Everything started with the "Number Murder Case."
Although the film's box office and critical reception both fell below expectations, it attracted considerable attention from Hollywood professionals. Brad Renfro and Ryan Gosling both gained a lot of recognition:
Setting aside everything else, when casting directors and producers consider actors, having your name come up is already a breakthrough.
That's why Hollywood always says, "Go act, go work, take any opportunity, even if it's a terrible one." No one can predict where an opportunity might lead or what the result will be. Just having a chance means the possibility of something.
The "Number Murder Case" was exactly that.
Even though it failed, it put Brad Renfro on Frank Marshall's radar. After three rounds of auditions, Brad unexpectedly became the first actor confirmed for this Oscar project.
At present, there's no confirmed director or other cast members, and the script is still in development. Brad's role isn't finalized, but having Frank's name attached to the project has already drawn early attention. It's likely that Brad will have a spot during next year's awards season.
Whether or not he gets nominated is secondary; the key is appearing in the awards season discussions, getting exposure, attention, and recognition. Brad's career has suddenly opened up.
Opportunities like this are rare.
Is Anson envious?
Not at all.
Brad has his opportunities, and Anson has his own.
So Anson sincerely offers his congratulations.
But...
Brad seems a bit anxious. "Well, according to the original plan, filming should start early next month, but I, uh, I'm not going to take this project."
Anson couldn't hide his surprise. "What happened?"
Brad took a deep breath. "That's why I'm here. I don't care about the work, or at least, I'm trying not to care so much."
"Because… ugh… because the whole Vanity Fair thing nearly drove me insane. It's slowly killing me, turning me into someone I don't even recognize."
This time, Anson didn't make any jokes. They both understood how being in the public eye was changing them into unrecognizable versions of themselves. Something deep within them seemed to be corroding, decaying, collapsing. They thought they'd be the exception, that they wouldn't change like others, but by the time they noticed the transformation, it was already too late.
Brad rubbed his face with both hands, and his once handsome features now looked even more haggard.
"I think I've really gone mad."
"I waited for the audition results. I waited for the producer's response. After four auditions, I had to be patient for feedback."
"But no reply came."
"I couldn't disturb Frank Marshall. Who am I? Just a nobody. I couldn't just call him up and demand an answer. I didn't even dare bother the casting director. So, I kept messaging the casting director's assistant, who's just as powerless as I am."
"I don't even know how many texts or voicemails I left. Five hundred? Six hundred? I filled her inbox."
"At first, I was begging, but later I lost my mind."
"I thought she was ignoring me. I thought she was ruining my opportunity. I thought she was destroying my future. My head was filled with so many thoughts, slowly spiraling into darkness."
"And then..."
"I, uh, found her address and went straight to her house."
Anson: ...
Anson's first reaction was disbelief, staring at Brad in shock.
The last incident was already absurd, but now, it seemed like just the tip of the iceberg. Since moving out, Brad had spiraled deeper into chaos, and his world was rapidly unraveling, leaving nothing but madness.
Anson wasn't prepared for this.
Brad gave a bitter smile and nodded slightly in confirmation.
"That's why I said, I've gone crazy."
"Not just you, even I can't recognize myself anymore."
"Before, during Hayden's audition, you and James auditioned, and we told you to stay calm, be patient. One or two months is nothing. But when it came to me, I lost all reason."
"I waited for the producer's response. I waited for them to choose a director. I waited for the project to move forward. I couldn't stay calm for even a second. I kept contacting that assistant, but I got no response. I even started calling hospitals, worrying something might have happened to her."
Anson tried to control himself, resisting the urge to interrupt Brad, but finally couldn't hold back. "You mean the casting director's assistant?"
Project decisions aren't made by assistants. Not even casting directors have the final say.
In other words, Brad had been freaking out at the wrong person.
Brad understood and gave another bitter smile, rubbing his temples.
"You know, looking back now, I see how irrational it was. But at the time, my mind was clouded with thoughts, and I couldn't think straight. I just felt like Hollywood was out to get me, that there were countless people ready to take my place."
"Heh, I couldn't see them, but I felt like they were everywhere."
"Oh, God."
Brad rubbed his face harder, his slumped shoulders revealing immense fatigue and helplessness, as if he might fall apart at any moment.
Anson wanted to comfort him, to say anyone could go through this, that they were all victims of Hollywood's poison. After all, look at Sunset Boulevard—people will even die for fame and fortune. At least Brad hadn't crossed that line. But as the words reached Anson's lips, he couldn't say them.
Because Brad had crossed a line.
He had secretly found that casting director assistant's home.
If she called the police...
Brad hadn't noticed Anson's silence or internal struggle and kept talking.
"Until I was standing at her front door, like John Cusack holding a boombox in Say Anything, making a grand gesture. But obviously, John Cusack's scene was romantic. What I was doing? Definitely not."
"And then..."
"She told me the audition had already happened the day before."
"Technically, it was Friday, and I showed up at her house on Saturday night—thirty-six hours later, to be exact."
Is this some sort of absurd comedy?
Compared to this, the incident at the critics' reading event was nothing. Small potatoes.
Even though Anson tried his best to hide his reaction, his eyes still revealed a hint of disbelief and absurdity. Despite thinking he had seen it all, that nothing could surprise him anymore, he had clearly been proven wrong. His mind had been blown wide open.
Indeed, there's always someone crazier.
In the grand stage of Hollywood's vanity, Anson was still a newcomer. For a moment, he didn't know how to respond.
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