786-790

*Chapter 786: A Giant Buddha*

Whoosh. Whoosh, whoosh.

The cold wind howled, swirling and biting as it squeezed through the cracks into the house. Even though the doors and windows were shut, the freezing weather from the outside world could still be felt. The old wooden floorboards creaked, as if the entire apartment was swaying in the chill.

Looking up through the fogged-up window, the rusty fire escape ladder divided the skyscrapers of Manhattan Island into neat little blocks, like cubes of tofu. The gray lines of the buildings sketched the city’s outline amidst the drifting rain, giving it a unique charm.

Winter in New York makes you instinctively want to huddle up by the fireplace, hugging your knees and curling into a ball, quietly staring at the flames—like a cat, perfectly in sync.

This is why Michel Gondry and Charlie Kaufman insisted on filming in New York.

The weather, the environment, the atmosphere—it’s irreplaceable. Forget about CGI, even shooting in a different city would feel completely different.

When The Butterfly Effect was shot in Vancouver, it worked because the story wasn’t tied to any specific city. But Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind is different; this is a story set in New York, and it belongs to New York.

So, despite the high production costs, the crew still chose to film here.

The texture captured by the camera is something CGI could never replicate. And the emotions actors display when they’re immersed in a real environment are unmatched. That’s something unique to Charlie Kaufman’s scripts.

Hidden within his words are the pulse of the city, the lives of its people, and the atmosphere. Even without dialogue, you can feel the unique essence of the characters and the city they inhabit. It’s irreplaceable.

At this moment, Anson’s importance shines through.

It was Anson’s willingness to accept a low base salary with profit-sharing—much like John Travolta did for Pulp Fiction—that allowed Focus Features to maintain the $20 million production budget. This way, every penny could go toward making the film, turning Charlie Kaufman’s whimsical imagination into vivid scenes.

Not only Charlie but Michel also realized the importance of Anson.

Even before filming started, the entire crew was already grateful to Anson.

However, even with Anson agreeing to the profit-sharing deal, $20 million is still a drop in the bucket. Filming in New York is expensive, so the difference in filming locations is stark.

Spider-Man was filmed in Manhattan, Catch Me If You Can in Queens, but Eternal Sunshine was shot on the outskirts of Long Island.

Long Island is located about fifty miles southeast of Manhattan. It takes about an hour to drive or take a bus to Manhattan, and there’s also a suburban train connecting the two, with trains running every hour or two. The ride takes less than two hours.

People living on Long Island often commute by train, escaping the hustle and bustle of Manhattan. With its two coasts and a river on the other side, Long Island feels like a hidden paradise, offering residents a life of serenity by the sea.

In Growing Pains, the main family lived on Long Island.

Most of Eternal Sunshine was filmed here, with only a small part shot in Manhattan, helping the crew save on expenses.

The sky drizzled, the sound of crashing waves filled the air, and the entire long winter was devoid of sunlight, painting the world gray.

“Ah, New York.”

This kind of sigh comes naturally, thanks to Anson, whose contribution allowed Eternal Sunshine to be shot on Long Island.

Even before Anson joined the crew, his reputation preceded him.

However, gratitude is one thing, but work is another. If Anson couldn’t pull off the role, or if his performance was a disaster, not even a free appearance could save the production.

Also, because of Anson’s sacrifice, the crew had higher expectations for him. They genuinely hoped he wasn’t just taking a pay cut to rub shoulders with Charlie Kaufman and then walk away without caring about the film’s success.

So, the gratitude stays before the cameras start rolling. Once filming begins, professionalism and collaboration become the focus.

At least, from the initial impressions, everything seemed perfect.

Creak.

Grant Perkins pushed open the apartment door. As a member of the production crew, he had to arrive early to set everything up before filming began.

So, while they weren’t the first to arrive, they were among the first.

On top of that, today’s heavy rain had dropped temperatures to the lowest in two weeks. It was freezing, and while taking the train might have been easier, anyone driving was probably stuck in traffic.

Grant expected the set to be mostly empty.

He scanned the room.

As expected, only a few people were around, and the world seemed quiet and peaceful.

But every scattered gaze was fixed in the same direction.

