646-650

Chapter 646: Stirring Up a Frenzy

"Honestly, things have spiraled out of control this time."

"Initially, this should have been a good thing. Without DreamWorks having to invest any effort, major media outlets have already begun promoting the film on their own."

"But this is Hollywood. There's no such thing as a free lunch, and now it's clear that things are getting out of hand."

"In my view, there’s more than one force at play behind the scenes."

"Anyway, you're now the center of attention, and when someone rises to fame, trouble naturally follows. You don’t even need conflicts—there are already countless people who dislike you for no reason, just waiting for an opportunity to stir things up."

"As a result, we're facing attacks from all sides, caught in a situation of being praised to death."

The situation was becoming tricky—

Edgar’s concerns weren’t unfounded.

Back in the day, Leonardo DiCaprio shot to stardom overnight with Titanic, and the overwhelming attention was staggering. Every move he made was scrutinized under a microscope—he couldn't even yawn without being bombarded by camera flashes.

Of course, there was praise, adoration, and attention in abundance.

But at the same time, there were sharp criticisms and nitpicking. One moment, they said Leonardo was abandoning relationships, the next they accused him of betraying his fans. It got to the point where he had to escape to remote rainforests, one of the few places on Earth where he wasn’t recognized.

In that environment, every movie Leonardo starred in was under intense scrutiny, regardless of the budget or target audience. Every project he touched was criticized.

"To wear the crown, you must bear its weight."

Things were that simple.

Now, Anson was facing a similar test. Although Anson hadn’t reached Leonardo's level, since Spider-Man hadn’t broken Titanic's records and was only the second movie to hit such heights, the spotlight still pushed him into the eye of the storm.

It was a form of destructive praise.

Especially considering the star-studded cast of Catch Me If You Can, which guaranteed buzz. From the current hype, if the movie didn’t easily hit $300 million at the box office, the media would waste no time in attacking Anson as a failure.

And there was another detail.

This summer, Steven Spielberg and Tom Cruise teamed up for Minority Report, a film that had high expectations. Both the director and lead actor were at the pinnacle of Hollywood, and the industry was eager for the film to become a box office sensation.

Tom Cruise was extremely proactive, even showing up at the Spider-Man premiere to help with promotions—a rare move.

However, after the film's release, both reviews and ticket sales were disappointing. The high-concept sci-fi movie was deemed too complex, and many viewers complained they couldn't understand it, leading to a lackluster performance at theaters.

In reality, the box office numbers weren’t terrible—$132 million in North America and $350 million globally. But with production costs reaching $100 million, along with hefty marketing and distribution expenses, 20th Century Fox took a significant hit.

What made it worse was that the collaboration between Tom Cruise and Steven Spielberg, which many expected to result in something greater than the sum of its parts, failed to deliver. The high expectations only magnified the disappointment.

Rumor had it that Tom Cruise was furious.

Catch Me If You Can was Spielberg's follow-up, widely seen as his attempt to redeem himself after Minority Report's unexpected flop.

According to reports from Variety, Anson won the lead role in Catch Me If You Can over Leonardo DiCaprio, breaking Spielberg’s recent trend of working with top-tier actors. This only added to the attention the film was receiving.

If the box office numbers were poor, would the media blame Anson, or speculate that Spielberg was in a creative slump? It was hard to predict.

But one thing was certain—the film was under immense pressure.

On the surface, the media was frantically hyping Catch Me If You Can, confidently predicting the film's box office success.

To Edgar, all these voices felt like a buildup to an eventual downfall.

The critical issue was this:

Being praised to death is an open trap.

Even if they knew the media was overhyping the film, they couldn’t make the press stop.

Not only couldn’t they stop it, but they had to smile and express their sincere gratitude for all the praise.

Edgar was genuinely worried.

Still, it was a good problem to have—Spider-Man's momentum was continuing, pushing Anson toward becoming a top-tier star. Even if the film's box office performance fell short, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. But if it succeeded, it would be a major breakthrough.

Worry and anticipation—Edgar was torn between the two emotions as he meticulously planned the upcoming promotional campaign. DreamWorks had its own strategy, but Edgar, as Anson's agent, had his own approach.

But as Edgar droned on, he noticed that Anson seemed distracted.

“Anson.”

“Anson!”

