Phew.
Brad let out a soft breath, the heavy air from his chest dissipating slightly in the Malibu sea breeze. Though still exhausted, his tense shoulders relaxed a bit, leaving a mix of emptiness and relief.
Looking around, the empty streets of Malibu were devoid of cars; forget taxis, even regular traffic was sparse.
Of course, Brad could call a cab company to get a taxi, but he decided instead to just walk along the street.
He wanted to take a walk.
The gentle breeze and the sound of waves, without the city's crowd and noise, eased the suffocating pressure in his chest. The golden and blue scenery rushed in all at once, and his heavy steps seemed a bit lighter.
After walking for a while, Brad decided to take off his shoes and socks and walk on the beach, moving slowly to the sound of the crashing waves.
He began to feel the sand with his feet, only to find that Malibu's beach wasn't so friendly. The sand was rough and coarse, not at all comfortable to stand on barefoot. So, why do so many people settle in Malibu?
Moreover!
The key point is, Malibu has always advertised how beautiful and stunning its beaches are. Could he sue the Malibu City Hall for false advertising?
Or is it that the real good beaches in Malibu aren't here?
After all, Malibu has so many beaches, maybe the ones suited for sunbathing and vacationing aren't here?
"Ouch, ouch, ouch."
Brad hopped around. What seemed like a romantic and carefree act turned out to be utterly foolish. He was seriously considering whether he should go back to the main road and call a taxi to get out of there.
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
A vibration.
After a moment of careful listening, Brad realized it was his phone in his pants pocket.
Instinctively, his first reaction was to pull out his phone, ready to answer, but then he caught himself and almost threw it into the ocean right in front of him.
However, he couldn't bring himself to do it in the end.
Not because of the call's content, but because of the phone itself—
Does anyone know how expensive it is to buy a phone these days?
Throwing away a phone casually not only pollutes the ocean but also means having to buy a new one!
Looking at the phone, Brad finally didn't act on impulse. After hesitating for a moment, he answered the call.
"Hey, Brad, it's Lisa."
"I know. Remember? I filled up your voicemail."
On the other end of the line was the poor casting director's assistant.
Brad felt a bit embarrassed but had learned to laugh at himself and face his mistakes openly.
The person on the other end chuckled, not pressing the issue and even making light of it.
"No worries, the voicemail's been cleared. Feel free to leave more messages."
Brad couldn't help but laugh.
The person didn't continue joking and naturally brought the conversation back.
"About the movie, I've got some great news."
"Frank found Gary Ross. They've already had one meeting, and Gary showed great interest and is actively pushing things forward."
Gary Ross, originally a screenwriter, received an Oscar nomination for Best Original Screenplay back in 1989 for "Big"—a film that can be considered a significant milestone in Tom Hanks' career. Later, "Dave" earned him his second Oscar nomination for Best Original Screenplay.
In 1998, Gary made his directorial debut with "Pleasantville." Though it was his first time directing, his deep connections helped assemble an all-star cast, and he convinced Warner Bros. to invest and distribute. The following year, the film garnered Oscar nominations for Best Art Direction, Best Costume Design, and Best Original Score.
Without a doubt, he's a screenwriter-director highly favored within the Academy.
Though his directing experience is relatively limited, Gary Ross's collaboration with Frank Marshall early on already positioned the movie as a strong contender for awards season.
Step by step, this film's Oscar prospects were starting to brighten.
"Additionally, Jeff Bridges, Chris Cooper, and Forest Whitaker have all shown great interest."
These names, though not box office giants like Tom Cruise or Will Smith, are all highly respected talents within the industry. Jeff Bridges, in particular, who has been nominated four times for an Oscar but has yet to win, is often considered an Academy snub.
The involvement of any one of these actors would be a major asset to the film.
Brad was stunned. "What?"
Actually, Brad was trying to keep himself in check, constantly telling himself not to get too excited, not to overreact, not to care too much, and not to lose his mind again.
However, the words coming from the other end of the phone made his heart race uncontrollably.
Brad took a deep breath. "Sorry, Lisa, is this real? I'm afraid I'll go crazy again and drag you into my madness."
"Hehe." Laughter came from the phone. "I have no authority. I can't make decisions or suggestions. I'm just passing along the current situation. Everything is up to them. But... yes, it's all true and it's happening. Frank is actively pushing it forward."
"In short, they want to meet up tonight for a drink, to sit down and really talk about this project."
"Frank is also on his way from New York to Los Angeles. If he makes it in time, he'll join for dinner as well."
One sentence after another.
There was so much information.
Brad tried to steady his breathing. "Wow, wow, slow down."
But the voice on the other end didn't pause. "Yes, this is all happening, and things will move quickly from here. Frank wants to speed up the process. Brad, I'm just an assistant, so I have no say in anything, but your instincts were right. This could be an Oscar contender."
Then, the call ended.
Brad stood there, holding his phone, his mind blank as he stared at the vast ocean before him.
Crash, crash.
The waves kept lapping at the shore.
Such positive, good news—something he had dreamed of for so long was finally happening, everything so perfect it didn't seem real.
However, he had no one to share it with.
Suddenly, Brad was at a loss, staring blankly ahead—
Things seemed different from what he had imagined. So, is this what he truly wanted?
...
"Mr. Wood."
Over there, Noah was standing at the entrance to the garden in the hall, calling out.
"Mr. Slimane is here."
Then Noah looked at Eddie Slimane. "Soda water, two ice cubes, right?"
Eddie nodded slightly, standing at the garden entrance, glancing back at the hall and admiring it. "The taste here is completely different."
Today, the person Anson had been waiting for was Eddie, but Brad's unexpected arrival disrupted the plans. So much so that when the real guest arrived, Anson still hadn't fully recovered.
Turning around, looking at Eddie, Anson took a deep breath and smiled. "Eddie, so are you implying my usual taste isn't good?"
Eddie shook his head. "No, I'm just impressed. Now I finally know where your taste comes from. But the point is, fashion sense and decor taste don't necessarily go hand in hand. Otherwise, it would be too unfair of God, wouldn't it?"
Anson pursed his lips slightly. "So, in the end, you still think I don't have such taste."
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