Endeavor Talent Agency, established in 1995.
In terms of age, it was a rookie in the industry, but in terms of scale, it already ranked among the top five agencies.
However, all of this meant nothing to the three of them. In fact, such information only made them more confused.
Right now, they were reading fan letters. Endeavor wasn't even a natural person, so it couldn't possibly be a fan of Isabella, right? Then why was Endeavor's letter among the fan mail? What was going on?
"Was it misplaced?"
Isabella's first thought was that Endeavor had sent a business proposal, but Warner's staff had accidentally filed it with the fan letters.
But the next second, she shook her head. "No, it wasn't misplaced."
"If it's a business collaboration, why wouldn't they call Mom directly?"
Vivian had received many calls in recent days, most of them about collaboration opportunities concerning Isabella.
Although a phone call didn't carry the formality of a written offer, in business, time is money and efficiency is life. Nobody waited for messages to trickle through over centuries anymore.
So if Endeavor wanted to collaborate with her, they should have called her mother. But this…
"I haven't received any call from Endeavor."
Before Isabella could look at her, Vivian answered.
Isabella was even more puzzled. "Then is this a prank?"
"Shall we open it?"
Catherine, equally confused, was curious.
"I don't think so, just store it away," Vivian shook her head. "Isa, no matter why Endeavor contacted you, you don't need them right now, do you? So… if you're curious, don't look."
At this moment, Isabella indeed didn't need an agency, since she had little autonomy in her work.
Thus, when someone tried to be mysterious, not opening the letter could be the safest choice.
What if it wasn't Endeavor, but someone else spying—or some other weird stuff? She could have gotten disgusted for nothing.
Just as Isabella thought she was right and prepared to toss the letter aside, a voice suddenly came—
"What's going on with you today? What kind of letter is keeping you busy for so long?"
Columbus popped his head over.
Kids reading letters while eating had already become a charming scene in the cafeteria.
So he wasn't surprised to see Catherine reading, but he was curious about Isabella's unusually slow pace.
Usually, Isabella finished quickly—she had filming in the afternoon and wouldn't let personal matters get in the way.
But today, she had stopped?
"Oh, that's because Isa got a very strange letter."
Catherine held up the envelope and explained the situation.
Seeing the full picture, Columbus blinked. He had never seen this before.
"Want to open it?"
He was intrigued too.
"Then open it."
With Columbus's encouragement, Isabella didn't hesitate.
With a rustle, an A4 sheet folded into thirds appeared before them.
Unfolded, it contained the sender's intention.
It wasn't handwritten—it was printed.
Few words, but significant content.
The letter started with greetings, then congratulations, followed by Endeavor stating their purpose: they wanted to discuss collaboration with Isabella—not for an agency contract, but for a film project invitation.
Honestly, when this became clear, the entire Haywood family fell silent.
Endeavor's approach was so abstract.
Never mind whether it was reasonable for an agency to propose a film project—mixing a collaboration invite in with fan mail… Catherine saw the letter today; if she hadn't, it would have gone to the storage shelf, possibly never to be opened. The most likely scenario? It would never see the light of day.
"This… is interesting…"
Even Columbus, with his broad experience, had never seen this.
He shook the letter in his hand and looked at Isabella. "Do you want to figure out what's going on?"
"Maybe I didn't want to before opening it, but now… is it convenient?"
Isabella made it clear—she wanted Columbus's help.
"For a phone call? Of course it's convenient."
Since Isabella wanted to solve the mystery, Columbus, equally curious, didn't hesitate.
He pulled out his phone, dialed, and within ten seconds it connected. Then—
"Hi Ali, good afternoon…"
"Yeah~ I'm in the UK, time difference… I'm calling mainly to ask about something…"
The "Ali" Columbus referred to was Ali Emmanuel, the founder of Endeavor Talent Agency.
Although Columbus hadn't personally met Rowling last year, it wasn't due to lack of ability—Rowling had the UK government behind her. Without that factor, Columbus was a power player in the Western entertainment world.
Disagree?
Go argue with my FBI… uh, I mean, my billions in box office revenue!
Years ago, Columbus's solo projects were considered major assets. For agencies trying to win big clients, he was practically a godfather figure.
Thus, within five minutes, the truth emerged:
Endeavor indeed had a project targeting girls aged 6–12, a concept they acquired in July. For months, they couldn't find the right talent—until Harry Potter released.
Isabella's performance in Harry Potter excited them—they immediately felt she was perfect for the role. But internally, Endeavor disagreed on how to issue the invitation.
One faction wanted to communicate with Isabella. The other faction thought it was unnecessary.
The first group's goal was clear—they wanted Isabella to star.
The opposing side argued it was a waste of time. When Isabella was filming HP, she wouldn't have time for their project and likely wouldn't choose it.
After all, what project could compete with HP?
The strongest voice in the opposing faction was Ali Emmanuel, Endeavor's founder. So the invitation was suppressed. But the most capable partner, Patrick Whitesell, was still part of the inviting team.
Patrick had joined Endeavor this year but had been head of talent at CAA.
And he didn't come empty-handed—all the contracts of Ben Affleck, Christian Bale, Matt Damon, Hugh Jackman, and Jude Law came with him from CAA.
