Though she'd pinned high hopes on the Chicago audition, Jenny wasn't so arrogant as to assume victory was guaranteed. Moreover, her pride and self-respect wouldn't allow her to change her expression the moment she realized she'd failed. So when Lucy Liu greeted her, Jenny forced a smile. "Looks like our bet has already been settled." "
"Yes, but the lunch invitation still stands," Lucy smiled. "After all, we haven't settled the stakes yet."
They went to lunch, and among all the social meals Jenny had ever attended, this one was the most pleasant. They both ordered salads. Lucy Liu had an extra bowl of clear soup, while Jenny stuck to water. This made the entire meal less agonizing—at least Jenny knew her companion across the table was also enduring hunger, resisting the temptation of the delicious food.
As a second-generation immigrant born in Queens, New York, Lucy Liu's personality was actually quite American—cheerful and smiling, not the cool, mysterious persona she projected on screen. Yet, due to her parents' influence, traces of Asian culture still lingered in her character. Perhaps because of this, the two hit it off. Jenny didn't shy away from discussing her current financial struggles: "After this audition fell through, I figured I could focus on walking more dogs."
Liu Yuling shared her own hardships from the 90s: "I tasted poverty early on. At 14, my brother and I worked in an underground sweatshop. The fumes nearly made me cry. That day, I vowed I'd succeed. But that day never came at 18, or after college, or even ten years later at 24."
She shrugged. "At 22, I started getting small roles in movies. I thought that was my big break. But you know what? For the next seven years, I couldn't support myself through acting." It wasn't until I was 29 that I landed the role in Pretty Woman, which finally launched my career. During that time, I asked myself countless times, 'Can Asians survive in Hollywood? Can I compete? If Hollywood has 2,000 roles each year, maybe 1,400 are for white actresses. Black and Latina actresses fight over the remaining 500. The ones left for Asians? Not even 100, and most are minor roles. Could I keep going?"
"But you did persevere." Jenny knew full well she had persevered. Remarkably, over those seven years, her acting skills had grown significantly—enough to carry a major production like Charlie's Angels. And while her path hadn't gotten any wider, Lucy Liu had carved out her own niche in Hollywood.
"Yes, I stuck it out," Lucy shrugged. "It wasn't easy. Even now, I often can't believe I'm actually famous. That life from the past thirty years is truly behind me."
She didn't mention the recent audition, but Jenny understood what Lucy meant. Over those seven years, Lucy must have faced countless failed auditions. Jenny, on the other hand, had only been in the industry for a few months and already landed a decent role. What was one failed audition?
"What was the first thing you bought yourself after getting paid?" she asked curiously.
Lucy burst out laughing. "Oh, that's such a funny question. Honestly, in my twenties, I fantasized countless times about buying an entire floor of Macy's if I ever made it big. But when I actually got that check, my Asian side kicked in. As a teenager, I hated my mother's extreme frugality—it felt so cheap. But when I held that big check, her voice echoed in my ears, as if she were right there telling me, 'Never neglect thrift; small savings make a fortune.' So the answer is—I didn't buy anything. I saved every penny."
Jenny laughed along with her. They enjoyed the meal immensely, and by the end, they'd settled on a bet: once Jenny landed her first movie role, she'd treat Lucy to dinner. They exchanged phone numbers, promising to stay in touch. In Hollywood, that meant they were each a valuable connection for the other.
Lucy never mentioned Cesare once, which suited Jenny just fine. Though she knew full well that Lucy Liu'd likely noticed her and been so friendly because of Cesare Viglieri, there was no need to dwell on it. Lucy'd been perfectly gracious, and that was enough.
...
"Seriously, what do you think about me taking on a few more dog-walking gigs?" Jenny blurted out the moment she picked up the phone.
There was a pause on the other end before Cesare replied, "Are you sure this is how you want to open our first call? Sure, it might make great material for your memoir, but isn't it a bit too dramatic?"
"Should I try a different approach?" Jenny adjusted her tone, sounding pitiful and on the verge of tears. "Oh, Cesare, I'm so sorry, but everything's ruined. The studio clearly has Lucy Liu lined up. I'm out—"
She switched back to her normal voice. "Is that better?"
"Pre-selected?" Cesare raised his voice slightly. "Describe the situation in detail."
After Jenny recounted it, Cesare said only, "Got it. I'll call you back in fifteen minutes."
He called back exactly fifteen minutes later. "I've pieced it together. It's a disagreement between the producer and Rob. The producer wants an all-star effect. He thinks you're not big enough, and he personally likes Lucy Liu and wants to work with her. Of course, Renée Zellweger's agent also weighed in. She's very involved in the casting."
"I didn't realize actors had a say in the cast, especially when I'm such a minor supporting role?" Jenny was taken aback.
