Chapter 10: A Record and Video Store
West Hollywood, Aaron's apartment.
Nicole Kidman arrived early in the morning and knocked on the door.
"What's the matter? Why not just call me?" Aaron, still half-asleep, let her in.
"I'll wash up. There are drinks in the fridge. Want coffee? Make it yourself…"
Nicole paused. Was this really how he treated guests? She opened her mouth to protest, but he had already gone into the bathroom.
Over ten minutes later, Aaron emerged, freshly washed, and faced her. "Alright, what's so urgent that you're here this early?"
Nicole rubbed her forehead. "The screening… you invited me, remember? Warner Bros. is holding a pre-release event for Dead Calm."
"That's in the evening. It's still early," Aaron glanced at her. "Could you not doubt my professionalism?"
Nicole sighed. "It's been over half a month since you signed me, and you haven't even checked in on my career!"
It wasn't just Nicole—Steven Soderbergh was in the same boat. Aaron didn't bother with them unless there was something important. After all, both were newcomers with few activities.
Aaron shook his head, went into his study, and returned with a few pages of paper. "This is a romantic comedy Disney is preparing. I like the story, and I'm trying to figure out how to make it happen."
Nicole took the pages, examining them. "This isn't a script, is it?"
"Not a complete one. Disney wouldn't approve an unpolished script. It'll need revisions," Aaron shook his head. Hollywood was fiercely competitive—female leads needed connections, or they'd be overlooked.
"I heard you bought a script yourself," Nicole's eyes glinted. Though she was currently invisible in the industry, if it was her agent's project, could the female lead really slip away?
"That's for me to develop later. Right now, I have no resources."
Aaron was still a newcomer with little reputation. But once Soderbergh's Sex, Lies, and Videotape made waves at Cannes, Aaron's name would certainly gain traction in the industry.
"So… can you help me get an audition for this project?" Nicole held up the pages.
Aaron nodded. "Absolutely. I've been researching this project. Don't worry."
"Come on, let's grab some food. Also, I'm taking you to get a makeover."
Aaron simply couldn't tolerate Nicole's curly, frizzy hairstyle any longer.
"Is my hair ugly?" she asked.
"Yeah… it doesn't match your face or figure."
"Aaron, you've got great potential. Why don't you focus on becoming actor instead?"
"I can't stand the pressure…" he muttered.
By noon, Aaron brought Nicole to a salon. After explaining her styling preferences, he prepared to step out.
"Nicole, you start with your hair. I'll come back to pick you up later."
"Okay…"
Aaron exited the salon and noticed a small record and video store nearby. Curious, he went inside.
These stores mainly sold or rented movie VHS tapes, LaserDiscs, music on vinyl, CDs, and cassette tapes. The selection was modest, both for films and music.
"Huh…" Aaron suddenly heard a television playing near the counter. He walked over to take a look.
A Hong Kong kung fu film played on the TV as a young man with a strikingly distinctive face stared at the screen intently.
"Hey, sir, do you need any help?" A voice called out. Someone behind the counter had noticed him and stood up to greet the customer, still mindful of their duties.
Aaron blinked. That face… abstract as ever. Quentin Tarantino? Only, this Quentin was not even thirty yet—and honestly, not exactly handsome.
"This is an old-school Hong Kong kung fu flick. Didn't expect Americans to like it," Aaron said with a smile, gesturing toward the VHS tape playing on the TV.
"Yeah, I really like it! This is a Shaw Brothers film from Hong Kong. I love the macho energy, the raw punches flying on screen!"
Aaron nodded. "Not bad. Right now, Hollywood dominates film exports, and Hong Kong comes in second. And keep in mind, Hong Kong has just six million people."
Hollywood churned out roughly 400–500 films a year, with about half making it into theaters.
"Oh, so you know your Hong Kong cinema?"
"Enough to get by," Aaron said, extending his hand. "Aaron Anderson, agent at CAA."
The other man paused. "You're a CAA agent?"
They shook hands. "Hi, I'm Quentin Tarantino. A fellow film enthusiast."
"Yeah, I can tell. Working at a video store lets you watch films all day. Not a bad choice," Aaron said, assessing him. Smart career move.
"Um…" Quentin Tarantino looked a bit embarrassed. "You agents… you can also promote scripts, right?"
"Of course. Two months ago, I promoted a film at the Sundance Film Festival for a newcomer director—Sex, Lies, and Videotape. It's going to Cannes in May. Keep an eye out!" Aaron said casually.
"Oh… well, I've made short films before and even drafted some scripts. Want to take a look?"
"You write scripts?" Aaron glanced at him deliberately.
Quentin nodded. "I've drafted two scripts. Want to see them?"
"Sure." Aaron handed him a business card. "Once they're ready, call me and show me. I'll help promote them."
"And maybe, if things go well, you could even sign with me. Promoting the script doesn't mean I couldn't support you as a director later on."
Quentin nodded eagerly, beaming. "Next month, I'll have both scripts ready and will show them to you. My dream is to make films—the kind I want to see made!"
"Everyone needs a dream," Aaron said, patting him on the shoulder. "Check out my news coverage from this year's Sundance Festival. My name should be mentioned in the papers."
"Just helping me promote the scripts is already amazing," Quentin said, accompanying Aaron to the door.
"See you! Prepare your scripts well, and I'll support you as a director," Aaron waved.
"Bye!" Quentin Tarantino practically buzzed with excitement.
Leaving the store, Aaron pinched his own cheek. One Nicole Kidman… one Quentin Tarantino.
Was luck finally turning his way?