AN: Lacking PS guys and yeah, I'm greedy for PS. GIVE THEM TO ME.
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[Next Morning] [Max and Caroline's Apartment] [7:42 AM]
Claire's brain booted up like a Windows 98 computer trying to run Call of Duty. Slow. Loud. Confused. She blinked once. Then again. The ceiling above her was unfamiliar. The sheets smelled like lavender. Her tongue felt like it had lost a bet to a cactus.
She sat up slowly.
Instant headache. Full symphony. Strings section led by why did you drink like your therapist retired mid-session.
She winced and rubbed her temples, then looked around.
The room was clean, minimal. A bookshelf filled with romance novels and murder podcasts. A sleepy cat-shaped pillow. A framed photo of Max, Caroline, Alex, and what appeared to be a cupcake with sunglasses.
Claire squinted. "Where the hell....?"
"You're alive."
Max's voice came from the hallway like a judge announcing bail.
Claire turned her head too fast and instantly regretted it. "Ow. Why am I not in jail?"
Caroline followed Max in, holding two mugs. One labeled Don't Speak Until This Is Gone, the other Juiced till the last drop. She handed the latter to Claire.
"Drink this. It's water, electrolytes, and a splash of hope."
Claire took a sip. Gasped. "This tastes like pain and lemons had a baby."
Max plopped onto the bed beside her. "It's called a recovery cocktail. You're lucky we didn't just dump you in your own bathtub with a note."
Claire blinked at her. "Wait. Did I… did I dream all of that? Or did I actually make an impassioned monologue about perfume and vengeance to Alex Wilson?"
Caroline nodded calmly. "You did. With jazz hands."
Claire groaned and pulled the pillow over her face. "Please tell me he didn't say anything. Please tell me I didn't touch his face. Or call Scarlett 'Busty J.' Or say something about… was there a wolf?"
Max: "Yes. Yes. Yes. And yes."
Claire screamed into the pillow.
Caroline, deadpan: "Also, you're scheduled for a trial shoot on Wednesday. Alex approved it. Rachel knows you're coming."
Claire bolted upright. "WHAT?!"
Max nodded, sipping her coffee. "He said, and I quote: 'Fine. Give her ten minutes. Tell Rachel I said so.'"
Claire stared, slack-jawed. "So… I'm actually going to Wilson Studios? Me? Claire Guinness? Hangover-powered tragedy Barbie?"
Caroline nodded, "Yup. You've got four days to detox, get glam, and maybe learn how to walk in heels without looking like a deer on roller skates."
Claire blinked. "You think I can pull it off?"
Max shrugged. "Girl, last night you wrote a perfume commercial with your PTSD. You're already 80% chaos and 20% marketable."
Claire slowly lowered the mug and whispered, "This might be the beginning of my villain arc."
Caroline patted her shoulder. "Honey, this is the sequel. You just forgot the prequel had bad lighting."
Max raised her mug in salute. "To vengeance. To perfume. To Claire freakin' Guinness."
Claire clinked her mug against theirs. "Let's burn the world… with class and contour. No wait. I changed my mind. Let's burn that bastard's car with gasoline and matches."
..
[Meanwhile...]
[Titan HQ – Alex's Office – 8:12 AM]
Rachel stood beside Alex's desk, her tablet in hand, scrolling. Alex was just sitting and looking at the stats.
Rachel said while reading the comments. "It's blowing up."
Alex leaned back in his chair. "How bad?"
She gave a crooked smile. "The good kind of bad."
She then clicked the refresh button.
YouTube – Titan Studios Official Channel
Title: ALIEN | Official Teaser – 2006
Length: 0:25 seconds
Uploaded: 7 hours ago
Views: 3.4 million
Likes: 289k
Comments: 41,219
#1 on Trending
Alex muttered under his breath, "Damn."
Rachel nodded. "We hit front page on Ain't It Cool News. IGN picked it up at midnight. JoBlo did a write-up an hour ago. Reddit's eating itself with theories."
She flipped her tablet toward him, showing a comment thread.
[Did you see the eyes in the shadow at 0:07?