"Honey," Cesare said, though his tone held no sweetness. "Your screen debut has a great line: 'In this business, the most important thing is to be meticulous.' You know, Zykow's father is German with Swiss roots, and her mother is Norwegian. Like you, she's a German-American born in the U.S., and you both have blonde hair. If I were in her shoes, I'd push for Lucy Liu over you for this role too."
"I see," Jenny said. "Consistent positioning, right? And I'm younger and prettier than Renée."
"Exactly. Renée's acting is superb, but she's not known for her looks. Her agent is friends with the producer. She's starred in three comedies over the past three years, each a box office hit. She's a talented actress with awards to her name, while Rob's just a first-time director." Cesare said. Plus, you're far more attractive than her. All these factors led to the current situation. The producer believes casting Liu would add diversity—we already have an American white actor, a black actor, an Eastern European actor, and the other lead, Jones, is British. Adding an Asian actor would be ideal, right? At least that's the plausible reason he gave."
"So you're explaining why I didn't get the role?" " Jenny asked.
"No," Cesare replied. "I just want you to be more convinced that I'm a very capable agent."
"You mean...?" Jenny was a bit confused. "You're not going to say what I think you're going to say, are you?"
"You already got the role," Cesare said. "At least that's what Rob told me."
"...Can you elaborate?" Jenny inquired. "How did you—"
Though she knew Cesare was playing hard to get, she felt a bit dizzy now.
"I assume you're at least familiar with the plot of Chicago," Cesare said. "Your character must threaten Roxie on every level for her to resort to the pregnancy ploy. With such limited screen time, who would be more convincing? You—a stunning blonde with the exact same positioning as Roxie, even more captivating than her—or Lucy Liu? This role isn't about acting skill; it's about appearance and presence. Rob also believes you're a better fit than Lucy. Plus, after watching CSI on my recommendation, he felt your style of performance would carry those few minutes perfectly."
No wonder Jim acted so mysterious back then—it seems this role was practically hers before the audition even began. Viewed this way, the director's complete control over the process makes sense in another light—he'd already noticed Jenny and knew exactly what qualities he wanted to find in her. Once he decided she passed muster, there was no need to waste any more time.
"But what about the producers?" Jenny paused. "Oh, I imagine the director must have been fed up with the power dynamics between producers and actors for a while now? Of course, directing his first film with two Best Supporting Actress nominees—"
At that thought—neither actress had won Oscars yet—Jenny changed her tone mid-sentence. "Two major stars collaborating, and the production company being the renowned Weinstein. I imagine Rob must have endured a lot of pressure."
"And he cared deeply about this film, paying such close attention to casting even minor roles," Cesare interjected. "He even got personally involved—you could easily see Rob was a very controlling person."
"Yes, I see." Jenny switched the hot phone to her other ear. "Choosing me was Rob's way of pushing back. Do you think he'll succeed?"
"It wasn't Weinstein who admired Lucy Liu, but his executives," Cesare said. "Weinstein admired Rob. I think the outcome should be pretty certain."
"Then I'll start preparing for the role now," Jenny said.
"Your acting is more than sufficient for that part." Cesare's tone carried a hint of weariness, though not directed at Jenny—more like irritation with this overly enthusiastic approach. "I'll arrange more classes for your next audition. Just focus on attending them."
"Yes—wait, hold on! Which movie is it?!" Sensing Cesare was about to hang up, Jenny pressed urgently.
"You'll find out when the time is right." Cesare was indeed preparing to end the call.
Jenny could only call out, "Alright, thank you. Goodbye."
"Jefferson?" Cesare didn't hang up after all. He continued, "Let me reiterate: Rob is a very controlling person."
"I know," Jenny replied.
"I have high hopes for him."
"I know."
"Then you know how to handle him on set?" Cesare asked.
Jenny sighed. "Trust me, I know."
"Good." This time Cesare truly intended to end the call. "Oh, and next time you call me—"
He drew out the syllables. "Please don't start with such a loser opening line. Thanks."
Click. The phone hung up.
Jenny stared at the receiver for a long moment before turning to her tasks: she hadn't exercised properly in ages, and now that she'd landed the role, getting in shape was essential.
Jumping through her workout routine, she replayed today's dramatic twists and turns, arriving at several conclusions: 1. Hollywood competition is brutally fierce, and the power games are incredibly complex.
2. Cesare Viglieri is exceptionally talented.
Though hard to believe, his persuasive skills might genuinely be outstanding. While Rob Marshall likely thought she was better suited for the role, without Cesare's relentless advocacy, the chance he'd risk upsetting the studio and leading lady over such a minor part seemed slim to Jenny. Cesare didn't specify his exact role, but Jenny could imagine the work he'd done.
Fuck, Cesare Viglieri was just too good. He was so good that for the first time, Jenny felt that under his plan, dominating Hollywood might not just be a dream, but a tangible goal.
Two days later, Lucy Liu texted her: Looks like we were both wrong. Find some time for me so I can collect on our bet.
At the end of the message, she added a smiley face and XOXO hug symbols.