Urban System in America-Chapter 245 - 244: Signing The Contract

With the heavy part handled and Aren still reeling from the emotional weight of it all, Rex leaned back in his seat like a king who had just settled a treaty. Then, as casually as if he were ordering another drink, he lifted a hand and flagged down a nearby waiter.

As the waiter leaned in politely, Rex whispered something in his ear—just a few quiet words. Whatever it was, the waiter gave a respectful nod, murmured, "Of course, sir," and glided off into the crowd without another word.

Aren, watching the exchange, furrowed his brow. "What was that?" he asked, voice dipping with curiosity.

Rex didn’t answer. He just smiled in that enigmatic, slightly smug way of his and said, "Just give it a moment."

Aren nodded slowly, unsure what to expect. He figured maybe Rex had ordered some champagne or an expensive bottle of wine to celebrate the moment—after all, wasn’t that what people in Hollywood did? Toasted success with overpriced bubbles?

But that illusion shattered quickly.

Because instead of returning with a silver tray or crystal glasses, the waiter came back escorting someone else entirely—a sharply dressed man in a charcoal-gray suit, perfectly tailored and clearly expensive. He carried a sleek leather briefcase and moved with quiet precision, his expression unreadable behind steel-framed glasses.

The man exuded the kind of vibe that made Aren straighten in his seat without knowing why. This wasn’t a sommelier.

This was a lawyer.

Aren blinked. "Wait—is that a lawyer?"

"Mm-hmm," Rex replied with a satisfied hum, barely glancing up as the man approached. "This place keeps legal staff on call for business meetings. Comes in handy when you’re not in the mood for endless back-and-forths."

Rex gave a cool nod of greeting as the man approached, motioning to the empty seat beside them. "Right on time," he said.

The lawyer, efficient to the core, placed a sleek leather folder on the table, unclasped it with a practiced flick, and pulled out a slim folder. Inside was a clean, short-form contract—just a few pages, but the paper carried weight.

Aren blinked, trying to catch up. "Wait... is this...?"

"Standard preliminary agreement," Rex replied smoothly. "Legally binding, of course, but we’ll hash out the full deal later—shares, schedules, backend points, all that fun stuff."

The lawyer took the documents, and slid it towards Rex.

Rex didn’t open it right away. Instead, he leaned toward the lawyer slightly, speaking in a low, measured voice—just between the two of them.

"Let’s add a few touches," he said. "The basics, of course—name, project title, price point, preliminary rights transfer—but let’s make sure the clause about ownership is ironclad. Full creative and distribution rights revert solely to me. He can’t shop this around later."

The lawyer gave a subtle nod, already noting it down.

"Oh," Rex added, with a small, thoughtful pause, "and let’s be extra careful. Add a non-compete and a non-disclosure. And while we’re at it—slap on a penalty clause. Something stiff. If he breaches this deal, I want it to hurt. Think... six figures minimum."

The lawyer didn’t even blink. "Enforceable?"

"If we ever need to enforce it, he’ll already have lost," Rex said with a faint smile. "Just make it loud enough to keep him honest."

Aren watched with a mounting sense of unease as lawyer made some ’simple additions’—nothing dramatic, nothing flashy, just a few tweaks here and there.

Satisfied, he leaned back as the lawyer quickly made the amendments in crisp handwriting, filling in the relevant blanks with practiced precision. Once it was ready, the lawyer uncapped a sleek fountain pen and handed it to Rex.

He took the pen with ease and signed with a fluid motion, like he was autographing a poster rather than locking down a project. Then, he slid it across the table toward Aren.

The weight of the moment hit Aren all at once. This wasn’t a casual dinner anymore. This wasn’t just a dream or a possibility. This was real—far more real than he’d been prepared for.

His fingers trembled slightly as he picked up the papers. The contract in front of him might’ve only been a few sheets of paper, but it felt heavier than a screenplay, heavier than a camera rig, heavier than all the rejection letters he’d ever received. 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

Because signing it wasn’t just about agreeing to terms—it was stepping through a door that could only swing one way.

He flipped through the pages, trying to focus. The more he read, the more his eyes twitched.

"Just formalities," Rex added lightly, not looking up. "You know, basic info, script reference, agreed price..." He casually underlined the figure—twenty thousand dollars—which already made Aren’s eyes bulge. "Ownership division... and so on."

Then his gaze landed on the penalty clause—and his breath caught in his throat. His heart skipped and his stomach lurched.

"T-this penalty..." he stammered.

"Mm-hmm," Rex replied, as if they were discussing late fees at a library. "Say, if someone decides to back out last minute, or leak something they shouldn’t, or—you know—tries to get clever. It’s just... insurance."

Aren tried not to swallow too loudly. His eyes scanned the clause again, disbelief creeping across his face.

It was a sum so large, it made the twenty grand look like pocket change. A penalty so steep it would’ve taken him decades to pay off with three jobs and no sleep. He couldn’t even imagine having that kind of money to begin with, let alone paying it as a forfeit.

"Just in case," Rex added with a smile. "Always better to be careful. I’m sure you understand."

Aren nodded numbly, though he wasn’t sure what he understood anymore. But something about Rex’s calm assurance—the effortless way he’d handled everything—made resistance feel pointless. This was a lifeline, yes, but it came wrapped in steel chains.

He stared down at the folder like it was a loaded weapon.

With a shaky breath, he picked up the pen Rex handed him, fingers trembling as they hovered over the signature line. His eyes flicked one last time to the penalty clause—He’d never seen so many zeroes after a dollar sign in his life—and they were all waiting for him if he so much as sneezed wrong.

But Rex didn’t say a word. Just sat there with that calm, polite smile, like he already knew how this would end.

(End of Chapter)