Grant followed their eyes and immediately spotted the figure sitting cross-legged by the fireplace.

He was wearing an oversized dark green sweater, clearly not his regular size. The shoulders, sleeves, and hem were all too big, wrapping him up like a woolen blanket.

Oddly enough, while someone else wearing such an ill-fitting outfit would look like a disaster, on him, it exuded a lazy and casual vibe, made even more captivating by the flickering orange glow of the firelight.

Wait, who was he?

The full beard on his face gave him a weathered and tired appearance, his entire presence settled into the moment, making time seem to slow down with him.

His side profile flickered in and out of the fire’s light and shadow, making it hard to see clearly. On his knees was a script, which he was reading intently.

That script…

A lightbulb went off in Grant’s mind, nearly making him choke.

“… Anson? Cough, cough.”

In the end, he did choke.

Then.

The figure looked up at Grant and smiled.

“Good morning.”

After the brief greeting, he lowered his head and continued reading the script.

What was going on?

Could someone explain how, while they were arriving to set up for filming, a giant Buddha-like figure had already appeared here—and it was the biggest star in the cast?

Wait, is Anson a bigger star, or is Kate Winslet?

That wasn’t the point!

The point was, why was Anson here so early?

*Chapter 787: The Superstar Aura*

...Anson Wood?

That’s Anson?

Just like the rumors say, simply sitting there, he captures everyone’s attention without even trying. So, whose design is that forest green sweater?

Wait, no, stop! Focus! Get your thoughts back on track!

Grant could hardly believe his eyes. His brain was in a fog as he hurriedly and carefully tiptoed across the wooden floor, trying to avoid making any creaky noises as he stealthily approached his colleagues who had arrived at the set ahead of him.

Some of them he recognized, some he didn’t.

But right now, Grant didn’t have time for greetings. He quickly exchanged a glance with them, his eyes saying all he needed to say.

"What’s going on?"

He spoke in a low voice, maintaining a smile, though his words were forced out through gritted teeth. He kept his tone flat, not daring to raise his voice for fear of disturbing the 'dinosaur' in the room.

However...

The four people next to him exchanged worried glances, just as confused as Grant. It was clear they didn’t have the answers either.

One of them whispered as quietly as possible.

"I have the key. When I came to unlock the door, he was already sitting cross-legged outside the apartment. He even asked me, ‘Is this the set of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?’"

"Imagine how I felt. I nearly wet my pants on the spot."

"I don’t even remember how I responded. All I recall is him grinning and saying, ‘Good thing I found the right place.’"

And then?

Grant pressed for more details.

The guy looked bewildered, swallowed nervously, and shook his head repeatedly.

Even now, his mind was still a jumbled mess, and he hadn’t fully processed what happened.

Picture it: on the first day at a new company, the big boss shows up first, and all the new employees arrive late. What do you do?

Sure, the Eternal Sunshine crew had plenty of stars, but Anson’s recent rise to fame had been meteoric. He even turned down the Oscars to work on this project. No one could ignore his presence; the entire crew was buzzing with curiosity about this breakout star.

Now that Anson was here, it was as if a giant Buddha had arrived.

So, what now?

As everyone exchanged anxious glances, Anson’s voice broke the silence.

"Really, don’t mind me. I’m not a Dementor."

"I was just worried I’d get lost and be late on the first day of filming, so I showed up a little early. I just didn’t time my grand entrance right. I was hoping to make a big, dramatic appearance at the last minute."

"You all have your jobs to do, so go ahead and get on with them. No need to pay any attention to me."

He paused, then lifted his gaze from the script resting on his lap. The firelight reflected in his bright eyes, making them gleam.

"…Or, if I’m in the way here, I can wait outside. I don’t want to disturb your work."

With that, Anson began to stand up.

Grant panicked immediately. "No, no, no! Don’t!"

He shook his head vigorously, waving his hands in a frantic, full-body display of refusal.

Just imagine the scene: other crew members arrive at the apartment and find Anson sitting outside, looking like an abandoned stray cat. Half the crew would probably have a collective meltdown.

Grant wasn’t the only one. The others were also shaking their heads wildly.

Anson couldn’t help but smile at the scene.