Edgar called out, his expression showing a hint of helplessness.

Finally, Anson snapped back to attention, raised a hand to signal he was listening, but said nothing. Instead, he turned to look at the baby-faced young man standing to the side.

The baby-faced man, looking like he was being punished, stood obediently without sitting. But his eyes constantly darted around, curiously observing everything.

“Noah…”

Anson called out.

Noah realized he’d been caught and immediately straightened up, standing at attention, blurting out, “Mr. Wood!”

Anson chuckled. “So, how do you like the decor?”

Noah blinked a few times. “It’s really nice.”

Before he realized it, Noah had already spoken.

He then quickly tried to apologize, knowing it wasn’t appropriate to casually comment on his employer’s home. But he was a bit too slow, as Anson interjected.

“What about that painting—what do you think of it?”

Noah froze, then reflexively asked, “Is that an actual Degas?”

Anson’s lips curled slightly. “Are you worried I’m hanging a fake?”

Noah’s pale face instantly turned red, flustered as he looked at Anson, nearly on the verge of tears. He mumbled incoherently, unable to get any words out.

A hint of amusement flickered in Anson’s eyes. “I’ll have to check with my father—Mr. Wood. In the meantime, why don’t you take a seat and appreciate the decor? My father would be thrilled that someone finally appreciates it.”

Without realizing it, Noah had already fallen into Anson’s rhythm, his eyes lighting up with interest. “Your father designed this?”

Anson didn’t answer, but Noah didn’t mind, gazing around in awe. Although he didn’t say anything, there was an audible sound of admiration from deep in his throat.

Edgar looked at Anson in surprise—

Impressive, indeed.

No matter how much training he gave the baby-faced Noah, it never seemed to work. But within an hour of being with Anson, the young man was already obeying him without even realizing it.

Unable to help himself, Edgar gave Anson a thumbs up.

*Chapter 647: Adjusting the Mindset*

The interior of the Malibu villa was fully renovated, but the outdoor garden was still unfinished.

Charles Wood planned to plant different evergreen trees in both the front and back yards, creating a serene and picturesque landscape. However, selecting trees wasn't something that could be done carelessly; it required a special selection. Charles personally traveled to the south of France to choose the tree species for his youngest son.

To most people, trees are just trees. But for families with deep roots and traditions, these seemingly insignificant details often represent knowledge, culture, and carry greater meaning.

Clearly, this was the main focus of Charles' work. He was ready to showcase his skills, especially since this was the first piece of real estate his youngest son had purchased through his own efforts.

Despite this, the interior was already in place.

The decor followed a cool-toned style, using beige, light gray, and navy blue as the main colors. Everything appeared understated and clean, and when the sunlight from the Pacific Ocean poured in, the entire space felt ethereal and tranquil, naturally calming any restless thoughts.

"This time, Catch Me If You Can is truly special. It fully showcases your charm as an actor, with the spotlight completely focused on you. Even Tom Hanks is acting alongside you, building a stage exclusively for you—something no previous project has been able to do."

"Your current worries largely stem from your own expectations. Like the media, you also hope that Catch Me If You Can will be a huge success in both critical and box office terms, and you believe the movie has that potential."

At this point, Anson finally shifted his attention and looked over at Edgar.

From a filmmaking perspective, when a movie and actor complement each other and achieve success together, it's a win-win situation.

"So, we need to break the fourth wall, both in the movie and outside of it, to fully showcase your charisma."

This again proved that navigating the world of fame wasn't as simple as it seemed.

"But it's a little different this time."

A Degas painting became the centerpiece of the living room.

Surprisingly, it made sense.

Edgar tried to argue, but the words caught in his throat and he swallowed them back.

"Just keep a level head. After all, Spider-Man’s success has already far exceeded expectations, hasn't it?"

"Of course, I'm hopeful," Anson replied without a moment's hesitation, and Edgar couldn't help but laugh out loud.

Anson added, "I want the movie to succeed, and the bigger the success, the better. If Catch Me If You Can can explode at the box office like Spider-Man did, trust me, I'll welcome it with open arms."

Meanwhile, Noah cautiously sat down, carefully observing the room. The tone and layers of the space completely reflected the work of a master. It was a far cry from Anson’s rumored image as just a pretty face, which caused waves of astonishment in Noah's mind.

