Ethan Sullivan was questioned about his comprehension and Chinese grades for the first time in his life. He paused and asked, “What if, after seeing you, he regrets casting you as the male lead?”

“What do you mean by that?” John Brooks frowned, a bit aggrieved in his anger. “Hey, you! You ignored me last night, and now you’re saying things like this. Are you mad because I sat in your Porsche by mistake? I already got out, didn’t I? Or is it because I drank your Perrier? Just wait, I’ll buy you a whole case tomorrow.”

He didn’t wait for Ethan Sullivan to respond, suddenly realizing, “I get it, are you jealous of me?”

Ethan Sullivan listened attentively. “What would I be jealous of?”

John Brooks said, “Jealous that I’m the male lead.”

They’d run into each other three times, and he’d emphasized “male lead” about eight hundred times. Ethan Sullivan recalled John Brooks asking him who he was playing. Since this young actor was dead set on treating him as a fellow cast member, he deliberately said, “What if I’m a special guest star?”

“Yeah, right.” John Brooks replied confidently, “I’ve seen the actors’ profiles—your name’s not there, let alone as a guest star. It’s fine to just have a bit part, nothing to be embarrassed about. Since you can ride in the director’s Porsche, you must have some connections. I guess you won’t be stuck as a D-lister for long.”

Ethan Sullivan couldn’t hold back anymore. “Actually—”

John Brooks cut him off. “Actually, when you didn’t join the script reading today, I already guessed how big your part is.”

Ethan Sullivan said, “The director invited me, but I declined.”

“Yeah, keep bragging.”

Ethan Sullivan hinted, “The purpose of the reading is to digest the script. I’ve already digested it completely, so there was no need for me to attend.”

John Brooks burst out laughing. “You’re something else. Even the director wouldn’t dare say he’s digested it, but you have? What kind of stomach do you have?”

“I—”

“Why don’t you just say you’re Head Screenwriter Sullivan?”

Ethan Sullivan’s brow twitched slightly. He pulled out a tissue and carefully wiped the water from between his fingers. “Don’t I look like a screenwriter?”

As he finished speaking, out of the corner of his eye, he saw John Brooks turn around to face him, stepping forward until only two fists’ distance remained between them. He could smell the fresh citrus scent of John Brooks’s cologne, though it was somewhat overpowered by the fragrance of hand cream.

Ethan Sullivan turned his head slightly, tilting his face up to meet John Brooks’s gaze as he looked down.

With a serious expression, John Brooks asked him, “Do I look like a Best Actor to you?”

Ethan Sullivan: “……”

After saying that, John Brooks glanced away at Ethan Sullivan’s watch. Unknowingly, a quarter of an hour had passed. He stepped back to his original spot and said, “If we keep chatting, the party will really be over. Are you done washing up? Want to go together?”

Ethan Sullivan replied, “You go ahead. After all, you’re the male lead.”

“True, I’ll head out first then.”

Once John Brooks left, the dressing room fell completely silent. Ethan Sullivan picked up the hand cream John Brooks had used and squeezed out a little.

He applied it slowly and methodically, feeling his heart beating steadily in his chest, inexplicably relaxed.

In the banquet hall, John Brooks arrived fashionably late.

The spacious hall was divided into semi-open small spaces by folding screens, each table set beneath a gilded brass lamp. Vases of delphiniums adorned the tables, crimson carpet underfoot, the warm yellow light dimly illuminating the red patterns and deep blue petals, creating a rich, saturated scene.

By the windows was a row of daybeds. Actresses in floor-length gowns and actors in suits sat in small groups, arms draped over each other’s shoulders, the city’s night sky as their backdrop.

Jason Wright was getting anxious. “Come on, what took you so long?”

John Brooks took a glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray, took a sip, and said, “Ran into someone, chatted for a bit.”

“Who?”

John Brooks paused—he’d forgotten to ask that guy’s name. “The one with the Porsche.”

Jason Wright asked curiously, “Weren’t you complaining this morning that he was all high and mighty? How come you’re chatting now?”

John Brooks replied with satisfaction, “This time, I turned the tables.”

Jason Wright said, “Enough talk, hurry up and greet the other actors.”

There weren’t too many roles in this production. The most famous was Teacher Emily Turner, who played the mother, Ye. She was forty-eight this year, with nearly thirty years in the industry, having worked at both state-owned film studios and the National Theatre. She’d won the Plum Blossom Award for Drama and the Golden Lion for Theatre. In her youth, she played debutantes and educated youths; as she got older, she acted less, only coming out for stories she liked.

The father was played by Teacher Brian Scott, a national first-class actor and a director of the China TV Association’s Actors’ Committee. Since his role was small, he was a special guest star.

The female lead in the drama was named Grace Baker, a very unique name, and she was just like her name—like a fairy. When Grace Baker debuted, her pure looks made her well-known to audiences. She later played a series of gentle characters, which became her signature but also her limitation.

John Brooks made the rounds, greeting everyone, but didn’t see the second male lead, Charles Reed.

He hadn’t seen him at the script reading either, so he asked a passing crew member, “Has Charles Reed joined the team yet?”

Little Michael said, “Charles Reed had an event abroad a couple of days ago. He was supposed to join on time, but his flight was canceled due to the weather, so he’ll be a day late.”

Having met almost all the actors, John Brooks walked to the window and sat down on a daybed to catch his breath. Drinking several glasses of champagne on an empty stomach didn’t feel great. He wanted to eat something, but worried he might reek of food later and offend the distinguished Editor Sullivan.

Meanwhile, the private room was filled with the scent of alcohol.