He really meant it, though.

In his past life, he had worked on film sets for a long time. If an actor was in the way, it could be quite annoying, and during breaks, crew members would inevitably gather to gossip or vent.

For the crew, it was best when actors just focused on their performance and stayed in the dressing room, out of the way. That made things run smoothly.

Now, it seemed Anson had become the unwelcome distraction.

Anson realized that he hadn’t fully thought this through.

Yes, he was genuinely worried about getting lost and being late—that part was true. But there was another reason. He had specifically taken the train to Long Island, declining Noah’s offer to drive him directly to the set.

In the movie, Joel and Clementine commuted between Manhattan and Long Island by train, making the train an important backdrop.

This whole project had been full of surprises, and Anson hadn’t had much time to prepare before diving into the production. He figured he could use today’s opportunity to experience a bit of Joel’s daily life.

First, he wanted to feel what it was like to commute as a regular worker.

Second, he hoped to observe the atmosphere of a daily train commute and the mood of the passengers.

But now, it seemed he had considered one side and completely overlooked the other.

Anson chuckled to himself.

Looking at the anxious faces in front of him, Anson swallowed the rest of his explanation. Whether he stayed silent and tried to blend in or left to give the crew more space, the solution was simple.

In just a little while, the director or the other actors would arrive, or more crew members would show up, and the atmosphere would naturally ease up.

But for now?

Anson motioned toward the door. "I’ll just step outside for a smoke."

He didn’t wait for Grant or the others to respond. Grabbing his windproof down jacket, he walked straight out of the apartment. From behind, he could clearly hear everyone letting out a collective sigh of relief as they bustled around, their tension finally breaking.

Heh.

Anson let out a small, helpless laugh.

So this was what they meant by the "superstar aura."

Once your fame and status in the industry reach a certain level, a distance begins to form. A silent, invisible atmosphere pushes others away, whether you intend it or not.

It’s lonely at the top.

He had heard about this before, but he hadn’t expected it to happen to him so soon.

As he pushed open the door to the first floor, a gust of cold wind, mixed with moisture, hit him in the face. The biting chill seeped into his bones, causing him to instinctively curl up. Reflexively, he glanced back, longing for the warmth of the apartment.

His steps faltered briefly, but he eventually moved forward, stepping into the light drizzle.

In the original owner's memory, this was just a typical day in New York.

New York was windy, and even on rainy days, people didn’t often use umbrellas.

It wasn’t that they didn’t want to or were trying to look cool. The wind could easily flip an umbrella inside out, leaving you soaked anyway. Plus, carrying an umbrella could increase wind resistance, leading to unnecessary danger.

So unless it was a heavy downpour, people usually just walked straight through the rain.

At times like this, a windproof, waterproof jacket became essential.

Since arriving here, Anson had been living in Los Angeles, and he had almost forgotten what this kind of day felt like. It was nice to get back into the rhythm of things before filming began.

Smoke?

No, no. What he needed now wasn’t a cigarette break, but a piping hot cup of cocoa.

He remembered seeing a few cafés when he came from the station.

Pulling his hood up and hunching his shoulders, Anson headed toward the station through the misty rain, just like Joel from Long Island.

*Chapter 788: One in a Million*

The steaming hot cocoa slid down his throat, and the tight knot in his stomach gradually unwound. His tense muscles began to relax, and a slight tingling sensation spread from his fingertips, not unpleasant, but like tiny pins and needles. A deep breath followed by a sigh of relief left his lips.

His whole body felt at ease.

Anson didn’t choose to sit in the café. Instead, he carried his hot cocoa and walked to the station, sitting quietly on the platform, observing the bustling crowd before him.

Because of the cold and the early workday, the faces in the crowd were completely expressionless, devoid of even a hint of a smile. They stood in a numb and lifeless state, waiting for the train, their gazes unfocused, lost in their own little worlds, entirely indifferent to their surroundings.

Like zombies.

Naturally, no one noticed the man sitting quietly in the corner with his hot cocoa and thick beard—none other than Anson Wood, the man currently turning Hollywood upside down.

But even if someone did recognize him, what difference would it make?

