Illusiveone
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169: Redoing my Life, Going Public and Picking Suits
🕑 Added 2025-02-14 08:20:26 +0000 UTC170 and 171 will be posted after I post new Chapter for The Son of Ice and Fire
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It had been a fantastic two months since The Batman was released. I felt like a huge burden had been lifted after its massively positive critical and audience reception. The box office numbers were even more insane—The Batman was now on track to hit 1.4 billion by the end of its run, surpassing every projection we had initially made.
I had just woken up and made myself some coffee. As I scrolled through my iPad, checking the latest news, one article caught my eye: “The Avengers Passes 1 Billion – Can It Surpass The Batman?”
I smirked. Of course it did. Marvel had been building up to this moment for years. The hype surrounding The Avengers was just as strong as The Batman’s, if not stronger in some circles. Analysts were now predicting that it would either match or slightly surpass The Batman’s total. The media had already coined this as “The Franchise Wars,” and some even speculated that the rivalry between the MCU and the DCU would define cinema for the next decade.
And honestly? They weren’t wrong.
Unlike my past life, where the MCU had completely dominated, this time things were shaping up to be different. DC had arrived just in time to the party and wasn’t playing catch-up anymore. Plus, it also had more competent people guiding it.
It wasn’t just Marvel and DC anymore, either. The entire industry was reacting.
Fox had recently announced a reboot of their X-Men franchise, aiming to rebuild it from the ground up. They had even reached out to me to discuss potential involvement.
Other studios were also looking to create their own cinematic universes, with Universal beginning to plan their Dark Universe. I really wanted some influence on that, given it had been a disaster in my previous life, but I was too busy to even consider it. Then again, I did have contacts within Universal—maybe I could plant some ideas with a few execs.
Marvel wouldn’t be having a monopoly on the genre—both superhero and cinematic universes—this time. They had competition now.
I saw Margot walk in, her blonde hair slightly messy as she shuffled into the kitchen wearing her nightwear.
“Coffee…” she mumbled sleepily as she plopped down onto a chair.
I smirked and poured her a cup, sliding it across the counter.
She took a slow sip, her eyes blinking away the sleep.
Margot had been having a good year as well—her career was thriving, and she was gaining more recognition. But behind the scenes, there was an issue brewing: her agent. He wasn’t getting her the roles she wanted. She had just come off the big success of Bonnie and Clyde, and her agent messed up by not capitalizing on it. This had turned into a mini-crisis for her. We had argued about it the night before, and I knew the tension still lingered.
“Maybe you should look for a new agent,” I suggested, bringing up the very thing that had caused the argument.
She shot me a glare over the rim of her mug. “No, I don’t. I thought I explained that to you.”
I sighed. “Look, I don’t know what to—”
“Then don’t,” she cut me off, annoyed, before standing up and walking away.
I followed her. “Maybe you should take a break,” I said, keeping my tone gentle. “You’ve been talking about visiting your family for a while now.”
She turned, folding her arms. “Yeah, I wanted to go to Australia… with you. But oh wait, you can’t because you’re scared of spiders.”
I held up my hands. “Hey, hey—when we started dating, I told you one thing: I will never step foot in Australia. Nope. Never. New Zealand? Sure. But not Australia.”
Margot rolled her eyes. “Unbelievable.”
“Maybe your mom can come visit like last time,” I suggested.
She didn’t respond. Instead, her phone rang, and she picked it up, walking away as she answered.
I let out a deep sigh and ran a hand through my hair. Great.
Shaking it off, I made my way to the bedroom to get ready. Today was a big day—a very big day. I had a very important board meeting to attend at Stardust.
The company was about to go public.
And everything was about to change.
Stardust was still a private company, even after its merger with Nebula. However, with The Batman’s massive success, the board had decided to speed up plans for taking the company public.
I wasn’t surprised. The board was seeing dollar signs—why wouldn’t they? Stardust had found itself at the center of the hottest franchise of the decade. It was the perfect time to go public.
