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“And that,” she says with a playful smile.
My movie studio is close to number one, but there is always work to be done. Thunder rumbles, and I examine the cloud banks.
Through the rain and across the studio lot, I see my attorney, Charles, next to the black chopper. As I run, I mumble low, “Fucking show business.”
The chopper skimsover NYC and towards the heavier weather. I read another finance offer in the back, before I put it aside. More unworkable capital. As I look out the window, buildings streak below. I dislike spending so much time on sets, it’s where I lived from the age of fifteen until I was twenty-five.
I stopped living on sets ten years ago. That’s when I started financing films fulltime, and working with entertainment banks, studios and film sales companies.
It is more cerebral, more satisfying, and more trying.
After Charles and I discuss outstanding legal issues of the week, we drop him, his PA, and my PA, Emily, onto the roof of our offices in Tribeca.
As I climb into the front seat, and pull on the headset, my regular pilot climbs into the copilot seat. I pilot my chopper, as often as I can, because it gives me quiet time.
This way, I cannot read movie scripts, cannot talk to stars, and cannot talk to banks. I must stay in the zone. To rest my mind, and to feel, and not think calms me.
It’s nearly impossible to think of a movie, TV, or media deal while flying a fast chopper. I also get to bypass New York’s notorious traffic.
As I bank my chopper over Manhattan, and Soho, the winds pick up. The rain is now cascading down, and it will be good to put the chopper on my penthouse helipad in one piece.
It will also be good to be home, where excluding bankers, I plan to not see anyone for an entire week.
I aim to lock myself away from the world, read screenplays, and limit communications to a Zoom call a day when not arranging more capital.
Constantly keeping all of my wealth on the line, and in high-risk movie and media projects, is intense.
Most movie studio bosses do it, but very few own their own companies. They are making moves with little risk. If I drop the ball, I lose it all.
The chopper shakes, like a woman shuddering with aftershocks and I bring it in sideways. The winds are bad, and if I get it wrong we’re toast.
As rain streams down, I drop us between my statues in the Upper East Side. From this height, we can still see right across NYC.
I flick my eyes quickly around, we are just clear of the marble eagle and other statues on the penthouse roof.
As I kill the power, the chopper drops, and we lightly hit the deck.
I climb from my chopper with the scripts, and I think about making a call. I have not taken anyone for a month, and I need to let off steam. I need to slide into someone, I need to stretch them wide.
2
STORM
As I drive north, towards New York City, I have time to think. Things have moved fast in the last month, but it’s good, I guess. The job interview over Zoom went well, and the job offer was great.
They got confused, like most at the start, about my name.
Ever since I was a kid, I’ve been calledStorm. The nickname came from my folks, because I was born in a wild storm. Somehow it just stuck, and no one calls me Georgia.
As I think back to the last few weeks, images and moments woosh by.
Me quitting my old job. Me saying goodbye to friends. And me saying goodbye to Mom and my small family.
Even if I’m nervous, I’m excited, because this way, I have to meet someone. I wasn’t meeting guys back home, but maybe, it was my fault. Being a recluse book worm is one thing. Being a little curvy, and not focusing on my looks much, likely not much help.
I’m not out of shape, but I do not hit the gym. It’s just not me.
I’ve always considered myself an ugly duckling, but maybe that is just my lack of confidence. I am not on any dating apps, but as soon as I get to NYC, that is going to change.
