14. Osias #2
Osias placed his hand on her back, guiding her toward the studio entrance. “We have a Q&A to attend,” he said, his tone carrying just enough Alpha authority to make the crowd part without conscious thought.
The studio’s interior offered blessed relief from the chaos outside.
Marble floors gleamed under crystal chandeliers, and the atmosphere hummed with a restrained excitement that accompanied major industry events.
Other nominees milled about near the entrance to the press room—directors, producers, actors whose faces graced magazine covers and billboards worldwide.
But the press room itself was set up like a corporate boardroom designed for maximum visibility.
A long mahogany table dominated the space, ten chairs arranged precisely for the Best Picture nominees.
Camera crews positioned themselves strategically around the room, while entertainment journalists filled rows of seats that faced the table like a tribunal.
Osias pulled out Celina’s chair with deliberate care, a gesture that felt both protective and respectful.
She settled gracefully, smoothing her silk blouse as he took the seat beside her.
The other nominees arranged themselves along the table—household names whose combined box office earnings could fund small countries.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the moderator began, “welcome to our Best Picture nominees discussion. We’ll start with introductions, then move to questions. Ms. Bates, would you begin?”
Celina straightened, and Osias felt her confidence surge through their bond.
“I’m Celina Bates, founder of Bates Films. Our mission is simple—we believe the most powerful stories are the ones that refuse to compromise truth for comfort.
A Walk Toward Forever explores how love persists even when everything else falls apart.
It’s about two people who find each other in the aftermath of loss and choose to rebuild together rather than remain broken apart. ”
Her voice carried genuine passion, not the rehearsed polish of a publicity campaign. Around the table, other nominees leaned forward slightly, drawn by her authenticity in a room full of calculated presentations.
She was magnificent.
“The film matters because it reminds us that healing isn’t something we do alone,” she continued. “It’s something we choose to do together, even when—especially when—the world tells us we’re too damaged to deserve love.”
Applause rippled through the room, and Osias caught several journalists exchanging impressed glances. This wasn’t the manufactured sentiment they’d expected from a Hollywood actress promoting her project.
“Mr. Fellan?” the moderator prompted.
Osias stood up, his presence immediately commanding the room’s attention without effort.
“I’m Osias Fellan, founder and CEO of Fellan Entertainment.
Our company exists to amplify many voices.
But lately, we have been focusing on the voices the industry often ignores—lesser-known directors and writers with stories that don’t fit neat marketing categories.
” He paused, letting his gaze sweep across the assembled press.
“Sunny Monday represents that very commitment. It’s a film about a man who loses everything he thought defined him and discovers that sometimes destruction is just another word for liberation. ”
The explanation felt hollow compared to Celina’s passionate advocacy for her film, but it was honest. His company was evolving, partly because of her influence, partly because he’d grown tired of producing content that fed audiences sugar water instead of substance.
Questions began shortly after, ranging from thoughtful inquiries about creative processes to thinly veiled attempts at manufacturing controversy.
“Mr. Fellan, Ms. Bates—are you concerned that your personal relationship creates a conflict of interest?”
Osias felt irritation flash through their bond, but Celina’s response was immediate and unshakeable.
“The Academy votes on artistic merit, not personal relationships. Osias and I are both proud of our films, and whoever wins will have earned it. Art isn’t shaped by the artist’s happiness.”
“But surely there’s some competition between you two?”
“Only in the sense that we push each other to create better work,” Osias replied. “If Celina wins, I’ll be the first person celebrating and congratulating her. If I win, she’ll be right beside me cheering me on. That’s what partnership looks like.”
He caught movement in his peripheral vision and spotted Rennick seated in the back row designated for managers and industry professionals. The man’s expression was carefully neutral, but tension radiated from his posture like heat from asphalt.
The Q&A continued for another hour, covering everything from budget constraints to casting decisions to the future of independent filmmaking. Celina handled every question with a thoughtful intelligence that made reporters actually scribble notes instead of fishing for soundbites.
When the moderator finally called time, Osias felt a collective shift in the room’s energy.
Several journalists approached with follow-up questions, their tone noticeably more respectful than the paparazzi outside.
The narrative was changing—instead of dangerous and volatile, he was being seen as protective and supportive.
Progress.
When they were nearly to the exit, Rennick materialized beside them like smoke given form.
“Celina, why haven’t you returned my calls?” His voice carried the practiced calm of a man accustomed to managing crises, but Osias caught the underlying edge. “We need to discuss your Best Actress campaign strategy.”
Through their bond, Osias felt Celina’s emotional temperature drop several degrees. “I needed time to process what happened on set, and I needed space to think more clearly.”
“You can’t have space right now,” Rennick snapped, his composure cracking slightly. “The Oscar campaign requires constant attention. You can’t just disappear when you feel like it.”
Wrong approach.
Osias watched his mate’s spine straighten. “I’m done being treated this way,” Celina said, her voice carrying absolute finality. “Done being micromanaged and done with decisions made ‘for my benefit’ that somehow always benefit you instead.”
Rennick’s face went pale. “Celina, you’re being irrational—“
“You’re fired, Rennick. I don’t need you as my manager anymore.”
Rennick’s expression cycled through shock, disbelief, and finally fury so intense that Osias felt his lion stir in response to the threat.
For a moment, it seemed like Rennick might explode into the kind of scene that would feed gossip columns for weeks.
Then, without a word, he spun on his heel and stalked away, rage radiating from every line of his body.
Osias squeezed Celina’s hand, pride flooding their bond. “I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself.”
She smiled, the expression transforming her face from beautiful to radiant. “It was long overdue.”
As they walked toward the valet, Osias felt pieces clicking into place. Today, the press had seen them as partners rather than competitors and Celina had finally severed the toxic relationship that had controlled her for three decades.
Everything was finally moving in the right direction.