776-780

*Chapter 776: Pride and Prejudice*

Indeed, pride and prejudice apply to different situations and settings, remaining fresh no matter how many times you revisit them. Humans are always prone to blindfolding themselves without even realizing it.

It wasn't until now that Michelle finally understood.

There was some awkwardness, a bit of unease.

But at least, it wasn’t too late.

Michelle paused for a moment, letting his thoughts return to the project. Compared to his personal frustrations, he was more concerned about the future of the project. Looking at Anson in front of him, Michelle finally grew curious—he wanted to explore Anson's thoughts.

“So, what about Joel?”

The words slipped out.

Charlie: ???

Sir, this isn’t the time to discuss scripts or characters! Who knows if Focus Features has already reached out to Nicole Kidman’s agent while they’re “chatting?”

But the words were already out, and Charlie held back his response—did this mean that Michelle was finally willing to give Anson a chance?

Without meaning to, Charlie also looked at Anson, quietly holding some expectations.

Anson didn’t respond immediately but instead thought carefully.

In a previous life, what was Jim Carrey’s performance like in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind?

To Anson, it had similarities to The Truman Show. Jim Carrey tapped into a unique quality between comedy and tragedy. His portrayal of Joel was dull, stiff, conservative, and slightly neurotic, loving Clementine in his own way.

Even though Jim Carrey had restrained himself to the utmost, he still couldn’t completely rid himself of his comedic instincts—it had been his trademark for over a decade. There were traces of it, and it was clear how director Michel Gondry worked with Carrey to balance this neurosis. This created a subtle harmony between Joel and The Truman Show.

This trait was the key to Jim Carrey’s success, yet at times it also became the shackles that limited his breakthroughs.

Luckily, in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, this neurosis sparked chemistry with Clementine, becoming an extra asset.

Without a doubt, Jim Carrey did an outstanding job.

So, what was Anson’s advantage?

Or, to put it another way, what would Anson’s portrayal of Joel be like?

One thing was certain: when it came to comedic talent, Anson couldn’t compare to Jim Carrey. His interpretation of the character would naturally be different.

“From a psychological perspective, love can be divided into two types.”

“One type is finding someone similar to yourself, whether it’s personality, appearance, interests, or values—someone in the same category.”

“The other type is seeking someone different—someone completely opposite to you.”

“Some people tend to fall in love with those similar to them, falling for the same type of person over and over again. Others fall for someone different every time, but the emotional connection remains.”

“The former seeks a sense of safety and recognition, where resonance is key.”

“The latter seeks novelty and adventure, where experience is key.”

“In my understanding, Joel and Clementine fall into the latter category. They search for the missing parts of themselves in each other. Only by embracing each other can they complete the puzzle.”

After a small pause, Anson’s words left Charlie and Michelle a bit perplexed. But as he continued, their vision opened up, as if a door to a new world had been unlocked.

In Jim Carrey’s version of Joel, Anson believed that Joel and Clementine were essentially the same type of person. Though their expressions were different, both lacked a sense of security and desperately tried to draw warmth from each other. When they hit a wall, Clementine decisively chose to erase her memory, and Joel, in retaliation, did the same.

The inherent neurosis in Jim Carrey’s performance subtly echoed Kate Winslet’s portrayal of Clementine’s neurosis.

However.

Is that really who Joel is?

Anson didn’t think so.

From Charlie Kaufman’s script, Joel and Clementine should be two completely different personalities—polar opposites. Their worlds should never have intersected, yet they fell in love, like the ocean meeting fire.

Clementine sought security in Joel, while Joel sought adventure in Clementine.

This was the foundation and core. Building the characters and plot from this would lead to a completely different dynamic. The story might still follow the same beats, but the motivations, emotions, and states would change, transforming the characters’ chemistry and the texture of the story.

“Joel, at his core, is insecure.”

“Because he’s so afraid of the world and terrified of the unknown, he chooses to hide in his shell, living a quiet and obedient life. It’s not until he meets Clementine that his deep desire for adventure awakens.”

“Their arguments, clashes, and conflicts all stem from their differing personalities.”

“When Clementine realizes that Joel is also insecure and she can’t find the security she seeks in him, she decisively chooses to leave.”