These commuters had neither the time nor the energy to cheer for a Hollywood star. After a fleeting moment of excitement, they would still need to return to work.

Drained of life.

Slowly, a train arrived. The grey-faced zombies clumsily swarmed aboard, found their seats, and immediately closed their eyes. Despite the large crowd, the train was eerily quiet, filled with a deathly stillness.

Clunk, clunk.

As the train left, the platform grew silent, like a graveyard.

It wasn’t until another train approached from the opposite platform that the noise returned, though it was still cold and cheerless. Almost no one got off, like a ghost train that came and went without leaving a trace.

But this time, something was different.

A figure appeared on the platform, dressed in bright, eye-catching clothes—layers upon layers of a T-shirt, a shirt, a sweater, and a jacket, so chaotic and confusing that it was hard to know where to focus. Despite wearing so many clothes, the person seemed unable to spark any real interest, so in the end, Anson's gaze settled on the person’s hair—like seaweed tangled in a mess of strange colors.

What... strange color was that?

It was as if a dye had been spilled by accident, mixing colors that stained the hair. The roots remained blonde, though dulled and lifeless. The entire head of hair resembled wet, withered straw, devoid of vitality, possibly even making someone with trypophobia break out in goosebumps.

However.

In this messy, directionless outfit, there was an undeniable vibrancy and energy. Among the sea of grey, this figure stood out like the only burst of color in a world of zombies.

Instantly, she caught his eye.

It was a “she.” She held a cigarette casually between her fingers, lazily exhaling smoke, her attitude one of complete nonchalance. As the smoke dispersed into the chilly air, it revealed a face that wasn’t particularly delicate—perhaps even a bit rough—but there was a certain defiant beauty, like a rare orchid.

Kate Winslet.

This was unexpected.

It seemed Kate had the same idea as Anson, ditching her assistant and manager to experience New York life the way New Yorkers do.

And then, they bumped into each other by chance on the platform.

Just like Anson, the commuters on the opposite side were also like zombies, indifferent and grey. Even with Kate dressed so brightly, she failed to draw the attention of the crowd. No one seemed to realize that the star of Titanic, Rose, was standing right there in front of them.

Perhaps Anson was the only exception.

In his mind, Kate had never been the type of super beauty who stunned at first glance, especially with her slightly chubby face. In the beauty-saturated world of Hollywood, she didn’t stand out as much.

But seeing her in person revealed just how misguided that thought was.

Physical beauty, the delicate features, and the perfect figure—that’s the definition of a traditional Barbie doll. While these traits are certainly pleasing to the eye, they don’t leave much of an impression.

It’s the presence that matters.

As the saying goes, “Good looks are common, but a captivating soul is one in a million.”

Beyond her appearance, what truly drew attention was the unique aura that radiated from within—her elegance and magnetism in every gesture and glance. It wasn’t an overwhelming force but a gentle ripple that lingered, impossible to forget.

Kate was just that.

She was nothing like her movie persona, her magazine photos, or the stories people told. Here, she stood like a desert rose, proud and sharp amidst the desolate landscape.

One glance wasn’t enough—you had to look again.

Unintentionally, their gazes met.

Kate’s hand paused mid-movement as she was about to take a drag from her cigarette. She hadn’t expected to run into Anson here. Narrowing her eyes, she studied him closely—

Apparently, she was nearsighted.

Anson didn’t look away. He raised his hot cocoa in acknowledgment.

Kate hesitated for a moment, then snapped out of it and raised her cigarette in return.

And then… nothing.

Kate stood there for a few moments before turning to leave the platform, probably heading to her apartment.

Anson wondered if he had been impolite. Should he have approached her to say hello and close the distance between them? After all, they were about to work together.

But running into each other outside of the film set—how do you even start that conversation? And since they weren’t heading back to the set yet, they might have to stay outside for a while longer. Wouldn’t that make things awkward?

As his thoughts churned, Anson finally stood up, ready to greet her. But just as he turned, he saw a slightly out-of-breath Kate—

Did she run back?

They stood on the same platform, gazing at each other from a distance.

Kate raised her right hand and gestured behind her, realizing she was still holding her lit cigarette. She quickly put it out in a nearby trash can and explained.