"Even if I lose my cool, as my agent, you should remain composed."

However, from an actor's perspective, Edgar wanted to maximize Anson's benefits with this project, and they had their own calculations.

"So, what should we do?"

This wasn’t the first time Edgar marveled at Anson's wisdom, and it probably wouldn't be the last. What remained constant was the fact that each time, it left the same impression.

Edgar looked at Anson with a helpless expression. "Are you even listening to me?"

Charles continued the overall interior design theme, sticking with light tones. Even the choice of paintings seemed vintage and understated. Instead of focusing on modern art, he slightly broke the decor's style by using classical oil paintings as accent pieces to brighten the space.

Edgar regained his smile. "So, don’t you expect the movie to succeed?"

Things like this and more.

Ambition, slowly emerging.

"What I'm saying is that there's no need to lose your composure because of the pressure of results."

Anson was serious, and if Charles knew that, it would make him happy.

Edgar asked, "What?"

Lamps. Vases. Paintings.

In fact, interior design wasn’t Charles’ expertise. What he truly excelled at was arrangement, pairing, and landscaping—essentially, the finishing touches after the renovation.

Edgar took a deep breath. "We need to create an image, just like with the Emmys. Seize this opportunity to establish your identity as an actor."

Anson waved his hand. "No worries, this won’t happen again."

This was another way of interpreting things.

"On one hand, this is a chance to maximize Spider-Man’s impact. Before Catch Me If You Can hits the box office, we seize the opportunity to capitalize on the spotlight."

So, whether a movie succeeds or fails, don't overemphasize the actor's role.

Noah immediately noticed Charles’ thoughtful arrangement.

Edgar shook his head gently. "That used to be the case, but now that we've become more familiar and our collaboration is on track, it doesn't seem as necessary. However, I can't take your trust for granted. Otherwise, we'll grow complacent, and problems will arise in our partnership."

Anson replied, "What I'm saying is that there's no need to worry about the success or failure of just one or two projects."

"As actors, who hasn’t starred in a few flops?"

"Besides, those explanations are because I need to hear your input. You always offer a fresh perspective."

Edgar: ...

"I'm not saying this because Leonardo's career remained intact after facing backlash, or because Steven and Tom’s movie underperformed at the box office. I'm saying this because it's all part of the process."

Anson looked completely serious. "So, what do we need to do?"

Indeed, actors want every project to be a classic. But in reality, that’s often impossible, because an actor is just one part of the film, and their control is quite limited.

Indeed, sometimes a movie’s success or failure is directly tied to the actor. But more often than not, the two have little to do with each other.

"But."

"And the success of a character and the success of a movie are two different things."

Anson found this interesting, raised his chin slightly, and thought about it for a moment. Then, without saying much more, he responded through action.

Thus.

"No need to worry."

Of course, it wasn’t one of Degas’ famous pieces, but it was understated and reserved. Edgar had been in and out of the villa several times and hadn’t noticed it, but it caught Noah’s attention.

Edgar quietly watched Anson, feeling a slight release of tension.

Anson smiled. "Captain, I trust your judgment. You don’t need to explain every detail—just tell me what to do. Usually, those explanations are to get the actor on board with the plan, but I’m already fully on board, so there’s no need."

"What I mean is, there’s no need to obsess over a movie’s box office performance."

Edgar burst out laughing. "Very unfortunate—I’ve let you down."

"On the other hand, this is also a chance to break away from the Spider-Man stereotype. Up until now, your high school student image is still deeply ingrained in the public’s mind, and even in Catch Me If You Can you’re playing a teenager. But we can't keep playing the same roles. You need to branch out and broaden your range as an actor. This publicity campaign is the perfect opportunity."

After finishing, Edgar looked at Anson and saw that he wasn’t planning to share his opinion. Edgar understood and got straight to the point of the plan.

"Styling."

*Chapter 648: Fashion Icon*

Edgar had an ambition:

To not only fully showcase Anson's charm as an actor and as a man but also to present him as a fashion icon.

Up until now, there have been countless female fashion icons, from models to singers to actresses. Fashion has long been an important label for female artists, with top actresses being no exception. Everyone desires to be a trendsetter like Jennifer Aniston, who influences fashion effortlessly.

