If someone claimed this entire scenario was meticulously arranged by Darren for Anson, David would be the first to scoff—
Absolutely unnecessary.
Truly, there was no need.
This was just a guest role in a TV series, not an audition for the male lead in Titanic. Even if Anson were expressionless, as long as he wasn't outright repulsive, it wouldn't matter.
Besides, with Darren's backing, securing a role based on looks alone would be effortless.
An audition?
Just a formality.
Even David's sudden interest had been entirely spontaneous—a 100% accident. He'd had zero expectations but ended up with 200% surprise.
"So… that was your audition performance?" David studied Anson carefully.
Anson felt uncertain—
This was his first time performing for someone else, and the vulnerability left him both exhilarated and awkward.
Unconsciously, he couldn't help but feel anticipation.
Meeting David's gaze, Anson masked his emotions and quipped, "Or did I need to sing? I could try to find the right key now."
"Hah." A glint of appreciation flashed in David's eyes. "So, your parents…?"
"Oh, no, they didn't divorce. I won't judge their marriage, but at least for now, they're still together." That was the truth.
Though before his transmigration, Anson's parents had divorced—during his college entrance exams. They'd told him, "It's not your fault."
David didn't know that. What he'd seen was a performance so convincing it blurred reality. His curiosity piqued, he probed further.
"But why didn't you choose a classic scene?" David asked bluntly.
Anson spread his hands. "I know my limits. I'm not Jack Nicholson or Robert De Niro. And the role we're discussing isn't One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest either."
"Hah." David laughed again, nodding faintly without realizing it—
Many actors thought auditions tested acting skills. In reality, most of the time, they tested presence and adaptability. Occasionally, they tested the agent's connections. Only a fraction evaluated fundamentals—after all, casting directors weren't acting coaches.
David gave Anson a long look. "Is there a role you'd like to try?"
Anson's smile deepened. "The most exciting part of acting is exploring possibilities—ventures real life can't offer. So why shackle this profession with constraints, don't you think?"
A humble admission of having no right to choose, yet wrapped in such lofty rhetoric—and somehow, it wasn't off-putting.
"Hahaha!" David laughed heartily. "Young man, you've got guts. This old man is downright envious. Alright, let's explore what an actor can do."
The audition was over.
An unnecessary audition had stretched to twenty-five minutes—far beyond David's expectations.
After the performance, they exchanged pleasantries. Anson's wit left a lasting impression; it was hard to believe he was only eighteen.
As he watched Anson's retreating figure, an idea sprouted in David's mind, growing rapidly—
Ring. Ring ring ring.
His personal phone buzzed on the desk, interrupting his thoughts. He glanced at the caller ID to decide whether to answer—then saw the familiar name and grinned.
"Hey, Darren, calling to check up? Worried I'd bully the kid?"
It was Darren Star on the other end, his voice equal parts exasperated and resigned. "Yes, I'm worried you scared him off."
David: ???
Darren sighed. "I just asked you to give him a small role—a couple of lines, a bit of screen time. That's enough. The kid's never acted before. Throwing him into a big role right away would add unnecessary pressure. What then?"
David was equally helpless. "Darren—"
Darren cut him off. "A minor role doesn't even need an audition—just a word from you. But it's been all morning with no updates from either of you. Old man, be honest—what scheme are you cooking up now? His parents aren't nobodies. Don't mess around."
David would've loved to tease his friend further, but he worried about Darren's blood pressure. "Darren, Anson's good."
Darren paused. "Huh?"
David couldn't contain his excitement. "I mean, he's really good."
"At first, I thought like you—give him a small role, let him ease into the camera and set environment. We can figure out the rest later. Even Leonardo DiCaprio started with a minor role in Growing Pains."
"But."
As he spoke, David grew animated—
"Darren, I have a bold idea."
"What if Anson guest-stars in an episode of Friends—paired with Jennifer? What do you think?"
Lean into the mistake—that was David's thought process.
Since the writing team had already derailed, crafting an episode centered around a young guest star, backtracking now would be a nightmare. But he also didn't want to haggle with Bruce Willis' agent. Why not just cast Anson instead?
This way, everything simplified. All problems solved.
Sometimes, going with the flow yielded unexpectedly brilliant results—
Even if David didn't say it aloud, Hollywood could sense the pressure on his shoulders. Friends' seventh-season ratings still dominated, but their lead was shrinking rapidly.
NBC's Will & Grace, Frasier, The West Wing, Law & Order, ER—all were climbing. Not to mention competing shows from other networks. Friends' position as the flagship was precarious.
For any TV series, crossing the 100-episode mark (usually by Season 5) often led to a slump—and cancellation risks.
The reason? After 100 episodes, shows could syndicate reruns to other platforms. At the same time, creative stagnation set in. Naturally, both the creators and the network's perspectives shifted.
Friends was no exception.
Not long ago, after the winter hiatus, David had met with NBC executives to discuss the show's future—especially with Season 7 approaching.
For the first time ever, the network brass hinted, "If the show lacks vitality, maybe it's time to consider an ending. Rather than dragging on, why not plan a dignified finale?"
Of course, this didn't mean NBC was ready to axe its crown jewel—they'd be reluctant. But the thought had surfaced.
Moreover, NBC was at its peak, with a thriving lineup.
So David wondered—
Maybe taking an unconventional route would yield surprising results?