“At that moment, Joel realizes that in trying to step out of his comfort zone, he’s still stuck inside it, which ultimately causes him to lose Clementine. He chooses to erase his memory, just like her. On the surface, this decision seems like a retreat back into his shell, refusing to take risks. But in reality, it’s his first real act of adventure—he’s becoming more like Clementine, though he doesn’t realize it.”

Michelle took a sharp breath.

This was something he hadn’t thought of himself.

Anson’s analysis and interpretation of the character went far beyond Michelle’s imagination.

But Anson didn’t stop. He didn’t bask in Michelle’s surprise or Charlie’s contemplation. He remained fully immersed in his own thoughts.

“So, when the memories begin to collapse, Joel realizes from those recollections that Clementine had already unknowingly changed him. Those conflicts, those clashes, were precisely the key to his growth. He shouldn’t forget those memories—he should hold onto those scars.”

“So Joel tries desperately to salvage his memories.”

“Like Icarus.”

Michelle was completely absorbed in Anson’s words, unconsciously murmuring, “Embracing the sun?”

In Greek mythology, Icarus was the fool who flew towards the sun with wings made of wax, only to have them melt and plunge into the sea.

Flying too close to the fire is seen as foolish by most. But behind that foolishness is a purity and simplicity, a kind of innate strength.

Love is much the same.

Knowing that the ocean and fire are incompatible, yet still rushing to embrace each other, burning one’s soul to feel the warmth of emotion.

This, indeed, was the core of Michel Gondry’s original inspiration for the film—a fact he himself had long forgotten.

*Chapter 777: Sincere Attitude*

Love is irrational and domineering.

Sometimes, even when you’re fully aware of the other person’s many flaws and imperfections, you find yourself unable to turn away because of a single heart-stirring moment.

Sometimes, even when you know you have nothing in common, you're still hopelessly drawn into love because of the pull of hormones.

We all understand the logic behind it and can explain things clearly when we're on the outside looking in. But when we’re in it, we can’t escape. Reason always crumbles in the face of emotion, and we repeatedly lose to our own impulses and vulnerabilities.

Frustration, bitterness, sadness, and pain. Yet when love happens again, we still leap in without hesitation, like moths to a flame.

Some call it foolish, the Achilles’ heel of humanity. But others say it’s genuine, the very proof that makes us human—

A reminder that we are different from machines, not just cold, calculating numbers.

Because of this, memories, like emotions, hold power.

“So.”

“He is anxious, conservative, honest, steady, and stubborn, yet always gazes at Clementine with passion and sincerity because she possesses all the beautiful qualities he longs for but can never attain.”

“He longs to have her but knows he can never confine such a free soul. If he did, she would no longer be herself.”

“He wishes to be like her but knows he’ll never have the courage to take that step. All he can do is stand quietly, watching her dance through life.”

“When she leaves, the only thing he can do is retreat to his safe space with memories in tow, spending a lifetime reminiscing. He is cowardly and timid, but in this relationship, he gives everything without holding back.”

“And the one time he takes a risk is when he visits the clinic to erase his memories, making a decision he might regret forever. And so, in desperation, he tries to turn things around.”

Outside, the afternoon wind howled fiercely as dark clouds gathered, making it feel as though the end of the world was approaching.

Inside, there was stillness. The record player had long stopped, and after Anson finished speaking, the air fell completely silent.

The contrast was stark, intensifying the turbulent emotions in the room as if you could hear thoughts flowing through the air, hearts pounding, blood racing, and chests on the verge of exploding.

Michelle was completely stunned—

It was as if someone had pressed pause on her, staring at Anson in front of her.

Her mind whirred like a robot, looking back and forth between Anson and Charlie. She saw Charlie with his arms crossed, curled up on the couch, his expression unreadable, lost deep in thought.

They had no idea what Charlie had experienced to write such a script. Outwardly, everything seemed fine, but internally, it was as if his world had crumbled.

Anson’s words seemed to have stirred Charlie’s memories once again.

Michelle received no response, so she turned back to Anson.

“…Sorry.”

Her brain was still muddled, unable to think clearly. She only had one thought, and so she blurted it out.

An apology.

Anson was taken aback, then couldn’t help but flash a faint smile. “I’m not sure why, but I’ll accept your apology anyway?”