But what about male fashion icons?

There are none.

One simple and direct example is Mark Wahlberg. This actor gradually established himself in Hollywood with films like Boogie Nights, Planet of the Apes, and The Perfect Storm. But in fact, his breakthrough came from his CK underwear modeling campaign.

That was CK's first attempt to link underwear with sex appeal and fashion, and showing the waistband above jeans became a trend.

Young Mark Wahlberg quickly became a hot topic, and for the first time, men's sensuality became openly displayed and celebrated.

In an instant, the entire industry turned upside down.

Numbers don’t lie; they reflect market demand. Overnight, the fashion world realized the immense potential of the male fashion market.

"I don’t have a complete plan yet, but I estimate that at least 300 outfits will be needed to fully display Anson's power as a fashion trendsetter."

"Any brand you can think of, it’s not an issue—luxury brands, high-end labels, whatever."

Edgar felt stunned. To him, this was an earth-shattering proposal, something that would completely revolutionize the industry. Yet to Anson, it seemed so effortless and nonchalant.

“So, sponsorships will be crucial.”

Because 20 years later, when smartphones became ubiquitous and social media pervasive, every moment a celebrity appeared in public, even for something as simple as grabbing a coffee or taking out the trash, it became part of their public image. Life was wrapped in a bubble of lights and shadows.

"We need to create impact—more importantly, an impression. Your presence itself should scream fashion, and every time the public sees you, they should be left with a lasting memory."

“Anson, so here’s a problem: we might not be able to renew with Dior.”

It wasn’t a brand-level issue—business partnerships come and go; that’s normal. But personally, Eddie had given Anson a platform, which had boosted his visibility, making their relationship not so simple.

Edgar wondered if he was overthinking things.

"...This time, we need to put more effort into styling."

At last October's Spring/Summer Fashion Week, Dior became an industry disruptor. Its influence extended beyond fashion, touching various sectors, with entertainment being at the forefront.

Without a doubt, Edgar had shown his foresight.

Otherwise, how could Anson, as Dior's brand ambassador, wear another label's clothing?

It would either be a deliberate snub or an act of dominance.

Edgar was concerned.

“The movie will be promoted in different cities. My idea is that during every appearance—whether it's for a TV show, a radio interview, or even walking to the studio—you’ll need a different outfit and look.”

“From suits to sportswear, from jeans to leather jackets, a full range of styles.”

Unlike the deeply entrenched female fashion market, which has been cultivated for half a century, the male fashion market is practically barren. Every brand is starting from the same point, and everyone has a chance. Dior is only slightly ahead, and it’s not unbeatable.

There are no permanent enemies in this world, only permanent interests.

If possible, Edgar didn’t want to burn bridges, especially in the fickle world of fame and fortune, where relationships are particularly valuable.

"More than 70 brands have already expressed interest in sponsoring this promotional tour."

He smelled opportunity.

Some might ask, where did all the previous objections go? Why the sudden silence?

First, industry experts, led by legends like Anna Wintour and Karl Lagerfeld, showed support. Edgar, too, stood by this movement.

Almost everyone realized that the male fashion market lacked an icon, a leader. Even top male models were scarce. The untapped business potential was boundless.

Mark didn’t shy away from his past and happily embraced it. After all, it was where it all began. Yet in Hollywood, when people talk about this, it’s always with a curious, sometimes mocking gaze.

Anson wasn’t surprised. "Mmm, no problem."

After all, his role in this film showcased his versatility.

Edgar took a deep breath and continued.

A year later, Edgar realized that if Anson could seize this opportunity and become a male fashion trendsetter, he could solidify his superstar status and become the first to open up a new path in Hollywood.

A year ago, Edgar and his team had worked hard to avoid linking Anson to modeling and fashion, fearing it would trap him in the image of a "pretty face." His acting career hadn’t even started before he'd be pigeonholed. That would be disastrous.

Then Dior changed everything.

So now Edgar was worried about how to approach Eddie with this conversation.

Society, deep down, still resisted male fashion.

Secondly, the revenue numbers spoke volumes. A single season of Dior menswear under Eddie Slimane’s direction brought in as much as four previous seasons combined. Dior's profits skyrocketed, nearing those of top women’s fashion brands, sending shockwaves through the industry.

