"Naomi, call for help..."
It was rare for Duke to curse, but he spat out a string of expletives as he sprinted out of the studio, racing across the wide asphalt road. He grabbed a fire extinguisher, which was mandatory in the warehouse area, and dashed to the warehouse door.
The smell of burning grew stronger, and small sparks could be seen seeping through the gap at the bottom of the warehouse door. The fire had clearly started inside, where there were flammable materials like sets and props. The searing heat was palpable, indicating the fire inside was already intense.
Just as Duke reached the door, bright flames shot out from the gap, forcing him to stop in his tracks. Even so, he could smell the stench of singed hair.
In no time, the air seemed to catch fire, and the sound of hurried footsteps, shouting, and the blaring of alarms echoed through the production lot as personnel rushed to the scene.
The fire quickly spread to the top of the warehouse, illuminating half the sky. Duke aimed the fire extinguisher at the flames that had spread outside, spraying them furiously. Although running away from the fire was the smarter choice, the warehouse contained the film reels the crew had worked tirelessly on for the past six months!
A woman’s voice shouted from behind him, "It’s dangerous! Do you want to die? Are you crazy? Get out of here!"
Naomi Watts, barefoot after abandoning her high heels somewhere, saw Duke’s tall, determined figure and, without a second thought, rushed toward him despite the searing heat and the risk of burns.
Aside from the roaring fire and the increasingly loud commotion, the only other sound Naomi heard was Duke cursing.
She had never seen Duke lose his cool , but she understood why. Duke was deeply committed to his work, and this fire threatened to destroy not only the crew’s hard work but also his future and hope.
"Fire extinguisher! I need another fire extinguisher!" Duke, now holding an empty one, was more frantic and enraged than Naomi had ever seen.
The air was thick with smoke, and Naomi tugged desperately at Duke’s arm, struggling to breathe. He wouldn’t budge, and in her panic, she bit down hard on his shoulder, her lips instantly stained with ash.
"Are you insane, Duke?" she yelled with all her strength.
The pain in his shoulder briefly outweighed his urgency, and Duke cursed again before picking Naomi up and rushing her out of the danger zone.
More and more people arrived on the scene, and soon after, firefighters showed up, quickly bringing the fire under control.
Standing by the entrance of the studio opposite the burning warehouse, Duke slowly regained his composure. Though the air was still thick with heat and his smoke-covered skin stung, his heart felt cold. The fire had started inside the warehouse, and with the highly flammable film reels stored inside, the outcome was all too clear.
His anxiety and anger gradually turned into cold logic. Why had the fire started from within? Why hadn’t the warehouse’s fire safety measures worked? Why was this specific warehouse the one that caught fire? And why did it destroy only the equipment and film reels for *The Rock*?
Yes, fires happen almost annually at Hollywood studios, even affecting films like *Forrest Gump* and *Batman*, and no one ever truly understands how they start. But why did this one happen just after the crew had wrapped?
"Duke..." Naomi’s worried voice broke through his thoughts. "Are you okay? You scared me."
"Sorry..." Duke turned to her and gently pinched her soot-covered cheek.
Naomi Watts looked just as disheveled as Duke. Her small face was blackened with soot, making her look like she had come straight from a tribe in Africa. Her golden curls smelled faintly of singe, the ends curling up from the heat. Her once-silver dress was now stained with dirt, a patchy mix of black and white.
Her high heels had been kicked off at some point, and there was a faint trace of red between the toes of her dirty left foot.
Duke took off his jacket and draped it over Naomi’s shoulders. "Thank you," he said seriously.
If she hadn’t risked her safety to pull him out, Duke wasn’t sure what he would have done—maybe he would have tossed aside the fire extinguisher and run away, or maybe he would have charged into the fire to try and save the film reels. Those reels represented his future and hope! They were the opportunity he had fought for over two lifetimes.
Naomi Watts had saved him from the possibility of injury, and Duke knew there wouldn’t be another chance to reset his life.
"Thank you, Naomi." Duke repeated his gratitude. Naomi clung to his arm, as if afraid he might rush back into the fire, and forced a smile. "We’re friends, after all."
