Thinking about what his past self had done, Frank felt a bit guilty, but that guilt was minimal. After all, he had paid a year's precious time for it. The guilt was far outweighed by frustration and resentment.

It was a weird feeling, hating Paul but knowing there was nothing he could do about it.

"Interesting, someone who dared to attack a film director wants to join the film industry."

Even though Paul had never publicly responded to the incident, everyone in Hollywood knew he had personally pressured the LA police. Even if this project had little to do with Viacom, Bruce didn't want to hire someone who dared to attack a film director. That would make them a laughingstock in the industry.

"NO!"

He only said one word to Frank.

Frank clenched his fist lightly and took a deep breath. This was the best shot he had right now. He didn't want to leave or give up just like that.

Think about it. With the experience of working on super projects like the two sequels to "The Matrix," the future would definitely be much smoother.