Perhaps Catch Me If You Can could help Anson achieve this feat.

Looks like he still had work to do.

"Not just for the premiere."

Edgar tilted his head, thinking seriously. If it were Anson, it seemed logical—Anson always amazed him, while his own surprises for Anson were too rare.

Although Edgar hadn’t fully realized it yet, Anson could see that Edgar was ahead of his time, grasping the essence of fame and fortune.

But Anson was worried about something else. "Are all the outfits sponsored?"

Edgar didn’t get it. He nodded, “Yes.”

Anson shook his head. “If that’s the case, your plan will most likely fail. This won’t work.”

*Chapter 649: Destined to Fail*

In Edgar, one could see foresight, ambition, and decisiveness. From the very beginning, his decision to take an alternative path by investing a great deal of time in Anson and betting everything on him highlighted Edgar’s wisdom.

However, Edgar had his limitations—

After all, he wasn’t a know-it-all.

For this reason, Edgar was keen on communicating with Anson. He believed in Anson's perspective, which often pinpointed the crucial points and even sparked inspiration, opening the door to a new world.

And now, it was happening again.

“... This won’t work.”

With a casual remark, Anson swiftly dismissed Edgar's plan.

Clearly, this wasn’t Brad Pitt; it was Brad Renfro.

That pitiful expression made Anson burst into laughter; meanwhile, not far behind, Noah looked over in horror—

“Fashion also requires exploration.”

Brad Renfro stood hesitantly at the entrance of the carved gate, wondering whether he should turn around and leave. He glanced at the taxi parked by the roadside. Just making this trip to Malibu had already used up half his courage. If he stayed any longer, he wasn’t sure he could handle it.

Edgar spread his hands with a calm expression. “I’m used to embarrassing myself in front of you. It’s better than embarrassing myself in front of others. If I embarrassed myself at William Morris, I might not even have bones left by now.”

Anson imagined the scene but found it hard to picture the backstabbing in the agent world. Having never experienced it, it still lacked some realism.

At that moment—

“If we choose these brand sponsorships now, we might be taking a risk.”

“So, opting for these top-tier brands often means playing it safe, being rigid, lacking creativity, and missing uniqueness. It’s not that they’re bad, but what they offer might end up being just a soulless mannequin.”

With a sigh, Anson turned to Noah. “Leave this client to me.”

“Anson, I just wanted to talk, but if you think it’s not right, you have my number.” Brad’s voice came through the walkie-talkie again, sounding a bit deflated.

Yet, Edgar didn’t interrupt Anson, patiently waiting for him to finish speaking, his smile tinged with bitterness.

“Secondly, let’s take a step back. Assuming fashion brands have figured things out and are boldly designing, we could uncover gems beyond Dior.”

However, Anson hadn’t gotten used to it yet.

Edgar didn’t pause. “So, what’s your suggestion? If we don’t choose brand sponsorships, are we going to foot the bill ourselves?”

“If we go with brand sponsorships, in my opinion, your plan is likely to fail, and it could even have unintended negative consequences, wiping out the fashion image and reputation we've built so far.”

As Anson’s assistant, Noah had already moved into a guest room at Anson’s villa, a room by the pool, taking care of all of Anson’s daily affairs, including but not limited to driving, cleaning, doorman duties, and odd jobs.

“No uniqueness means no edge.”

Realizing his movements might have been noticed, Noah quickly turned back, staring blankly ahead. However, his stiff neck and shoulders betrayed the storm brewing inside him.

Then Noah appeared. “Mr. Wood, I can handle this. You don’t need to worry about such things.”

Anson snapped back to reality, giving a meaningful smile. “Right, but also not quite. Captain, we may need a little extra help.”

Anson gathered his scattered thoughts, smiled again, and apologized, “Sorry, I’m still not used to having someone other than Luca in the house.”

A name long gone from Anson’s life, without any news or signs, suddenly resurfaced without warning.

Anson realized Brad was still standing at the door.

Indeed, if Anson didn’t want to see him, he didn’t have to. After all, he owed Brad nothing, nor did he feel guilty. But upon reflection, it seemed unnecessary. After all, Hollywood is a small place. Even if they didn’t see each other today, they might run into each other somewhere else.

Beep.

Edgar raised an eyebrow slightly. “Who? Tell me, and I’ll find this person and convince them.”