But that didn’t mean I wasn’t worried.
Going public meant more money, yes. Billions in investments would come in, opening up new opportunities for funding. But it also meant new pressures: investors, shareholders, quarterly earnings reports. The focus would shift to how much money we could make, and how quickly. Sometimes, studios wouldn’t even care about the quality of the movies.
It was a slippery slope.
In my previous life, I’d seen how chasing short-term profits had ruined the DCEU—how rushed decisions and corporate meddling had turned what could’ve been a golden era of superhero cinema for DC into a cautionary tale.
I refused to let that happen again.
Luckily, I wasn’t alone in this. Dave, Victor, and Chris were all on the same page. Many of the executives were, too. For now, at least, things were under control.
I got dressed, adjusting my blazer as I walked into the living room.
Margot was still on the couch, now only in her bra and underwear, her nightdress tossed onto the floor.
I raised an eyebrow. “So, umm… you just gonna wallow here all day?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
I shrugged. “Just don’t eat all the ice cream like you did yesterday.”
She stretched out lazily and smirked. “No promises.”
Shaking my head, I grabbed the keys to my car and walked out the door.
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My first destination was Caleb’s studio, my mind already running through the checklist of things I needed to get done today. Caleb had told me to come by because he had finished some Superman suits and wanted me to pick which direction we should go after seeing them.
Caleb, though primarily working under Midas, had also secured a contract with DC for superhero costume design—thanks to some nudging on my end. It wasn’t just about getting him work; it was about ensuring the right hands were shaping the look of certain characters in the DCU.
We were starting with Superman.
I already had plenty of creative control over the projects—being the CCO, after all—but having Caleb involved meant a level of familiarity and trust I valued. He understood my vision, and more importantly, he knew how to execute it. I had always struggled to connect with some of the other designers for Batman and Wonder Woman, but Caleb was different.
I pulled up to his studio. The large glass windows reflected the morning sun, and I could already see movement inside: designers rushing around with fabric samples in hand, mannequins dressed in various outfits.
As I stepped out of the car and walked to the entrance, the front door swung open, and Haley greeted me with a smirk.
“Hey,” I said, walking up to her.
“Hey yourself,” Haley replied, eyeing my outfit. “Why so dressed up? Got a fancy date or something?”
I adjusted my blazer. “Important board meeting.”
Haley nodded. “Oh, right. I did see something about your studio on the news.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Haley Dunphy watching the news? I’m shocked. Truly, I am.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, no. My roommate’s a huge nerd, and she always has CNBC or whatever playing in the background. I can’t escape it.”
“And here I thought you were having character development.”
Haley playfully punched me in the stomach as she led me inside.
We chatted as we walked, weaving through rows of workstations where Caleb’s small team was busy assembling outfits. As we approached the back of the studio, I spotted Caleb himself, standing with his arms crossed, scrutinizing an outfit on a mannequin while one of his designers nervously explained her work.
“This stitching is sloppy,” Caleb said, shaking his head. “And this material—did you even test it under stress? It warps when stretched.”
The designer looked like she wanted to shrink into the floor. “I—I’ll fix it.”
Caleb sighed, rubbing his forehead. “We’re not designing Halloween costumes here. These outfits have to work in real action scenes. Go back, redo the stitching, and swap out the material for the one I approved last week.”
As the designer scurried away, I turned to Haley. “Jeez. Ever been on the receiving end of that?”
Haley snorted. “Please. Caleb’s a sweetheart. This is nothing. You should see some of the other designers in the industry.”
“Oh?”
She smirked. “One time, I saw a designer slap an intern because they used the wrong thread. And don’t even get me started on models. One of them literally ate ice cubes for an entire week just to ‘thin out’ for a shoot.”
I winced. “Yikes.”
Caleb spotted me and walked over with a smile on his face. His sharp eyes scanned me from head to toe before he even bothered with a greeting.
“Oh, Daniel, perfect timing,” he said, then his expression twisted in disapproval. “Wait, what is this?”