Michelle smiled too, a beat slower, only then realizing she hadn’t explained the whole situation. Did Anson really not know, or was he pretending not to?

Should she explain to him, or just brush it off?

After a brief pause, Michelle chose honesty.

“I personally wanted Jim Carrey for this role. I’ve always liked his performances, especially in The Truman Show. Even though it’s a comedy, you can feel the bitterness beneath it. I was hoping he could bring that texture to my film.”

“So, even though Charlie kept recommending you, believing you could bring something special to the movie, I refused to listen. Even today, when we came to visit, I wasn’t exactly thrilled.”

Michelle looked to Charlie, hoping he would confirm her story. Instead, Charlie looked shocked, rubbing his forehead in disbelief.

Charlie: …How is she going to fix this after spilling everything?

In Hollywood, no one likes being a second choice. Actors who live in the spotlight and thrive on applause are notoriously self-centered.

Even if the actor you’re negotiating with is the eighteenth choice on your list, you’re supposed to say they’re your first pick.

That’s called a white lie—keeps everyone happy.

Michelle, however, was brutally honest, laying out the whole truth.

Charlie was dumbfounded, unable to react for a moment.

Michelle, seemingly unaware of this, looked back at Anson.

“But now, I realize how foolish I was.”

“So, I’m sorry.”

Not only Charlie, but Anson was also surprised.

Now, Anson finally understood why Michelle’s directorial career in Hollywood never took off after Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

There was no doubt that Michelle’s sincerity and passion reflected a pure heart. She was genuine and honest, which earned her many friends. That’s why she could always assemble impressive production teams, and why Charlie Kaufman was willing to rewrite her scripts—

As a friend, Michelle was undoubtedly a great partner.

But in business, her blunt honesty was a double-edged sword. It could offend both the studios signing the checks and actors with egos too fragile for even the slightest bruise. One wrong step, and she’d burn bridges without even realizing it.

In the early stages of her career, Michelle’s films had impressive casts. But it didn’t last long before she hit obstacles—funding issues, collaboration troubles.

By the time Anson knew her future, Michelle’s career had only ever seen the spotlight once, with Eternal Sunshine. Even twenty years later, she was still living off the success of that film.

Of course, her difficulties in human interactions were one thing. Her abilities as a director were another matter entirely. Maybe she had some talent, but she certainly wasn’t a genius like Charlie.

As a side note, Charlie later directed Synecdoche, New York himself because he believed no other director could bring the story in his mind to life. That’s why he took matters into his own hands.

This situation was no different.

But Anson appreciated Michelle’s honesty. He could feel her genuine heart and sincerity, qualities that had nearly vanished in Hollywood. To Anson, it was refreshing. “It’s okay. At least you’re sitting here now.”

“Even if it’s a little late, you still made it.”

“So, does this mean you’ve changed your mind?”

Anson wasn’t about to let an opportunity slip. Grabbing the chance, he pushed forward, trying to secure the role for himself.

Michelle didn’t hesitate. “Of course!”

*Chapter 778: Verbal Agreement*

"Of course."

Michelle’s response was quick and decisive, without a hint of hesitation. It was so straightforward that both Charlie and Anson were left stunned.

Michelle glanced at Anson, then at Charlie, feeling a bit awkward.

“What is it?”

She retorted defensively, though as soon as she spoke, she felt guilty.

“I’m just trying to be honest.”

“I like Jim Carrey because I believe his performance brings a unique quality to the film. He’s always been one of my favorite actors, and working with him feels like a dream.”

“But now…”

“I realize my view was one-sided. As Anson said, we should start with the character and find the actor who best fits the role.”

“For example, Anson.”

“Anson’s understanding of the script and character is on a different level. It’s not just about acting; he’s also a valuable asset to the director.”

“I have so many ideas right now, but I can’t seem to organize them clearly. However, I think it’s time for me to go watch Catch Me If You Can. My impression of Anson is still stuck on Spider-Man, and I’m not sure what I’ve missed.”

“But Steven Spielberg must have seen something I didn’t. Turns out, I’m more arrogant than I thought.”

“Phew… I hope it’s not too late to correct my mistake.”