“I figured since we bumped into each other, it’s best to say hello.”

Her smile was a bit stiff, carrying a hint of awkwardness.

Anson, now feeling a bit awkward himself, replied, "Oh, I was thinking the same, but you beat me to it."

Kate shrugged lightly. “Looks like my running practice is paying off.”

The conversation stopped there. It didn’t naturally continue.

Sensing the awkwardness, Anson tried to ease it by saying, "I didn’t know it was a race; otherwise, I would have trained in advance, ha."

It was meant to be a joke.

But Kate didn’t laugh. She just forced a slight smile and scratched her head as if unsure how to respond, making the situation even more uncomfortable.

Anson was surprised—

From media interviews and award shows, Kate always came across as confident and straightforward. She wasn’t the type to crack jokes constantly, but she certainly didn’t seem shy or reserved.

So what was going on today?

And given her long-standing fame from Titanic, Kate should have been used to these impromptu encounters between actors in Hollywood. There was no reason to be nervous meeting someone like Anson, a rising star.

This was definitely out of character.

Could it be… that Kate was already starting to immerse herself in the role of Clementine?

Chapter 789: Keeping Distance

The air quickly cooled down—it was unexpected.

To be honest, Anson felt a bit nervous about working with Kate Winslet.

Even though the film market was becoming more prosperous, and box office records were constantly being broken by films like The Avengers, Avatar, and Star Wars, Titanic always held a special place in Anson’s memory from his previous life.

Even when the film was re-released or remade into a 3D version, it continued to stir deep emotions among people of his generation.

Because of this, Leonardo DiCaprio and Kate Winslet maintained a special status in the hearts of movie lovers. Anson was no exception.

When discussing the project with Michelle and Charlie earlier, Anson had been calm, despite some minor excitement, knowing that Kate starred in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind in his past life. Analyzing the project rationally, he remained composed, treating it like a mere theoretical discussion.

However, when Kate Winslet stood before him—not as Rose, but as Clementine—a complex mix of excitement, nervousness, curiosity, and joy filled him.

Now, after a small joke failed to land, the atmosphere grew awkward, and even Anson found himself becoming unusually stiff.

But Anson was still Anson. After all the life lessons from his previous existence, he managed to quickly regain his composure and rein in his runaway emotions.

"Wood." Anson introduced himself first.

"Anson Wood, playing the role of Joel in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind."

This was the right move.

Kate gave a faint smile. "Sorry, my brain isn’t working right."

"Kate. Just Kate."

Her tone was serious, almost formal. Anson wasn’t sure if the latter part of her comment was a joke, and the forced smile on Kate’s face made the situation even more awkward.

Then, silence. Both turned their eyes elsewhere, avoiding each other.

Sensing the growing tension, Anson stepped in quickly.

"Kate, do you have any concerns about me playing Joel? If you do, the film hasn’t started shooting yet, so there’s still time to make changes."

Kate was startled. "What?"

After blinking a few times, she quickly waved her hands.

"No, no, no, no, no, you misunderstood."

"I just... uh, I didn’t know how to greet you. You look... um..."

"Oh, sorry."

It seemed she had stopped herself from saying something inappropriate. Kate quickly shifted gears.

"God, you’re very handsome. No doubt about that. I love your sweater, it’s great. I wasn’t expecting... uh, the beard. Are you trying to look more mature?"

Her words were all over the place, but Anson finally understood—they were both surprised by each other’s appearance.

Anson stroked his chin. "No, don’t get the wrong idea. It’s for the script."

"Remember? Joel and Clementine break up, Joel falls into depression, and he doesn’t bother shaving. He looks scruffy—it’s all part of the story."

Kate: …

After a pause, she widened her eyes at Anson.

"So, you’re also getting into character?"

Anson nodded. "Just like you."

Kate glanced down at her own outfit.

"I’m still trying to figure it out. I want to find something personal, not just follow the stylist's instructions. I hope to connect with the character."

"But."

"I’m still exploring. I’m not sure. Maybe I need to tweak it some more."

Kate then took another look at Anson’s outfit.

Anson waved his hand.