Duke glanced at her disheveled face and sighed inwardly. The two were merely casual partners, yet she had risked getting burned to help him. Fire is merciless, after all. This is a highly commercialized world, and self-preservation usually trumps everything.
There was no denying Naomi was a pragmatic woman, but could anyone in Hollywood, from the biggest stars to the smallest actors, really be anything else?
Actions speak louder than words, and Duke’s opinion of Naomi Watts shifted slightly. In a way, he owed her a favor now.
Would he have a chance to repay it?
As more people surrounded the now-extinguished warehouse, Duke allowed a faint, bitter smile to tug at his lips.
Duke called out to the night manager at Warner Bros., who quickly ran over.
"What’s the situation?" Duke asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
"Some of the props and cameras were destroyed." Reed knew what Duke was most concerned about and quickly added, "As for the film reels... there’s no trace of them."
Duke nodded slightly and waved Reed off, his helpless smile deepening.
In a fire , highly flammable film reels wouldn’t have stood a chance. They were likely reduced to ash. The months of hard work, the millions of dollars spent—it had all gone up in flames.
The sound of rapid footsteps in high heels echoed as Sofia Coppola ran toward him, lifting her dress as she hurried. She was still wearing her party clothes, having clearly rushed back from somewhere.
She nearly crashed into Duke, grabbing his shirt collar and inspecting him closely before exhaling in relief.
"I’m fine," Duke reassured her with a gesture.
"You’re just like a goddamn..." Sofia swallowed the curse word she almost uttered. Duke frowned and muttered, "The film reels are gone."
Sofia raised her eyebrows, stepped back, and crossed her arms, giving Duke a curious look. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡~𝙛𝙞𝙧𝙚~𝙣𝙚𝙩
"Is something wrong?" Duke frowned even more deeply.
"Nothing," Sofia said with a teasing expression. "I just wanted to see if the unshakable Duke Rosenberg would finally crack."
"Sofia, I’m not in the mood for jokes."
"I’m not joking," Sofia replied, rolling her eyes. "The film reels are safe."
"Safe?" Duke repeated instinctively.
"They’re at the Warner Bros. processing lab!" Sofia took another step back, pulling her arm free from Duke’s grasp as she rubbed the sore spot. "Robin and I delivered the reels there last night when we got back to L.A. Did you forget? You agreed to let me make a copy!"
"Why didn’t you tell me?" Duke looked up at the sky, one hand resting on his forehead. The relief after the sudden release of tension made him feel slightly dizzy. "Why didn’t anyone inform me?"
"You forgot..." Sofia blinked, reminding Duke. "I told you on the electric cart... oh, sorry! I didn’t finish because Nicola interrupted us."
"I’m going to kill you both!" Duke gritted his teeth.
"Feel free," Sofia replied, though she motioned for someone to bring out chairs from the studio. She placed one behind Duke and gently nudged him.
"Sit down and take a break."
After that, she handed Duke a bottle of water, but instead of drinking it, he passed it to Naomi Watts, who sat on the other side. Sofia, seeing all this, frowned slightly but said nothing.
The fire had been extinguished, and the warehouse still stood, though most of the flammable materials inside had turned to ash. Before long, two production managers and a Warner Bros. executive arrived on the scene.
"Robin and I sent the reels to Warner’s processing lab last night," Sofia confirmed, and her words allowed everyone to breathe a sigh of relief. While three cameras and numerous rented props had been destroyed, the total loss was only in the tens of thousands of dollars. If the film reels had been lost, the project might have been ruined entirely.
"I remember the warehouse had a manager!"
As Duke’s mind eased, he recalled more suspicious details. "Why was I the first one to reach the scene when the fire started?"
"He was at the party and got drunk," Charles Roven explained.
Duke could only sigh. Hollywood studios had long been plagued by lax management, and this wasn’t the first time an accident had occurred. Despite the many disasters over the years, little had changed, especially with the security guards and managers who often got their jobs through connections. Expecting them to take responsibility was a tall order.
Although the fire investigation had yet to yield any conclusions, on the surface, it looked just like many of the fires that had occurred in Hollywood studios over the years.