To avoid being too dull, Ethan Sullivan switched to a silver wristwatch, put it on, and left at the very last minute.

The launch banquet was held in the hotel’s banquet hall. With half an hour to go, John Brooks was getting ready in a temporarily booked room, dressed up, and chewing on mint throat lozenges like they were sunflower seeds.

When Jason Wright heard that Ethan Sullivan was coming to the crew, he was as excited as when he passed his graduate school entrance exam. He snatched the bottle away and said, “Stop eating those! What if you end up stinking up Teacher Sullivan?”

John Brooks replied, “How would I? It’s not like I’m going to kiss him.”

Jason Wright was taken aback: “Why would you even think about kissing a guy? That’s something I’d never imagine in my whole life.”

John Brooks was stumped by the question, feeling a bit regretful. Unable to answer, he could only change the subject, crossing his legs and pretending to be at ease. “Am I really going to meet Ethan Sullivan?”

“Of course.” Jason Wright beamed with happiness. “The essence of a banquet is to greet, network, and cozy up to the big shots. Ethan Sullivan attending is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for actors. People are fighting tooth and nail just for the chance to toast him.”

John Brooks wasn’t too confident: “But will he actually meet me?”

Jason Wright said, “Of course! You’re the male lead, the soul of the whole show. Teacher Sullivan wrote the script and is also an investor. Him coming all this way is like a leader’s inspection—if he doesn’t meet anyone, he’ll definitely meet you.”

John Brooks felt a surge of excitement. In the past, when he played minor roles, he was always ignored, and even after filming wrapped, the director couldn’t remember his name. But now, he was about to meet Ethan Sullivan, who knew a whole bunch of directors!

“You have to seize this opportunity,” Jason Wright encouraged. “You need to make Teacher Sullivan feel he made the right choice. If you win his appreciation, how could you possibly worry about your future?”

John Brooks asked excitedly, “Like what?”

Jason Wright answered, “Like, maybe you’ll get cast directly in Zeng Zhen’s next movie.”

John Brooks couldn’t imagine it: “I won’t win Best Actor at such a young age, will I?”

“Who could stop you?” Jason Wright pushed his glasses up forcefully. “When you win Best Actor, I’ll publish an autobiography as a gold-medal agent.”

Around 7:30, the launch banquet was about to begin. The waiters were busy but orderly, serving appetizers and drinks, while actors and crew members arrived one after another.

John Brooks had just finished hair and makeup and headed to the banquet hall, reading up on the other actors’ profiles as he walked.

At the launch banquet, the main activity among actors was chatting. To avoid awkward silences, Jason Wright would prepare a dossier for John Brooks, covering details like age, representative works, awards, marital status, and hobbies.

John Brooks looked down and muttered, “Wow, even liking broccoli is listed. Should I give her a stalk?”

Jason Wright said, “That’s so you know what dish to serve them.”

John Brooks curled his lip. “Don’t they have hands? I’m not a waiter. And this one—why list two divorces?”

Jason Wright whispered, “He’s a notorious playboy, loves to fool around. The two divorces were because he cheated too much and couldn’t cover it up anymore. Be careful—if he hints at hanging out or meeting up privately, just find a way to decline.”

John Brooks kept scrolling through the screen, but only remembered half of it. Impatient, he said, “Why is there so much? It’s longer than my family tree.”

Jason Wright coaxed, “When you played bit parts, did you ever need to greet anyone? After filming, you never even had a chance to get close to the leads. Now you’re the male lead, a rising star, and it’s only right to get to know them. You have to seize the opportunity.”

“As for why there are so many people,” Jason Wright paused, “it’s because you’re an 18th-tier actor. Tiers one through seventeen are ahead of you—if there weren’t a lot of people, that’d be strange.”

After the actors, there was a long list of directors, producers, and investors. These people were even more important. When you met them, you had to smile, bow, and flatter them sweetly—seriously for the authoritative types, artistically for the creative types, and with a bit of cheek for the rogue types.

John Brooks sighed, “Why do I feel like even as the male lead, I’m still at the bottom of the food chain?”

Jason Wright replied with a nugget of wisdom: “When you’re not famous, everyone around you is a boss. When you get famous, they’ll all be at the bottom.”

His earlier excitement cooled a bit. John Brooks glanced at the banquet hall a couple of steps away. The party had already started, and inside it was dazzling, but to him, it felt more like a struggling student heading into an exam—the closer he got, the more he wanted to run away.

Jason Wright urged, “Come on, let’s go in and greet Teacher Tao first.”

But John Brooks hesitated at the door: “I… need to use the restroom first.”

Under the night sky, the hotel’s front courtyard was ablaze with lights. A Porsche slowed down and smoothly stopped at the entrance. Director Thompson had been waiting for a while and came forward to personally open the car door.

Ethan Sullivan got out of the car, the fiery lights reflecting off his black suit like stars scattered across the night sky.

He was glad this wasn’t their first meeting; otherwise, if they shook hands, the other person would notice how sweaty his palms were.

All the way there, he’d hoped for a major traffic jam or a string of red lights, but the drive was smooth, and every time the driver said, “We’re almost there,” he’d get a little more nervous inside.

Entering the elevator, Director Thompson said, “Editor Sullivan, we’ve just been waiting for you.”

Ethan Sullivan replied, “I left late.”