"No, this is just my personal style. Joel is more of a rule-follower. I’ll stick to the stylist’s advice. If they tell me to wear shorts, I’ll wear shorts."

"Ha ha." Finally, a joke that landed. Kate laughed heartily.

But the laughter was short-lived, and soon the room grew quiet again.

Anson was genuinely surprised—Kate was more introverted than he had imagined. He wasn’t sure where his original impression came from, but he had always thought of her as being more outgoing, just like her character Clementine. Yet, the Kate in front of him seemed hesitant and reserved.

Perhaps, Anson thought, Kate was deep in thought, studying the role and trying to channel Clementine’s more sensitive and slightly neurotic side.

If Anson’s guess was correct, he shouldn’t interfere. As an actor himself, he knew the importance of getting into character without distractions.

As Anson pondered whether to excuse himself, Kate unexpectedly broke the silence.

"What about you? Why are you here? From the location of the station, it looks like you arrived on Long Island before me."

Anson pointed to his hot cocoa.

"I’m observing life in Long Island. I thought it would be more gray in the winter than I expected."

"Gray?"

"Yes, gray. Everything is covered in this foggy, grayish layer—people, lives, even emotions. It’s grayer than Manhattan."

Once again, no response from Kate.

This conversation was exhausting, with gaps that Anson struggled to bridge.

Kate fell into thought, letting the cold air freeze the room once more, cutting off any attempt at warmth.

Anson was starting to worry about their on-screen chemistry.

Should he be concerned?

Then, without warning, Kate looked up and stared straight at him, catching Anson off guard.

"Do you understand what’s going on with the script?"

"I mean, do you have the complete script?"

The script was still a work in progress.

Charlie Kaufman hadn’t finished the final third, but they couldn’t wait for him forever. With the seasons changing, they had to start production while waiting for Charlie to wrap things up.

It was a new experience for Anson.

But he was surprised that it also troubled Kate.

"No, I don’t have it either. Charlie is still in seclusion, refusing to let anyone read the last third of the script."

Kate stomped her foot and cursed, "Damn it."

Anson chuckled.

"My experience is limited. I haven’t been in this situation before, but I thought you would’ve dealt with something like this."

Kate shrugged.

"Of course I have. And not just once. Trust me, this happens a lot in Hollywood."

"TV is even worse. Sometimes, the script is still hot off the printer the morning you’re supposed to film."

"But this is different."

"Charlie’s script... well, I’ll admit, I don’t fully understand it. I can’t figure out the timeline or the story structure. I can’t find a coherent character."

"I need a complete script."

*Chapter 790: Scattered Clues*

In his previous life, Anson remembered reading an article where the crew reminisced about Kate’s work ethic.

The article mentioned that Kate knew she wasn’t an exceptionally gifted actor. She believed that hard work could make up for any shortcomings. Before diving into any project, she would completely immerse herself in character research—studying the script, the character, and the dialogues. She’d outline the character’s traits, backstory, and performance framework, then process it in her own way.

In the end, she would imprint her own signature on the role.

Maybe Kate didn’t go to the extreme like Daniel Day-Lewis, living as the character for six months and losing herself in the role. She still retained her disciplined British academic approach to research. But there was no doubt that her passion for acting came from a different angle.

When joining a production, she knew exactly what she was doing and how she would approach it.

For an actor, that’s a rare quality.

Especially after experiencing the success of Titanic, Kate still managed to stay grounded and focus on her craft, which was even more commendable.

Kate had her own unique way of acting.

For an ordinary script, it wouldn’t matter much if it were incomplete since the storylines, character setups, and so on were already laid out. The impact wouldn’t be too obvious.

But this was a Charlie Kaufman script—the writer of Being John Malkovich and Adaptation. Even when you held the script in your hands and read it repeatedly, it was still hard to grasp. Reading it three or five times might not be enough; it required even deeper study and understanding. And this one wasn’t even complete!

Holding an incomplete script was like holding junk—a chaotic mess of timelines and storylines, leaving one completely lost.

At this point, Anson realized this was a problem.

He knew Charlie Kaufman hadn’t finished the script, so the movie had to start shooting with an unfinished draft. But since he had memories from his previous life, he knew the complete blueprint of the movie, as well as the development of the characters and story. This didn’t affect his interpretation and portrayal of the character.