“So…”

She paused, shrugged slightly, still feeling a bit guilty and embarrassed, but expressing her thoughts honestly made her feel a little more at ease.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

“Why not give Anson a chance? And also give myself a chance.”

Michelle looked at Anson, slightly anxious.

Charlie also looked at Anson, waiting for a response.

Just as Anson was about to speak, Michelle suddenly remembered something else.

“Wait.”

“For the role of Clementine, would you help us convince Focus Features to cast Kate?”

Charlie sighed and looked up at the sky. “Michelle, Anson was about to agree, but now that you’ve added a condition, things might get tricky. Can’t you just keep quiet for a moment?”

Michelle obediently closed her mouth—for a second.

Then, she couldn’t hold back.

“But that’s why we came to Anson in the first place, isn’t it?”

Charlie rubbed his forehead.

Anson lifted his chin slightly. “Ah, I see. So, I’m just a tool, an added bonus if Kate Winslet joins the cast, right?”

This time, Michelle caught onto the teasing tone in Anson’s voice, but she still fumbled for words, unable to respond.

Charlie noticed and glanced at Michelle. “Maybe you should stay quiet.”

Michelle crossed her arms, clearly showing her dissatisfaction on her face:

“I’m not happy.”

But this time, she didn’t say anything more.

The scene made Anson smile, unable to hold back anymore.

Of course, there were still many details to discuss, and the situation remained complicated. But without a doubt, Anson was willing to take on the challenge.

“No problem.”

Charlie was stunned.

Michelle was stunned too.

Charlie looked at Anson. “Dude, are you awake?”

Michelle quickly sat up and glared at Charlie, slowly forcing each syllable through clenched teeth, “Charlie. Kaufman.”

Anson burst into hearty laughter. “Don’t worry, this is just a verbal agreement. Before we sign anything on paper, you have a chance to back out, and so do I.”

Michelle: Uh…

So, was this a good thing or a bad thing?

The situation had quietly shifted, with Anson now holding the upper hand. Michelle, on the other hand, hesitated whether to have Anson sign the contract right away to ensure they wouldn’t lose him.

Jim Carrey?

Michelle hadn’t forgotten. His mind still lingered on the thought, but the fear of losing Anson made him want to hold on—

Is this the mindset women have when faced with a sale?

Not buying would feel like a loss?

Why does this feel so strange?

It was obvious Michelle’s mind was torn, and Charlie couldn’t help but roll his eyes, which Anson caught, though Charlie didn’t seem to care. He shrugged helplessly, as if he was just as frustrated with Michelle’s indecision.

Anson thought Michelle was an interesting character, and Charlie too.

Anson looked at Charlie. “So, have you found the answer to your dream?”

The mention of this wiped the relaxed expression from Charlie’s face. “It’s endless.”

Anson was taken aback.

Charlie repeated, “Endless!”

Anson couldn’t help but laugh.

Charlie grabbed his head in frustration. “That dream keeps haunting me, over and over. Trust me, I’ve tried everything, but it still shows up every night, right on time. I’m exhausted and about to give up.”

Anson smirked. “I don’t see it.”

Charlie glanced over.

Anson said, “You’re still fighting. The dark circles under your eyes give you away.”

Charlie responded sarcastically, “Ha. Ha. Anson Wood, we all know you’re funny, but this isn’t the time for jokes. That wasn’t funny.”

Anson replied, “Charlie, I’m serious. Look, you’re still thinking, still trying to find the answer, just like in Adaptation.”

Charlie let out a long sigh. “Don’t remind me. I’ve had no inspiration for ages. If you decide to back out of this script, I wouldn’t blame you.”

Anson was a bit surprised but, after thinking about it, realized it wasn’t all that surprising—

Adaptation was about a screenwriter struggling with creative anxiety, and the script for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind hadn’t been finished. At one point, Charlie even tried to quit the project.

Maybe the pressure was there all along, but Charlie either didn’t notice or refused to admit it, so his subconscious was protesting.

Anson shared his thoughts, and Charlie was stunned. “What do you mean?”

Anson explained, “Creative anxiety. You’re probably worried your creativity has hit a wall, especially with all the awards season PR events. On the one hand, they pull you out of your comfort zone into constant socializing, and on the other, they disrupt your creative rhythm.”