Ding-dong.

“Phew. That’s why I needed your opinion.”

Anson became slightly lost in thought.

In that brief moment, countless thoughts flashed through his mind.

To be exact, Anson hadn’t quite gotten used to this villa either. Everything took time.

Or maybe, did he really need to meet him?

Anson noticed but didn’t call Noah out, his gaze returning to Edgar.

“First of all, the current style of men’s fashion is still in its early stages, almost primitive. The major brands aren’t sure how to proceed, with hardly any noteworthy collections. So, Dior has a clear advantage, standing alone.”

Straightforward and decisive.

Anson pressed the walkie-talkie, joking lightly, “Brad? Why are you here now? What’s the reason behind this timing? Our last meeting didn’t exactly end on a high note, so do I even want to see him?”

Facing Anson, Edgar took a deep breath, controlling his emotions and offering a smile. “Anson, I’m a little hurt right now.”

Pause.

“Captain, what I mean is that the plan is feasible, but the execution needs a strategic shift.”

Edgar remained Edgar. He didn’t doubt Anson’s judgment and had already decided to align with him, trusting him as always.

...

The other party seemed hesitant but eventually added, “It’s Brad.”

“You should come in now. Do I need to greet you at the gate?”

Edgar exhaled deeply, though pained and frustrated, he realized that Anson was right.

“Even if not one or two years, at least a quarter or two are needed for major fashion brands to figure out the way forward.”

“But we must note that the more high-end the brand, the more focused on the market. And the closer they are to the mainstream, the more they avoid standing out, because the mainstream is where the money is.”

The sound of the doorbell echoed from afar, like a deep chime resonating through the air, leaving a lingering tone.

If it had been anyone else, Edgar might have coldly mocked them without hesitation. He had his pride, his temper, and his resolve—he wasn’t someone easily manipulated.

Noah gave a shy smile. “It’s okay, you’ll get used to it. Mr. Wood, do you need me to go to the gate to welcome the guest?”

No one expected that the voice from the walkie-talkie would be from a completely unexpected person. “Anson, it’s me.”

Anson tilted his head. “Wait, seems like we’ve switched roles here?”

“Hey, buddy, you’re a little early…”

With a dull thud, the carved gate slowly opened, revealing a lush, green path ahead. Brad couldn’t help but gaze forward.

Taking a deep breath, Brad waved at the taxi, then turned and started walking down the tree-lined path. His heart raced uncontrollably, and after two turns, he saw Anson standing at the door, smiling as he welcomed him.

*Chapter 650: Unexpected Interruption*

Thump. Thump.

Brad's heart was pounding wildly, almost as if it was going to leap out of his throat, making him feel nauseous.

He couldn't help but glance around. He had peeked inside from the doorway earlier, but now that he had fully entered, he could truly sense the scale of the villa.

Stunned, overwhelmed, and speechless.

He thought he'd feel envy, jealousy, or a flood of emotions, but surprisingly, none of that came. He was just deeply shocked, his mind momentarily frozen.

Until he saw Anson.

White T-shirt, blue jeans, white canvas shoes, and a smile on his face. He stood there, bright and relaxed, as if the sunlight falling on him became pure and clean.

Anson was still the same Anson, just like he remembered. The success of "Spider-Man" and all the attention from Hollywood hadn’t changed him much.

However, Brad was no longer the same. Ridiculously, he tried to recall his own appearance in his memories but couldn’t find it.

For a brief moment, he wanted to run, to flee. His mind was blank, all thoughts erased, not even knowing why he had come here. But his body moved on instinct, continuing forward, drawn to Anson’s smile, as if his soul had left his body.

“Please…”

“I know… this is an unreasonable request… I have no right… and you don’t owe me anything…”

“But.”

Anson exhaled softly, “You look terrible.”

Brad did indeed look terrible. He nervously fidgeted with his fingers, like a restless child, unable to stand still. His entire demeanor screamed unease, with dark circles under his eyes and bloodshot veins reflecting his exhaustion.

No one knew just how much courage it took for Brad to come to Malibu and stand at Anson’s door.

Anson was a bit surprised.

He also felt a bit of sympathy.

Brad noticed a stranger behind Anson and immediately became tense, his body on high alert, watching closely.

