Capítulo 310: Chapter 311: Talking to Oneself
[Chapter 311: Talking to Oneself]
Brad Pitt and Famke Janssen got into Hans Whitler's car. Even though they sat together in the backseat, they both instinctively leaned against the door, seeming eager to avoid any contact with one another.
"Mr. Whitler, may I use your mobile phone?" Brad Pitt said after a moment's thought, realizing it would be better to inform his agent about this situation.
Hans Whitler handed over the bulky brick of a phone that he had resting beside him. Brad thanked him and dialed his agent, Sheryl Cody. In front of Famke Janssen and Hans Whitler, he explained the situation briefly before hanging up.
Noticing the unabashed disdain on Famke Janssen's face, Brad wanted to curse her out right then and there: "What right do you have to look down on me, you opportunistic bimbo?"
...
Over an hour later, the three arrived at the Firefly Films headquarters. Brad's agent, Sheryl Cody, was already waiting outside. Hans Whitler said something to the receptionist and then took the three of them directly upstairs to Eric's office.
"Mr. Williams is currently auditioning actors. You'll need to wait for a while. I have to head back," Hans Whitler said as he instructed the secretary serving coffee to the group and quickly departed. Eric had specifically requested to see Brad Pitt and Famke Janssen, and Hans certainly didn't want to 'overhear' anything.
Once Hans and the secretary exited, Sheryl Cody, who was sitting on a large sofa, whispered to Brad Pitt before glancing over at Famke Janssen. "Miss Janssen, could you do me a favor?"
Famke Janssen was casually flipping through some magazines on the coffee table, seemingly indifferent to the tension. Unlike Brad, who had been struggling in Hollywood for seven or eight years, she was still just a newcomer.
In any industry, before facing countless setbacks, newcomers often thought they still had plenty of opportunities. If they failed, they could always try again.
Hearing Sheryl Cody's words, Famke lifted her head, taking in the petite yet striking woman across from her, but she didn't speak.
"Here's the thing, Miss Janssen, you and Brad really don't have any relationship, right? So could you..."
"Don't worry; we don't have any relationship to begin with. You don't have to worry about me saying anything," Famke said coolly as she looked down.
Sheryl Cody felt a bit awkward, but she pressed on, "Miss Janssen, it's not easy for Brad to get this opportunity for the lead role."
The young woman tightened her grip on the magazine but didn't say anything more.
The atmosphere fell silent.
...
"Thank you for auditioning, Mr. Brosnan. We will notify you of the results as soon as possible," an assistant said to a handsome man in his thirties inside a spacious audition room.
Once he left, two assistant directors huddled close to Eric. "How did it go, Mr. Williams?"
"Still not right," Eric shook his head, placing an 'X' next to Pierce Brosnan's name.
The 007 actor had left a significant impression on him. After all, he had starred in four 007 films, and they had all been in late years. It would have been hard to forget him. Although he had good acting skills and looked the part of a bank manager, Eric just couldn't picture him in the role of Sam in Ghost.
"That means we've come up empty-handed today," one assistant director complained with a grin.
"Take your time. No rush," Eric said as he closed the folder in front of him. He instructed his assistant to tidy up before telling everyone, "Let's continue tomorrow. I have some business to attend to; I'm leaving for now."
...
After leaving the audition room, Eric took the elevator to his office on the top floor. Upon entering, he quickly noticed three people sitting in two distinct groups.
Seeing him, the three stood up and greeted him eagerly.
"It's fine; sit down," Eric waved his hand. Spotting Sheryl Cody, he smiled, "Ms. Cody, what brings you here?"
Sheryl Cody smiled back. "I just had some free time."
Eric nodded without comment, walking over to his desk to pull out a newspaper. He returned to the lounge area and sat on another sofa, spreading the paper out on the coffee table.
"Well, I..."
Before Eric could finish, Brad Pitt rushed to interject, "Mr. Williams, this is really a misunderstanding. I have no relationship with Miss Janssen."
Eric frowned slightly. "What?"
"Mr. Williams," Sheryl Cody, although irritated by Brad's lack of composure, picked up the explanation, "Yesterday during the filming of The X-Files in Santa Monica, Brad and Miss Janssen happened to arrive at the set together. After parking, they walked to the set together, and that's when the paparazzi snapped their picture. It was really a misunderstanding; there's nothing between them."
Eric looked over at Brad, who was eager to clear things up, then at Sheryl Cody, and finally at Famke Janssen.
The young woman met Eric's gaze and, reluctantly, nodded slightly. "Yes, I have no relationship with Mr. Pitt; it was just a coincidence."
Eric closed the newspaper and shrugged. "Alright, seems like there's no need to discuss this further. Ms. Cody, Mr. Pitt, you're free to leave now."
Both Brad Pitt and Sheryl Cody felt relieved knowing Eric wasn't going to pursue the matter any further. They expressed their thanks and quickly exited.
...
Once they left, Eric walked over to the coffee machine, poured two cups, and returned to the sofa, handing one to Famke Janssen.
She took a sip, peered up quickly at Eric, and softly asked, "What are you going to do with me?"
"What?" Eric, having just settled back on the couch after a long day, didn't catch her soft voice.
"Hmm," Famke let out a slight sound, infused with a hint of melancholy. "I meant, what are you going to do with me?"
"Have you been through something?" Eric asked curiously, noticing her tone was a bit defeated.
"It's all your fault. Ugh..." she mumbled, but she oddly cut off the last word.