“So, your subconscious is sending signals, throwing you an unsolvable problem, asking you to get back to the script and ignore the awards season. Just focus on what you do best.”

“Remember what I just said?”

“You’ve never cared about pleasing the Academy.”

Charlie gasped, his thoughts suddenly clear, looking at Anson in surprise. He was both shocked and amazed.

Anson shrugged slightly. “Hey, Charlie, how about getting back to your typewriter and finishing the script? Now’s not the time to be playing around.”

Charlie nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, that’s it. That must be it. My brain is protesting, my subconscious is warning me. I need to let go of all those burdens and pressures and finish the work at my own pace. Forget dieting, forget PR, they can all get lost.”

When Charlie finished, he noticed the shocked and confused expression on Michelle’s face. Clearly, she had no idea what Charlie had been going through.

Charlie didn’t know how to explain it either.

Then.

Anson leaned forward slightly, breaking the tension and bringing their attention back. “So, do you need me to help convince Focus Features?”

*Chapter 779: Academy Invitation*

"Mm…"

On the other end of the phone, Edgar listened intently to Anson’s explanation of the situation. After a brief pause, he dragged out his response, momentarily lost in thought.

Anson didn’t interrupt Edgar. He sat cross-legged on the floor, casually selecting vinyl records, searching for the right music to set the mood for dinner. He was particularly relaxed.

After a short while, Edgar snapped out of his thoughts and noticed the silence on the other end of the line, prompting him to speak up.

"Anson?"

"Still here. So, what do you think? Any problems?"

"No, no problems. Just a bit surprised. After everything, it still landed in our laps. I also feel a bit defeated since I wasn’t much help."

"Haha, Captain, don’t feel down. I’m sure you’ll have your time to shine."

Edgar could hear the teasing in Anson’s tone, a chuckle bubbling deep in his throat. "So, you agree that Kate is the better fit?"

"Yes," Anson responded without hesitation.

"Alright, I’ll handle it and talk to Focus Features."

"If they need to speak with me, just schedule a time. I’m heading to a gallery with my mom tomorrow morning, but I’m free in the afternoon and evening."

"Anson, you’ve already put so much effort into this project. You don’t need to worry anymore. Leave the rest to me. Consider it a done deal. I’ll make sure Focus Features understands our sincerity, and in return, they’ll show theirs."

First Charlie Kaufman, then Michel Gondry—this project had consumed a lot of Anson’s energy, even more than their last one, "The Butterfly Effect." Given their current position, Edgar felt it was his turn as Anson’s agent to step up.

Even over the phone, Anson could sense Edgar’s enthusiasm and drive.

So, he didn’t say much more, simply replying, "I’ll await the good news then."

Edgar, full of energy, was already sharpening his strategy in his office when he suddenly remembered something. "Oh, by the way, we got an invitation from the Academy."

"The Academy? What academy?"

Anson’s response was so casual that Edgar was momentarily thrown off, then quickly realized his reaction was normal. "The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences."

"Oh, what kind of invitation?"

In North America, the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences is undoubtedly the pinnacle of the film industry. Its authority and prestige are unparalleled. With over six thousand industry professionals as members, the Academy forms the very core of the industry.

Naturally, the Oscars, voted on by these six thousand professionals, hold a special place in the world of film.

The nickname "Oscar" actually refers to the golden statuette, but the ceremony’s official name is the "Academy Awards," highlighting its professional stature.

Five years ago, when Shakespeare in Love unexpectedly beat Saving Private Ryan for Best Picture, it marked a turning point in Academy history—Academy lobbying had officially arrived.

Of course, lobbying existed long before, passed down through the years, but it wasn’t until then that it became a fully developed concept.

It was also the moment when the Weinstein brothers, the masterminds behind Shakespeare in Love, stepped into the spotlight, transforming the awards season into a full-blown campaign of marketing, socializing, promotion, and public relations.

But that’s another story.

Even though the awards season has gradually been consumed by PR battles, losing some of its original charm, no one can deny the Oscars' influence on the industry and the market.

First, the Oscars are awarded by anonymous votes from over six thousand industry professionals. Regardless of the level of prestige, it represents recognition and praise from the industry, a significance other awards shows can’t match.

Second, while its authority and myth have somewhat faded, it remains the most well-known award worldwide. Even a nomination draws significant attention from the public.