The egg sound is a slowed heartbeat, confirmed by a sound editor.
The freakin' spider like thing jump scared the soul outta me. Had to restart my router.
Please tell me this isn't PG-13. I want to scream in a theater again.
Alex Wilson is directing?? Holy f— yes. We are in for a horror sci-fi ride this time.]
Alex read through a few of the highlights, then sat forward. "We drop the full trailer next week. Let's aim for Tuesday night. Prime time release. Tease the date now, then roll out countdown banners across all platforms. Update the official sites by noon."
"Will do," Rachel said, flicking open another tab. "Also, Titan Comics stores. You asked how they're doing. Atlanta and Chicago both broke opening day records. Vegas store hit capacity on day two. Merch is selling faster than we expected. And we are going over the previous predicted profit margins by 15%."
"And the land acquisition issue in LA?" Alex asked.
Rachel lifted an eyebrow. "Handled. Title cleared this morning. The hold-up was a zoning error, not a competitor block. I got legal to fast-track the reclassification. You're greenlit to break ground next month."
Alex nodded. "Perfect."
Rachel tilted the tablet slightly. "Now, what you should actually be worrying about? The comic universe. Our official channels are getting swarmed. The fandom wants answers. They want to know if the Titan Comics titles are getting live-action or animated adaptations."
[Is "Spiderman" gonna be an animated series??
Live-action Justice League WHEN?
Please let Titan build a cinematic universe that doesn't suck.
I need a "Blade" anime or movie, or I will riot.
Is there a new series coming soon?
Alex Wilson> Stop teasing and give us confirmation. We KNOW you're cooking something. You always do.]
Alex leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled, his eyes locked on the flood of fandom chatter projected onto the wall screen. The YouTube comments scrolled like a living thing, hundreds of messages pouring in by the second. His Alien teaser was a hit, no question, but now the comic side of Titan was boiling. The people wanted a universe. A world. A promise.
Rachel stood to the side, watching him think.
"Give them something," she said.
Alex's fingers tapped twice against the desk.
"Alright. Pull up the PR template. I want a single graphic. Tease only two names. Let's give them a taste."
Rachel was already swiping on her tablet. "Which two?"
"Start with Spider-Man. Label it 'Your Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man – Animated Series in development.' Add a second title: 'Teen Titans Go – Early Development for Kids Programming.' Keep it simple. Just enough to cause a meltdown."
Rachel glanced up. "You're starting with animation?"
"For now," Alex said. "It buys us time to build the universe. Animation doesn't lock us into casting yet. It lets us shape tone, canon, style. Test the waters. And it gives the hardcore fans something to sink into while we map out the bigger slate."
He stood, crossed the room, and tapped a red-marked section on the Titan Studios whiteboard: "Phase One: Seed Projects." Two circles sat at the top. Marvel. DC.
Beneath Marvel: Spider-Man, X-Men, Blade, Fantastic Four.
Beneath DC: Justice League, Static Shock, Green Lantern, Teen Titans, Teen Titans Go.
"These two," Alex said, tapping Spider-Man and Teen Titans Go, "have the biggest immediate impact. Spidey's the icon. Teen Titans Go gives us the kids and the general cartoon market. Let's start with Season 1. Then, depending on the reaction, we'll see."
Rachel tapped the last few lines onto the draft message, her eyes narrowing. "Done. We'll get it up in a few hours."
Alex turned back toward her, voice calm but sharp. "Now I want you to quietly start assembling teams. Start with in-house pitches. Bring me concept artists. I want style boards, tone decks, and leave the writing part to me. Build me a team in a month."
...
...
[12:00 PM]
The morning rush had settled. Today, there was no shooting. Just meetings, planning, signatures, and the sound of a well-oiled empire running at full power.
Alex sat at his desk, surrounded by paper and more paper. The open folders in front of him, a mix of manuscript pages and branding proposals.
Rachel sat across from him, typing at her usual inhuman speed. Coffee beside her. Tablet to the left. A phone call active on the right. She was multitasking like a Wall Street octopus.
First meeting was done: The Hobbit Trilogy.