So…
"Ali didn't want Patrick contacting you, but Patrick wanted to try."
"Since he wanted to save face with Ali, and he heard your mom rejected all collaboration attempts, he figured you wouldn't hear them anyway, so he used this method to communicate."
"How he ensured the letter reached you…"
"No need to explain, right?"
Columbus winked at Isabella.
She nodded.
Leavesden's security was strict, but that was mostly outward-facing. When Patrick Whitesell was an insider, having a trusted contact slip the collaboration letter among Isabella's daily fan mail was easy.
After all, the letters Catherine received were inspected by Leavesden staff.
Using letters as a "delivery method" was common in the West; Warner would never let them open it unchecked.
Even with reasonable explanations, their methods were still abstract.
Catherine, still curious, asked: "Director, isn't Endeavor an agency?"
"Why do they have film projects?"
Isabella perked up—she was curious too.
"Oh, that's because Hollywood has developed a standardized industrial system for film production."
Columbus explained with a smile: "In Hollywood, nearly every profession can sign with an agency. So when an agency signs a director, if the director has a project and needs the agency to find investors or actors, that's logical."
Western agencies are different from those in China, which usually only sign artists and find projects or endorsements. Western agencies focus on resource integration.
Sign a director and talent? Then when the director has a project, you can directly use your own people. Two birds, one stone.
And if I also have top-tier screenwriters?
Okay! I can run a solo project.
Simply put, the ideal form of a Western agency is production monopoly.
Be your own studio.
But reality is harsh.
The only one consistently producing top-quality projects for a decade is Steven Spielberg.
Agencies lacking ongoing "dream-making" capability could never rival traditional studios—they'd at best be troublemakers in the industry.
"Oh~" Catherine understood.
Isabella also showed comprehension.
Columbus's explanation reminded her of the famous packaging services in the previous life—CAA's approach.
After clearing Catherine's doubts, Columbus looked at Isabella and said, "Do you want to see Endeavor's project? I'm not asking you to accept it, but Ali just told me that since you know about this, he wants you to see it. And… he asked me to help pass it along."
The half-hearted recommendation made Isabella smile.
Columbus was telling her: you don't need to be polite to these people. Even if you don't look at it, none of them would dare blame me. But Endeavor's strange handling actually made Isabella curious about the project.
Because at this point, she didn't know what her future held.
She was famous now.
But after fame?
What would she do?
She didn't know.
Originally, she thought Harry Potter's eight films would give her time to explore her future. But the invitations came before she could explore—wasn't that good?
So…
"Director, can you help me?"
"Help with what?"
"After the project arrives, help me take a look. I don't understand these things."
"Isa, in principle this isn't standard procedure; Endeavor didn't invite me…"
"But pretty girls always have privileges, right?"
Isabella winked at Columbus.
Her cute pose made him laugh and groan at the same time.
Glancing at his watch, he waved: "Go rest. We have filming at 1:30."
"Okay~"
Isabella grabbed her sister and ran.
Vivian, trailing behind, thanked Columbus.
Seeing their bouncy departure, Columbus raised an eyebrow and immediately handed Endeavor's invitation to his assistant.
"Follow up on this. And if Ali or Patrick don't come, just say we don't have time, okay?"
The assistant nodded.
Columbus's point was clear: if Endeavor thought their project was truly good, let the partners come in person.
If they only sent subordinates, then all they could do was say goodbye.
After all… the two sides weren't on the same level, and their time was precious. Their primary focus was on doing well with Chamber of Secrets.
Whether Endeavor had confidence in their project—or whether these people were trying a roundabout way to sign Isabella—no one could say.
In any case, shortly after Columbus called back, the next afternoon Patrick Whitesell flew from Los Angeles to London. At the time, everyone was filming, so he quietly waited on the sidelines.
He only made his formal appearance after filming wrapped and greeted Isabella and the others.
He exchanged greetings with Columbus and complimented Isabella and the team on their performance.
Although there was no evening shoot, everyone stayed on set, and after giving him dinner in the cafeteria, Columbus led him to his office—of course, Isabella's family accompanied him.
Since everyone was busy, the discussion was efficient. Before anyone even sat down, Whitesell pulled out the project. Soon, a script with only the author's name appeared in front of everyone: Written by: Michael Arndt
Columbus squinted at the name.
Tapping the table with his index finger, he said, "Is this Matthew Broderick's guy?"
"Uh… Yeah—"
Whitesell paused, then nodded.
"Oh~ I think I understand why Ali didn't want you to contact Isa."
Columbus explained, "He probably thought that if I saw this script, I'd likely help Isa reject it immediately?"
"Hahaha—"
Whitesell smiled awkwardly but politely.
The cryptic dialogue left Isabella and the others confused.
Leaning back in his chair, Columbus laughed and clarified, "Matthew Broderick played Ferris Bueller in Ferris Bueller's Day Off, John Hughes' Ferris Bueller's Day Off."
"And this guy here is his man."
Columbus shook the script in his hand.
"..."
Ah… so in the end, it really was rivals reunited!
Isabella understood.