From a distance, the first thought that crossed Brad’s mind was simply this:

Anson didn’t say much. Instead, he stepped aside and made a welcoming gesture. “So, how about it? Do you want to come in and have a look?”

And so, stammering, Brad withdrew once again.

It was hard to describe Brad’s state in just a few words.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry, Anson, I didn’t mean to intrude. I just… whew, I just wanted to talk.”

Because, after all, this was his own fault.

Anson knew Brad had struggled with alcohol and drugs. Although it wasn’t his responsibility, he couldn’t help but wonder what Brad had been through these past few months. It seemed like his very soul was worn out, with his exhaustion and fragility slowly leaking through.

Brad anxiously bit his nails. “I haven’t slept in a week. Well, to be exact, I haven’t slept well. I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

“Sorry, Anson, I’m sorry, you don’t have to listen to all this. I just…”

It made Brad feel incredibly uncomfortable, but he didn’t have time to regret it.

He nervously rubbed his hands together.

Anson smiled. “Chris and James haven’t been here yet. You’re the first.”

Brad felt a lump in his throat, tasting bitterness. He was on the verge of breaking down, his gaze shifting awkwardly as he failed to muster any words. Finally, he took a cautious step forward.

Anson turned to Noah, signaling him to relax. “Noah, could you get us two Cokes? Thanks.”

If Brad wasn’t drinking alcohol, he usually chose Coke—

Because it’s high in sugar.

Brad waved his hands nervously. “No, no need… you don’t have to treat me like a guest.”

Anson just smiled without replying—

If not a guest, then what? They certainly weren’t friends anymore.

Brad’s expression darkened as he quickly averted his gaze.

Anson gave Brad a tour of the place. Then, they left the main hall and walked along the palm-lined path toward the backyard. The gray-blue ocean spread out before them, and the refreshing sea breeze opened up their view. The golden sunlight poured down unhindered, making it feel as though they could embrace the entire world.

Without meaning to, Brad muttered in awe.

“God, this house is beautiful.” He tried to start a conversation, but it was clear he was out of practice.

Seeing Anson again, he didn’t even know where to rest his eyes.

Anson, however, remained calm and composed. After all, he had experienced so many ups and downs in his past life, and this situation was nothing compared to that.

Anson shrugged lightly. “The property taxes are pretty terrifying too, not to mention the upkeep. I’m already worried about going bankrupt.”

The casual joke made Brad crack a smile, finally finding some comfort. “Lucky for you, there’s still a ‘Spider-Man’ sequel, right?”

“Thank God. No matter what people say, those paychecks are real,” Anson quipped exaggeratedly.

Brad chuckled.

Anson did too, his lips curling slightly. After a pause, he said, “I heard about the Oscar project. Wow, that’s something worth celebrating. So, when does shooting start?”

Though they hadn’t kept in touch, Hollywood was a small circle, and news traveled fast, whether you cared or not.

What was surprising, though, was that Brad had landed the lead role in the project.

Earlier that summer, a new project had come into focus, produced by Frank Marshall.

Who’s Frank Marshall?

One of Hollywood’s top producers, Steven Spielberg’s close partner. He produced films like “Indiana Jones,” “Back to the Future,” and “The Bourne Identity”—and those are just a few of his many hits. For the past 20 years, you could almost always find one of his productions in the year-end top ten at the North American box office.

His reputation, connections, and resources were top-tier. Any project that caught Frank’s eye was guaranteed success in Hollywood.

Every project in Hollywood starts with a goal:

Is it a genre film or an art film? Is it aiming for the big European festivals or the Oscars? If it’s a genre film, is it for the summer or holiday season? If it’s an Oscar contender, are we targeting the acting categories or Best Picture?

These choices shape the entire production.

Naturally, many projects set their course from the very beginning. This time, Frank’s project had its sights firmly set on Oscar season.

The reason was simple: the project was based on the book Seabiscuit: An American Legend, a biography with themes of hope from the Great Depression, making it a perfect fit for Oscar contention.

Frank’s goal was to create a film that would attract widespread attention during development, and that’s exactly what happened. Many actors were vying for the lead role.

No one expected Brad Renfro’s name to emerge as the top contender, but the industry buzz was growing—

Could this finally be Brad’s big break?