The Oscar-related industry has expanded globally, creating its own economic value chain.

The influence of the Oscars is everywhere.

No matter what, the Oscars are still the Oscars.

Moreover, compared to what the future holds twenty years from now, the impact of lobbying hasn’t fully saturated the process yet. Every year’s winners still carry surprises, and the Oscars’ prestige is undeniable.

At this point in time, before the internet and short videos took over people’s lives, the annual Oscar ceremony remained one of the most entertaining television events in North America, second only to the Super Bowl. Its global viewership also leads all other shows.

It’s clear that, right now, the Oscars hold a significant place in the industry.

Just a simple nomination for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind impacted the casting choices, and Anson had already felt the weight of an Oscar nomination firsthand.

A nomination—just a nomination—had quietly shifted so many perspectives.

Now, the influence of the Oscars was landing squarely on Anson’s shoulders.

"An invitation to the ceremony," Edgar said.

Finally, Anson caught on, surprised without hiding it. "Already? Wow, that’s sooner than I expected."

Edgar replied, "You’re right, it’s earlier than usual."

"Typically, around the time of the Golden Globes, the Academy begins considering presenters and attendees. They need to confirm intentions ahead of time. If someone declines after the list is made public, it’s embarrassing."

Anson, intrigued, asked like a curious spectator, "People actually refuse to attend the Oscars?"

"Of course. The Academy has invited Woody Allen multiple times, and he’s declined every time."

"So far, Woody’s only attended once, after the 9/11 attacks, to pay tribute to his beloved New York as it recovered from the tragedy."

"There have been other big stars who refused to attend and embarrassed the Academy."

"Richard Burton, after losing four nominations, refused to attend for his fifth. He even convinced his then-wife, Elizabeth Taylor, to skip the ceremony as well."

"Paul Newman did the same. After seven failed nominations, when he finally won for The Color of Money on his eighth try, he didn’t attend and didn’t regret it. He said it was like chasing a woman for eighty years, and when she finally said yes, he was too tired to care."

"Katharine Hepburn also never collected any of her four Best Actress Oscars. She never attended, stating that her career was never about winning awards."

Anson laughed out loud, "Well, they don’t have to worry about me. I definitely won’t turn it down."

Edgar, however, didn’t agree easily. "Really? Are you sure? Are you ready to attend the ceremony?"

*Chapter 780: The Mask of Arrogance*

"Really? Are you sure? Are you ready to attend the awards ceremony?" It was rare to see, but this time it was Edgar who hesitated about Oscar.

Anson was surprised, raising an eyebrow slightly as a chuckle escaped from the corner of his mouth. "Captain, what's wrong? Did the tone of the academy's invitation offend you?"

Edgar picked up on Anson's teasing and couldn't help but laugh as well.

"Typically, the academy sends invitations to guests in four batches for the awards ceremony, one after another after the Golden Globes, announcing them in stages to build hype and get the audience excited."

"Obviously, the nominees are the exception."

"The academy always assumes that the nominees are 100% willing to attend the ceremony, so they're in no rush. They wait until the nominations are announced before politely confirming the details and guest lists to avoid unnecessary repetition."

"But now, the nomination list hasn't been released yet, and the academy has already invited you—"

The implication was clear.

Anson suddenly understood. "So, what you're saying is, the subtext of this invitation is that I didn't get nominated."

Otherwise, the academy could have easily waited until after the nominations were out to send the invitation. Even though he'd still be attending as a guest, his status would be different.

Edgar responded, "No, it’s more than that."

"The subtext is, 'Even though you, Anson Wood, weren't nominated, our academy can’t miss out on your popularity, yet we refuse to admit it, so we’ll pretend we’re being generous by inviting you. You should be so grateful that you’ll drop to your knees in thanks, even though we didn't bother to hide our intentions. We won’t even wait until the nominations are announced to extend the invite. We're outright mocking you, and you’ll just have to swallow your pride and smile through it.'"

Blunt and unapologetic.

"Anson, this is a slap in the face, an arrogant gesture that couldn't be clearer."

Edgar was extremely dissatisfied—very, very dissatisfied.