However, Kate didn’t have that advantage.

Moreover, Kate’s preparation process for a role was different, which meant she was naturally facing more gaps and unanswered questions.

No wonder!

No wonder Kate had been so absorbed in her thoughts, with no energy for socializing. Her brain, overwhelmed by the blanks and confusion, couldn’t function normally, which explained her unusual behavior.

After a moment of nervousness and anxiety, Anson regained his calm.

This, in fact, gave him peace of mind.

Anson then shifted back to his professional stance as an actor. “So, you didn’t understand the script?”

Instinctively, Kate tensed up, thinking Anson was about to mock her. But after a brief pause, she looked up at him, and in his eyes, she saw only sincerity and honesty—completely different from what she had expected.

Taking a deep breath, Kate nodded and admitted, “Yes, I didn’t fully understand it.”

“I mean, is this our first meeting or our second?”

Anson blinked. “Ours? The first.”

“Haha, very funny,” Kate replied, expressionless, giving a dry laugh. “You know what I mean—Joel and Clementine.”

After a pause, Kate waved her hand. “Sorry. I must look crazy and unreasonable right now. First meeting, no formal greetings, and here I am, freaking out at a train station. God, even I can’t stand myself. Maybe we should forget about work for now.”

Anson put his hands behind his back and leaned forward slightly. “Are you sure?”

Kate bit her lower lip lightly. At that moment, she saw the playful glint in Anson’s eyes. She thought about it for a moment, then lifted her chin, ready to counter. “How do I know you have the answer?”

“Hey, you’re just a boy. Your acting experience is limited. Maybe you don’t understand the script and the character as much as I do.”

Anson didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he paused thoughtfully. “Then why are you still here? Why are we still discussing this? Maybe you should ask the director or directly consult the screenwriter instead of using reverse psychology on me.”

“I didn’t know you read The Art of War.”

Kate tilted her head slightly. “I should be surprised that you know The Art of War.”

“Haha, touche,” Anson laughed heartily.

A smile finally appeared on Kate’s face. “I heard.”

Anson: “?”

Kate: “That you insisted I get this role.”

Anson waved his hand. “There’s been a misunderstanding. I’m not in a position to get roles for you. You’re Kate Winslet.”

Kate shrugged slightly. “I know. Even though I’m Kate Winslet, I still couldn’t secure the role. In terms of box office, Titanic was James Cameron and Leonardo DiCaprio’s success. As for acting, I’m probably considered part of the ‘idol’ category by now.”

“I am Kate Winslet, but I’m in an awkward position—neither here nor there. It feels like I have some status, but really, I have nothing.”

“That’s why I appreciate your support in getting me this role. I’m very, very, very grateful.”

Kate was smart. She always had been, and she always would be.

In Hollywood, a place that devours you, Kate may have never been at the pinnacle or part of the $20-million club, but she was always indispensable. Even twenty years later, she would still have her place in Hollywood.

Noticing that Anson was about to speak, Kate stopped him with a look.

“Back to the point. Since you helped secure the role for me, it means you’re just as excited about this collaboration. So, I believe you wouldn’t come unprepared.”

Everyone said Anson was just a pretty face, but Kate didn’t think so. Just like with Leonardo, people’s biases were often clouded by appearance, blinding them to the soul underneath.

From an outsider’s perspective, Kate was already a big star, and Anson was just an up-and-comer. They seemed to be on completely different levels. But Kate didn’t see it that way.

What does experience, seniority, or age matter? In Hollywood, those who cling to outdated ideas are the fools who eventually get left behind.

That’s why, working with Anson, Kate had no airs and never looked down on him.

In fact, it was the opposite. Kate was secretly excited—

Who doesn’t like a good-looking man?

Hollywood lets men appreciate young, beautiful actresses—why can’t women admire a handsome young actor?

And Anson didn’t disappoint.

At their first meeting, their first exchange, Kate was already impressed by him. Plus, he was easy on the eyes.

Kate raised her chin slightly and studied Anson carefully. “So, do you have the answer? Did you understand the script? Or did Charlie discuss the full concept with you?”