The senior editor from CrownFire Books had flown in just to get the signature. They'd gone over the cover designs, the limited-edition hardcover blueprints, and the marketing plan for the fantasy epic.
The book, simply titled The Hobbit Chronicles: Book I – The Hollow Peak, had already stirred up buzz online after he dropped that teaser poster with a golden ring hanging from a sword hilt last month. Fan pages speculated everything from a hidden elven kingdom to dragon wars.
The editor was giddy. "This trilogy, Alex? It's going to redefine fantasy literature for this generation. You're the name now. People want more than movies... they want lore."
Alex signed the last page of the agreement. "You'll get it. Maps. Languages. Timelines. I'm building a full world. And when we release the final book, I'm making a live-action adaptation of the first book."
Rachel slid the signed papers back into a folder without even glancing. "Next."
[12:45 PM] [Second meeting: Product Development – Titan Foods Division.]
In walked Jonas Eddrick, Head of Titan's Experimental Product Line. A former Olympic nutritionist with the fashion sense of a worn hiking boot and the brain of a food-science god. His clipboard had more tabs than a conspiracy wall.
"Alex," Jonas began, "you said you wanted a sports drink line that didn't taste like melted lollipops and cough syrups."
Alex nodded. "Exactly. No synthetic syrup. No chemical aftertaste. And I don't want it to be a copy of RB or Monster. This isn't about caffeine and neon cans. It's about culture. Story. Flavor."
Jonas pulled out a prototype can: TITAN FUEL: METAHUMAN BERRY. Purple design. Comic-panel art. The slogan: "Taste the Origin."
Rachel tilted her head. "Okay. That's sexy."
Alex leaned forward. "Every flavor needs to ring with a superhero archetype. No random mango-punch garbage. I want signature lines tied to Marvel and DC characters."
Jonas grinned. "Already ahead of you."
He laid out five can designs:
"Flash Charge" – Electro-Lime: citrus zing with guarana and electrolytes. Lightning bolt graphics.
"Spidey Silk" – Blue Raspberry + Coconut Water. Hydration focus. Web patterns.
"Dark Knight Roast" – Cold Brew Fusion with cocoa and spice. For late-night hustlers.
"Wonder Fuel" – Cherry-Pomegranate antioxidant blend. Feminine edge, fierce taste.
"Green Lantern Glow" – Matcha-apple fusion. Natural energy. No crash.
Rachel blinked. "You made superhero drinks that actually make sense."
"Formulated with zero artificial dyes. Natural extracts only. Stevia-sweetened for the lean blends, monk fruit for the bold ones. No jitters, no junk," Jonas said. "We tested with a local gym chain. Feedback was 89% positive, even before branding."
Alex turned to Rachel. "Now I need someone big. A name. Someone in sports nutrition or performance food science. I want this line to launch not just with influencers, but credibility. Find me the best in the business."
"I've already got a list," Rachel said, pulling up a tab. "Top three in the industry. One's ex-NASA. One built the diet plan for two NBA teams. Third? Former wrestler turned fitness nutrition mogul."
Alex nodded. "Reach out. Schedule a pitch session this week. Put Jane on this one."
He stood up, stretched, and walked to the wall where mock-ups of branding were posted beside early sketches of comic panels, movie stills, and fan art. Titan wasn't just a studio anymore. It was an ecosystem.
"I want the drink line to launch with lore," he added. "Short comics printed on the cans. AR codes that unlock animated teasers. The fans drink and enter the universe."
Rachel scribbled something down. "That's going to make the marketing team cry. In a good way."
Jonas chuckled. "You're reinventing sports drinks into fan merch."
"No," Alex said, turning around, voice sharp. "I'm turning hydration into culture. And when the first kid picks up 'Flash Charge' before his first track meet? I want him to feel like a hero."
Rachel stood, nodding. "I'll redirect all the info to Jane."
Alex checked the time. "Block out the rest of the day for meetings. But after six, I'm off the grid. No calls. I need to finish the next two chapters for Harley Quinn's redemption arc."
Rachel smirked. "Fiction or schedule-clearing fiction?"
"Both," Alex said. "And maybe a nap."
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Next Ch: A moment with Lilly
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