Actor in Hollywood

The afternoon sun shone brightly, while the sound of the automatic sprinklers watering the lawn filled the air. Even though it was already October and autumn had quietly arrived, Los Angeles remained dry. The city hadn't seen a drop of rain in over four months, making the air feel almost like it was on the verge of catching fire.

No wonder there were still large crowds at Venice Beach.

Three weeks had passed since the audition in New York, and the Emmy Awards felt like a distant memory from another era. Life had settled back into a quieter routine.

After finishing the screen test, Anson stayed in New York for a full week. On one hand, Edgar needed time to follow up and gather information; on the other hand, Eve had arranged for Anson to attend a fashion party.

According to Eve, she hadn't arranged it herself—some big names in the fashion industry wanted to meet Anson, and the opportunity just arose, so she took it.

Every October, New York hosts a grand event:

New York Fashion Week.

Undoubtedly, that would be the real, important stage.

But Anson was still lacking in projects. Although Eve could have secured an invitation for him—she believed Dior would be thrilled to have Anson appear at their show—she was concerned that pushing too hard now might result in Anson being pigeonholed as just a model, which could harm his acting career.

There's a difference between being a pretty face and a model.

Hollywood welcomes pretty faces but is wary of models—at least, that was still the case in the year 2000.

So, Eve changed her mind. Instead of rushing Anson into the fashion world, she arranged for him to attend a private party, where he could mingle with the bigwigs and, ideally, catch the eye of Anna Wintour.

Eve suspected that Anna Wintour was already aware of Anson, but the timing wasn't right, so Anna hadn't made any moves yet.

No worries—Eve was patient.

After the party, Anson had dinner with producer Ian Bryce. There was no news yet from Sony Columbia; they still needed to discuss things internally and decide whether to audition other actors. So, Anson and Edgar returned to Los Angeles.

Anson returned, but James Franco stayed behind, lingering in New York for another two weeks.

Unfortunately, it was all for nothing.

Since Anson left New York, there had been no updates from Sony Columbia—no new auditions, no project progress, no internal rumors, nothing. James waited in New York in vain, without meeting anyone relevant, and the two weeks turned into pure torture.

This situation highlighted Edgar's precise judgment—

They needed to take a step back, hit pause, and collect their thoughts, so they could evaluate the project more objectively and rationally.

Edgar believed that after the screen test, a few actors had likely stood out, but none fit their original vision for the project. They needed time and space to reassess the information they had.

In this context, being too aggressive or impatient could backfire, causing them to lose their composure and ruin the advantage they had built.

This was why Edgar had brought Anson back to Los Angeles.

James's frustrating wait confirmed this point.

Three days ago, James finally returned to Los Angeles after waiting in New York for over a month, reminiscent of when Hayden auditioned for *Star Wars: Episode I*—with no definite answer in sight.

Being left hanging like this was not a pleasant experience.

James spent two days sulking at home before he couldn't take it any longer. Early this morning, he forced himself to go out, though who knows where.

And Anson?

He started working out, focusing on building his physical strength.

This audition experience made Anson realize that, while he had no intention of bulking up like Dwayne Johnson, it was definitely necessary to tone his muscles through other forms of exercise.

If he landed the role of "Spider-Man," he could expect a series of professional training sessions to follow. His current workouts were just laying the groundwork.

But even if he didn't get the role, it didn't matter. This was all part of broadening his acting range, ensuring that even as a pretty face, he could offer more versatility.

Anson couldn't remember exactly where he heard it, but he recalled an interview with an actor who said:

"Maintaining my appearance and physique is part of my job. So, I don't see training and working out as a burden—I can't take anything for granted."

Now, Anson finally understood what that meant—

So this is what it's like to make a living with your looks.

After finishing his workout, Anson pushed open the door to his house, thinking he'd be alone at this time. James was out, Hayden was training, and Chris was finally on set for his TV show. However, he was surprised to see Brad, who usually kept nocturnal hours, up early for once.

The scene resembled something out of *Twilight*, with Brad shining in the morning light like Edward Cullen.

"Shh."

Brad was on the phone and gestured for Anson to be quiet.

Anson quickly tiptoed into the kitchen, opened the fridge, grabbed a bottle of mineral water, and downed it. Every pore in his body opened up in relief.

Then—

"Ah!"

A strange shout echoed from the living room.

Before Anson could ask what was going on, Brad slid on his knees into the kitchen just as Anson was stepping out. The result was an awkward scene—

Brad was kneeling in front of Anson.

Both of them froze, eyes meeting in a moment of bewilderment.

Anson then playfully tapped the air above Brad's head and made the sign of the cross, saying, "Amen, I forgive your sins."

Afterward, he clasped his hands together in mock prayer.

Finishing the motion, Anson tilted his head, "Wait, is this Buddhism or Catholicism?"

Brad's face was full of exasperation, but he couldn't hold back his laughter. The smile that slowly spread across his face was shy yet bright, reminiscent of the Brad from five years ago who had dazzled so many. His usually tired, bleary eyes regained their sparkle.

"Anson," he called out.

"Huh?"

By now, Brad had regained his composure, though excitement still danced in his eyes. "I got the role."

Anson blinked, his thoughts racing before he finally caught up. "That role?"

Brad nodded enthusiastically. "Richard Cristof's movie." The opportunity that had unexpectedly come his way at the Emmys after-party.

"And!"

Brad took a deep breath, a really deep one.

"Sandra Bullock is confirmed to star."

Awesome!

Anson clenched his fist, cheering for Brad. "That's incredible!"

It was definitely a moment to celebrate.

This would be Brad Renfro's first significant return to the mainstream spotlight in five long years. Regardless of how well *Murder by Numbers* performed at the box office, his name would once again be lit up by Hollywood's spotlight.

This was also the first ripple effect Anson had caused in this timeline, aside from his own actions.

Finally realizing the magnitude of his achievement, Brad threw his hands up in the air, letting out a jubilant yell, releasing all the joy he had been holding back.

"Ah! Ahhh! Anson, I did it! I finally got a role on my own effort! Ahhh!"

Chapter 5, continued.