Eric chuckled, narrowing his eyes as he sighed back on the sofa. "Would you mind helping me rub my temples? I've had a long day, and my head hurts a bit."
Moments later, a pair of cool, delicate fingers gently pressed against his temples. A fragrance unlike any other woman surrounded him -- subtle and pleasant.
"If I said the news on the front page this morning was just to tell you to keep it low-key, you wouldn't believe me, would you?" Eric suddenly said after a while.
The hand stopped for a moment before it resumed its gentle kneading.
"Ha, you probably won't believe it; I barely believe it myself, but it's true. In this television show's context, the male and female leads don't end up together until the very end, maintaining an ambiguous relationship to keep the ratings up. If you two were to get together in real life, then their ambiguity in the show would seem kind of fake. That's why I wanted you both to keep it low-key and avoid being spotted by the paparazzi."
Famke remained silent, but the fingers on Eric's temples grew gentler.
Eric kept rambling as if talking to himself, "This morning, I almost got into an argument with my partner. He feels he hasn't received enough, so he always wants more. Greed is a natural thing, there's no shame in it. But if you want more, you need to show some corresponding strength. He doesn't have that strength."
"Jenny left me not long ago; she was my... first woman. That whole fiasco, everything. She chose to leave, and honestly, that wasn't wrong. But I kept thinking about getting her back, even if it meant building a castle on the edge of a cliff, locking her inside, raising her as a princess, my own princess.
I built a house by the sea, dreaming about facing the ocean in spring, but then one by one, they all left, leaving me alone, facing the sea. The house was too big and so empty.
I wanted too much but could never grasp anything; in the end, they all slipped away. I lost the will to try anymore; after all, they were bound to leave anyway. I was genuinely interested in you, you know. I really liked your long legs."
"You're too soft-hearted," for some reason, even though Famke felt her cheeks heat up at Eric's last comment, she couldn't help but interject.
Eric was taken aback for a moment before laughing, "Yeah, I am too soft-hearted. A bunch of little girls need a beating."
She seemed short for air before replying, "Uh... I take back what I just said."
Eric took hold of one of Famke's delicate hands, pulling her closer and wrapping his arms around her waist. She complied smoothly, resting her face gently against Eric's chest.
"Have you seen Scent of a Woman? I wrote that screenplay."
After hesitating for a moment, Famke denied, "Haven't seen it. I'll check it out when I can."
"Actually, I can pinpoint the scent of every woman I've been close to, and I've remembered yours too."
The girl chuckled, "That doesn't sound like a good thing, does it?"
"Seems it's really not," Eric remarked with a self-deprecating smile. "Being noticed by me isn't a good thing; it's hard for them to escape."
"Uh..."
"Look, since it's come to this, you might as well not try to run away."
"I'll have to give it a shot; maybe I can escape. I won't be satisfied without trying, and besides, no man seriously needs that many women, not in this day and age anyway, right?"
"No, you're wrong; it's completely possible," Eric replied.
The two engaged in a tangential conversation and, before they knew it, time slipped away slowly as Eric eventually dozed off with her in his arms.
...
When he awoke again, the sky outside had darkened completely. He found a woman's coat draped over him. Eric placed it aside, stretched, and felt a light on him. Turning to the source, he saw Famke Janssen sitting behind his desk, quietly reading a magazine.
Noticing that Eric was awake, the woman looked up and smiled. "Did you sleep well?"
"How long was I out?" Eric stood up and inquired.
Famke glanced at her watch. "It's seven-twenty. The company's security just knocked a moment ago. I told them you were busy, and they didn't press further."
"Oh, why didn't you go back?" Eric asked instinctively, nodding.
Famke raised an eyebrow. "Did you want me to go?"
"Never mind; pretend I didn't ask," Eric shrugged. "So, any plans for tonight?"
"If you hadn't called us in, I would have gone out to a bar with Brad Pitt. Now, that's definitely not happening. Maybe if there's nothing else, I'll head back, freshen up, and sleep before continuing work tomorrow."
"Did you not have a boyfriend before?" Eric asked, curious.
"I'm already twenty-five, okay? How could I not have had a boyfriend?" she replied helplessly. "He was a photographer but we broke up before I came to LA."
"Oh," Eric nodded. "What about next?"
"Hmm?" she tapped her lips and noticed Eric had a mischievous smile. She asked curiously, "What do you mean?"
"Right, maybe," Eric thought for a while, rotating his chair to her side.
Famke regarded Eric's movement, thinking he might do something here, she shrank a bit but didn't move away, her eyes reflecting a hint of anticipation.
However, she had clearly misinterpreted Eric's intention, as he approached her, pulled open a drawer, rummaged through it and then took out a stack of invitation cards, laughing, "Let's go to a party; I've received so many invitations, but I've never gone."
"Ah..." Famke opened her mouth, quickly checking her outfit. "But this outfit doesn't exactly suit a party. Wait, where's the party?"
"Most of them should be in Beverly Hills; you know, that's where most of the stars are," Eric casually flipped over one card that seemed to be from today. "What do you think about this one, from the Coppola family?"
"Francis Ford Coppola?" Famke raised an eyebrow.
Eric nodded. "Yes, the one who directed The Godfather. I'm surprised I even got an invite from them." He flipped through the invitations again and confirmed, "I received it today. Generally, my assistant helps me manage these things. Though I get invites almost every day, I've never actually attended."
"Am I the first?" Famke raised an eyebrow.
Eric chuckled. "Yes, you are the first."
*****
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