More than the issue of whether Anson got nominated, what truly angered Edgar was the academy's office not even bothering with the pretense of politeness, their arrogance and disdain slipping through without even trying to hide it.

Honestly, if the academy disapproved of a 'pretty boy idol' like Anson, they could have simply not invited him. After all, stars like Matthew McConaughey, Adam Sandler, and Hugh Grant didn’t get invited every year either. The academy wasn't singling anyone out; they treated everyone the same.

But clearly, they couldn't pass up Anson's current buzz and popularity. Just look at the reaction following the Golden Globes.

So instead, they put on this half-hearted act.

It was hypocritical and downright ugly.

Edgar couldn’t stomach it.

On the other end of the line, however, came Anson’s bright, carefree laughter.

"Ha, so what?"

"They want to use me, and don’t I want to leverage their attention too? We’re playing the same game. Who’s using who, really?"

"Leonardo went through the same thing, didn’t he?"

"Captain, tell me, if I attend the Oscars without a nomination, who benefits more?"

The answer, of course, was Anson.

Undeniably, Anson’s foundation was still weak. Even just walking the red carpet at the Oscars would elevate his standing in the public eye.

Edgar understood the logic too—

The key was, the academy understood as well. They knew exactly where Anson stood, and that’s why they had the audacity to be so arrogant and dismissive.

But Edgar still couldn’t swallow this insult.

When Anson didn’t hear Edgar respond, he knew exactly what was going through his mind.

Anson chuckled softly, "Captain, aren't our roles reversed here?"

"If I remember correctly, it’s the agent who usually sees through Hollywood’s ugly games, while the actor is the naive, self-centered fool. The agent is supposed to convince the actor to swallow their pride, because who knows who’ll have the last laugh, right?"

"But now, you need me to talk you down?"

"Wait a minute, didn’t I just hear someone say they wanted to take on their responsibilities as an agent and apologize for making the actor handle everything himself?"

"Did you hear it too?"

With his natural sarcasm, Anson’s playful tone had Edgar bursting out in laughter.

Taking a deep breath, Edgar said, "I get it. I’ll handle it. I’ll make them regret it."

Anson laughed aloud. "Then I’ll sit at home and wait for the show."

Edgar chuckled again, rubbing his face as he finally calmed down. "Anson, I just... I’m just upset with their attitude. It’s supposed to be mutually beneficial, but they’re acting all high and mighty, like they’re too good for us. That attitude is infuriating."

Anson replied, "I know. But that’s the nature of this game. Everyone wears a mask to hide their greed and ugliness. Isn’t that right?"

Edgar understood. He fully understood, but understanding from the outside and experiencing it firsthand felt entirely different.

"Anson, are you really only twenty?" Edgar couldn’t help but sigh.

Anson, unfazed by it all, responded smoothly, "Captain, that’s why you thought I was worth the investment, remember?"

In his previous life, Anson had survived real hardship—complete ruin, knife-edge insults, and vicious attacks. The wounds were visible, and he had gotten through it all. Compared to that, these Hollywood games were child’s play, barely even scratching the surface.

To the point where Anson felt a bit awkward—

Look, even Edgar had lost his cool. Shouldn’t Anson at least pretend to be hurt?

But this childish drama didn’t faze him in the slightest. Maybe when he could act like it did, that Oscar statuette would be within reach.

Edgar regained his composure and smiled. "So, you think we should accept the invitation?"

Anson didn’t hesitate. "Of course, why not?"

"Hey, Captain, if we refuse, show a little backbone, then what? They won’t feel a thing, and might even scoff, ‘It’s not like we needed you.’"

"But if we attend, steal the spotlight at the ceremony, and turn it into our stage, we’ll come out on top. Sure, they’ll use us to create buzz, but at the same time, they’ll become our stepping stone."

"Do you think they’ll be able to swallow that?"

Edgar imagined the scene, and a smile crept onto his face.

Then.

Anson added another point.

"Besides, I promised Eddie we’d attend the Oscars. We can’t skip either the Golden Globes or the Oscars."

"If the academy didn’t invite us, I’d have had to think of something else—like walking a pig down the red carpet just to make an entrance. But now, it’s all sorted."

Edgar froze: ???

Wait, what did he just hear? A pig? Did Anson say he planned to walk a pig down the red carpet?