制霸好莱坞

"Name?""Jenny Jane Jefferson.""Age?""20 years old.""Education?""High school."

Cesare looked up from the folder and glanced at her. Jenny said, "What's the matter? I'm an orphan, my SAT scores are awful, and compared to a mediocre college, I might as well come to Hollywood early. At least now, my age is still an advantage."

"How did your family members die?" Cesare seemed to ignore Jenny's follow-up explanation. Jenny realized that he was constantly using various methods to assert control and disregarded her words, perhaps just to interrupt her rhythm.But this was an interview, not a confrontation. Appropriate sharpness could pique Cesare's interest, but constant confrontation might go too far.

"My father is a federal felon. I barely saw him since I was little. He's at Alabama State Prison, serving a 129-year sentence without parole." She spoke obediently, not embarrassed by discussing her family background, though she carried Jenny Jane's memories, she didn't inherit her emotions. "My mother ran away when I was a child, and I was raised by my grandmother until I was just over ten. Then she passed away, the bank took the house, and I was sent to a welfare institution. I grew up in foster care until I was 18 and graduated high school at 19 — for various reasons, I was a year behind other kids. Then I came to Hollywood."

"Any acting experience before this cameo?""None."Cesare raised an eyebrow for the first time, not much, but it was a rare sign of surprise from him. "What about drama club?""I went to a public school with a tight budget," Jenny said. "Dear, there were almost no decent extracurricular activities. And even if there were, I couldn't participate. I had to work. The welfare institution didn't pay for my pocket money."

Cesare put down his pen. His cold, assessing gaze returned, and Jenny felt like she was a piece of dead meat in his eyes, as if he was weighing her value in his mind.

"Let's lay things out clearly." Cesare wasn't really arrogant. Considering most people's reaction to Jenny's background, he could even be called open-minded. However, his indifference overshadowed all other qualities, and Jenny felt like he was embodying the phrase "business is business" to the extreme. "Jim is almost an idiot, no doubt about that. But at least he made it into CAA, so he must have some skills. I assume you have some acting talent."

Jenny replied, "I think I just proved that."She switched to the Marilyn Monroe mode — in fact, she could now channel Monroe without even empathizing, perhaps a side effect of too much past empathy — slightly reclining, eyes half-lidded, posture seductive yet subtle, lips slightly parted, voice lower, "Is that so, Mr. Vigeri?"

Facing the performance that could have stunned George, Cesare just curled the corner of his lips. "Not bad, you've got the hang of this type."

He switched gears, "But what I need is not just a sexy vase — what I'm missing right now is a rather rare resource."

Jenny was confused. In fact, she had been confused for a while. Jim, her agent at CAA, could easily talk to the company about signing her or find another, more convenient, senior agent to evaluate her and give advice. Why Cesare? Why rush to him?

She felt she was getting closer to the answer.

"I thought an agent would never mind having too many clients," she said, throwing Cesare an opening.

"That's not my style," Cesare replied, his hands resting on the table, his tone flat, "I only need the best clients right now."

"You mean the most famous?" Jenny asked. "Tom Hanks? Meg Ryan?"

"No," Cesare said, "I need the most talented clients. My last major client was Jennifer Bell, you must have heard of her."

Jenny blurted out, "Pearl Harbor!"

This surprised her because in her film database, Kate Beckinsale played the lead in Pearl Harbor, not Jennifer Bell. But in this world, Jennifer Bell was the lead actress. She was one of the most attention-grabbing faces in the U.S. in recent years, starring in various types of films, her future bright, directly threatening the veteran star Meg Ryan.

"Yes, Pearl Harbor," Cesare said. "I advised her not to take it, but she didn't listen. Anyway, she's no longer my client."

"She left CAA?" Jenny asked, puzzled. Usually, unless someone has become extremely successful or completed their first contract, the first agency contract is hard to break.

"CAA has a system where superstars are not just managed by one agent. This is called cross-business," Cesare said, as though it were someone else's problem, his handsome face showing no emotion. "Jennifer entered the A-list earlier this year and became a top-tier client. She now has several agents, and they don't mind sharing."

"And you do mind." Jenny said, feeling it was obvious. Cesare looked like someone who wouldn't share even a pizza.

"I don't share even my pizza," Cesare said. Jenny frowned — this was the second time Cesare and she had shared the same thought. "Of course, I don't share my clients. Here's the first thing you need to learn about me: I don't share."

"Okay, you don't share," Jenny said indifferently, "Got it. So, you're looking for Jennifer's replacement?"

"No, I'm looking for a specific type of person. Jennifer just proved by taking Pearl Harbor that she doesn't meet my requirements." Cesare corrected her, "We'll talk about that later. The point is, I'm not looking for a sexy type of actress. Specifically, I need someone who doesn't just have one skill or one face. And for you, what I doubt is whether you actually have acting skills. You just have two personalities — one is the one you're showing now."