The conflict between John Hughes and Chris Columbus had been mentioned before. Matthew Broderick was the star Hughes had personally promoted.
After Broderick became famous, he built a personal team as any star would and hired Michael Arndt as his private assistant.
And that Michael Arndt was the scriptwriter Isabella now saw.
Normally, these details would be unknown even to Hollywood insiders.
You know the star—I know you, fine. But your assistant? How would I know that! Only real grudges lead to remembering such things.
As for why Matthew Broderick had crossed Chris Columbus, there was certainly Hughes' influence, but the bigger culprit was Disney's tyrant, Michael Eisner.
Yes, the real feud started with Disney's internal struggle eight years prior.
From 1993, Eisner wanted to oust Katzenberg from Disney.
Once he started, he stripped Katzenberg of all authority within the company.
This left Katzenberg unable to manage Disney's animation project The Lion King.
Katzenberg originally wanted his people to voice the film. The first choice was Tom Hanks, a friend of Robert Zemeckis.
That year Hanks also had Forrest Gump—they were aiming for a live-action/animation double triumph.
But after Eisner's meddling, adult Simba's voice went to Matthew Broderick.
Although Katzenberg also had conflicts with Spielberg, DreamWorks was still operating, so Columbus had to remember this as a fellow trenchmate; otherwise, Spielberg's mentorship would have been wasted.
Of course, Michael Arndt wasn't ordinary either. He graduated top of his class from NYU Tisch School of the Arts and had been noticed by Martin Scorsese, a friend of Steven Spielberg.
Chris Columbus also came from there—essentially his senior.
"Wow… what a mess…"
Isabella felt her embarrassment flare.
A simple collaboration already implies grudges? Was it bad luck for her, or did these people just have too many enemies?
Thinking she was still under Rowling… Isabella almost wanted to throw the script away! Let anyone read it they want!
However, after a brief laugh, Columbus stopped pressing Whitesell and began reviewing the script.
The content wasn't long—less than a hundred pages.
A casual reader might take an hour to skim it, but professionals don't read scripts in detail.
According to Hollywood production formulas, they just check whether the writer included key plot turning points to gauge the project's quality. Columbus shook his head…
"Oh—your script is too flat—"
After checking the key points, Columbus shook his head. "Pat, Isa invited me to review the project, so all my evaluations will be neutral."
"Your script is mediocre. From a production perspective, there's almost no suspense to keep the audience engaged. In fact, the first twenty minutes give viewers no anticipation."
"So, Isa, I don't recommend you take this project."
"No amount of money is worth it."
"Doing this project would waste reputation and time."
He raised the script in his hand and said to Whitesell, "I even doubt you've secured investors for this project. I can't imagine a studio wanting to fund it."
"So, you're trying to get Isabella to attach her name and help attract investment?"
"..."
Whitesell pressed his lips together, embarrassed.
Columbus saw through it.
Indeed, no one had invested in the script they brought, and asking Isabella was only to smooth the project's progression.
Why they wanted to control the project…
Endeavor's executives were all from CAA.
And the dream of CAA alumni?
Monopolize production.
Hollywood's waters are deep, but many are laid by the old foxes themselves. So once Columbus made things clear, Endeavor, Vivian, and Catherine all knew there was no need to negotiate.
However, when Whitesell got up to leave, Isabella decided to keep the script.
Everyone was surprised, but since outsiders were present, no one asked why.
They assumed she just wanted to read it like a novel.
The script was registered, so no risk of plagiarism—Whitesell let her have her way.
After Isabella thanked Columbus and took the script back to the dorm, she eagerly continued reading.
Leavesden's accommodations were like normal apartments.
A thousand square feet, three bedrooms, living room, kitchen, bathroom—plenty of private space.
Elbows on the desk, eyes scanning frantically, Isabella's lips gradually lifted.
Why?
Even without finishing, the opening already felt familiar.
It started like this—
The Hoover family lived in Maryland, six people in total:
Father: a motivational speaker with ambitions, but unsuccessful.
Mother: a housewife who hated mundane life.
Older brother: a nerd, loved Nietzsche, aimed for the Air Force, failed.
Uncle: an expert on the Proust effect, became mentally unstable, even attempted suicide.
Grandfather: a stubborn old man who liked arguing, otherwise ordinary.
Hoover: a little girl who wanted to be a star; her idol was Arnold Schwarzenegger, a beauty pageant star, so she wanted to be like him.
One day, Hoover learned about a national teen beauty pageant in Florida and wanted to participate.
After family debates, they decided to help her dream. Driving from Maryland to Florida, a story about an East Coast road trip unfolds…
The plot reminded Isabella of the movie Little Miss Sunshine.
Notes:
Many Endeavor partners came from CAA; founders like Ali Emmanuel jumped from CAA to ICM and then started their own agency.
In reality, Little Miss Sunshine was indeed first noticed by Endeavor before entering production, for the same reasons as written here—they had the dream. But it hasn't been realized yet.
The screenplay underwent over a hundred revisions; the simplified version here describes the initial road-trip concept, later adjusted due to budget, and its main plot is similar to American Pie style—focusing on six people's life stories with beauty pageant as a subplot.