I frowned. “What?”
He gestured at my suit, looking at it like it personally offended him. “This outfit. This monstrosity. Is this for something professional?”
“Yeah, I have a big meeting,” I replied, adjusting my jacket.
Caleb shook his head. “No.”
“No?”
“Yes, no,” he repeated, waving his hands. “You need something better, not this. Where’s that girlfriend of yours? I thought I told her to make sure you dress properly.”
I sighed. “There’s nothing wrong with this outfit.”
“We’ll deal with you later,” he said, exasperated. “First, let me show you the suits.”
Caleb turned and led me toward the back of the workshop, where the Superman suits were being kept. As we walked, he glanced over his shoulder. “By the way, why didn’t you come to the party? I invited you.”
I rubbed my temples. “I’m sorry. I told you—Stardust is going public. I’ve been very busy.”
And that wasn’t an understatement. The lead-up to going public was one of the most crucial periods for Stardust Entertainment. Before the IPO, we needed to generate as much hype as possible. The stronger the demand for our stock, the higher the IPO price—and that meant one thing: laying out a clear roadmap for the future of the DCU.
Investors loved certainty. They needed a reason to believe in the long-term profitability of our slate. That’s why we were using Comic-Con as our launchpad. It wasn’t just going to be a fan event—it was part of a larger roadshow, a strategic media blitz designed to convince potential investors that Stardust was the next big entertainment powerhouse.
Comic-Con would be massive.
We weren’t just announcing one or two movies—we were unveiling the entire slate leading up to the Justice League movie. It would be enough to dominate headlines for weeks and ensure that Stardust Entertainment became one of the most valuable stocks in the entertainment sector.
Caleb led Haley and me through a hallway, the hum of sewing machines and the murmur of designers critiquing fabrics fading as we entered a separate room. The lighting was dim at first, but as he flipped a switch, bright white LED lights flickered on, illuminating three mannequins standing proudly in the center of the space.
Three Superman suits.
I stepped forward, my eyes immediately locking onto the first one.
It was exactly as I had described to Caleb—the New 52 suit from my previous life, brought to reality with incredible accuracy. The design was sleek and modern, with a streamlined look that ditched the traditional trunks. The deep blue bodysuit had a subtle, textured pattern. The red belt and boots helped break up the design, while the iconic “S” emblem was raised and slightly metallic, catching the light just right.
I had to admit—it looked good.
Then my eyes moved to the second suit.
This one felt classic. A modernized take on Christopher Reeve’s Superman suit, it carried the DNA of the iconic ’80s look while making key upgrades. The bright blue spandex had been replaced with a more structured cloth material, still vibrant but no longer resembling a simple costume. The “S” shield was bold and slightly larger, the cape was a deeper red with a more natural drape, and then there were the trunks—the element that would no doubt spark debate across the internet.
Trunks or no trunks?
Henry Cavill had been very pro-trunks when we discussed it. He saw them as part of the character’s history, a defining trait of Superman’s classic look. The studio, on the other hand, hated them. They thought they looked outdated—almost silly.
Me? I didn’t really care one way or the other. But I knew this was going to be a huge point of contention moving forward.
Then I saw the third suit.
It caught me off guard.
This was the suit from Kingdom Come.
The darker, almost royal blue contrasted with the striking red-and-black “S” emblem on the chest. The cape attached to the suit with golden clasps, giving it a regal, almost godlike quality. The material looked heavier, as if it was meant for an older Superman—one who had seen too much and was returning to the fight one last time.
Caleb noticed my reaction and smirked. “That one? I made it after seeing the design online. I love it more than the others.”
I nodded. “Yeah… it’s great…”
Caleb beamed at my approval, stepping beside me as we examined the suits. “Daniel, baby, this is just the appetizer,” he said, throwing an arm around my shoulder. “I just need you to pick the style you want, and then? Oh-ho, then I really start working my magic.”
I stared at the three suits, my mind racing.
I had a big decision to make.
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