He gestured at Jenny, almost as if summarizing her dullness and mediocrity. "The other is your sexy side, with some star power. You could become a small star for a specific type of role, even land on the big screen, and have some B-movie roles written just for you — not that there's anything wrong with that. But that little switch didn't prove you have acting talent. What I want to confirm now is whether you have real acting ability."

This person was so methodical, so unhurried. Jenny thought, but she wasn't annoyed by Cesare. In fact, she was even more methodical and unhurried than he was. Although she wasn't sure if she actually had acting skills, she was confident that, following her own methods, she would never lose at this game.

"You want to test me," she said, unable to suppress a smile, "Bring it on. Seriously, Mr. Vigeri, you really don't have to be polite. How about this, just pick a few roles from the recent blockbusters from the last two or three years? Of course, they have to be ones I've seen, you know, I'm not rich, I don't go to the theater for obscure films."

Cesare thought for a moment.

"Titanic, Rose Bukater."

As expected, he picked a film Jenny was sure to have seen.

Jenny smiled.

Actually, with the amount of practice she had with Titanic, even without empathy, she could perform in her own style. But for safety, she decided to use empathy.

In that moment, Rose's life rushed toward her. She was floating on the sea, every breath carrying a cold, salty pain. Death hovered behind her, and her lover's life was hanging by a thread. His handsome face was covered with a light frost. She could feel his life would forever remain frozen in that moment, in that icy sea.

But he told her not to let go. Never say goodbye.

"I'll never let go," she whispered, almost angrily. They had gone through so much together. Despite only being a short journey, it meant more to her than any doctor could. She couldn't let go of this, not after Jack had taught her the joy of life. For him, for herself, she had to hold on to the very end.

She wiped her eyes with a tissue, then faced Cesare, spreading her hands. "Ta-dah."

Cesare's expression finally showed a subtle change, but he didn't lose composure. He stared at Jenny for more than ten seconds, then lowered his head, writing as he muttered, "Overly saturated performance, feels excessive, undoubtedly an experiential actor, not professionally trained, but very talented. With training, a lot of potential."

"Very talented, very talented," Jenny couldn't help but say, "I didn't know you knew how to compliment someone."

"This isn't a compliment, this is just the truth," Cesare set his pen down, suddenly turning serious. "Harry Potter, Professor McGonagall."

Jenny panicked for a moment, but of course, she had seen the famous series, just never practiced McGonagall. After a brief adjustment, she subconsciously tightened her arms, straightened her back, and unconsciously gave the first-years a suspicious, battle-hardened look — who knew what trouble they might cause her?

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she began, but before she could finish, Cesare cut in. "Stop."

He gave another prompt. "The Sixth Sense, Susan Parrish."

Jenny was getting a bit overwhelmed with the frequent empathy switches. Most importantly, she didn't remember much of this film, not even the classic scenes.

She awkwardly said, "Uh, could you wait a moment? I need to adjust."

"Does that mean you still have confidence in yourself?" Cesare asked.

Jenny calmly nodded.

"Then there's no need to try," Cesare made an unexpected decision, "I already know you're not someone who boasts."

"When does your afternoon shoot start?"

Cesare's topic changed quickly, always jumping abruptly from one point to the next. Jenny began to understand why Jim was so afraid of him — Jim was clearly not quick-thinking or organized.

But she was.

"1:15 PM," Jenny checked her watch. "It's 11:25 now. You've got 1 hour and 5 minutes to convince me."

For the first time since Jenny met him, Cesare smiled, though it was more of a puff through his nose. Still, his lips curved upward. "Let me tell you the plan. Now, you'll head back to the set, eat, change, do makeup, and I'll leave to handle business. I'll watch your performance this afternoon, and if you pass, I'll tell you why I should be your agent at dinner. Does that work for you?"

"But aren't you supposed to fly to New York?" Jenny asked, surprised.

Cesare pressed the intercom button. "Nala, cancel my flight to New York and tell them I'll go tomorrow."

Before Nala could respond, he released the button and continued talking to Jenny, "I was supposed to go to New York, but..."

"Do I really deserve for you to change your schedule?" Jenny asked back.

"You deserve for me to change my schedule," Cesare stood up, signaling for Jenny to leave with him. "But let me remind you, this isn't something you should negotiate with."

Jenny was sure now that Cesare was indeed impressed by her so-called 'talent'. Honestly, she was still struggling to accept it. Cesare had been so indifferent earlier, and even though he was now praising her and might even be showing interest, she still didn't feel he genuinely appreciated her performance.

"So," she walked with Cesare toward the elevator, "Jim, I mean, aren't you waiting for him?"

Cesare pressed the elevator button, walking in with her. "This should be your second lesson, Miss Jefferson." He gestured at his watch, "I'm very punctual."

The elevator doors closed, and Jenny stared at the smooth metal. After a while, she glanced at the digital billboard on the elevator wall.

In the corner of the display, a flashing number told her it was now 11:32.

She looked over at the tall, blonde man beside her, who was texting.

Cesare Vigeri really had a damn strong sense of time.