Watching the serious expression on Eve's face and Edgar's eager attempt to explain, Anson couldn't help but laugh. "Captain, it seems you really, really don't want me to take 'The Princess Diaries 2.'"
Edgar blinked. "Is it that obvious?"
Eve: "Wait, isn't it written right there on your forehead? 'Princess Diaries 2, get lost.'"
Edgar didn't even bother to argue, simply accepting the teasing. "Obviously, Disney wants a quick cash grab. They don't think there's anything worth exploring in this film series; it's just about making some money off your current popularity."
"No character depth, no storyline—everything's just about appearances. Looks for the characters, looks for the story, even looks for the jokes. It couldn't be simpler."
"The thing is, the script isn't funny. At all. There's not a single laugh, and the rushed, cobbled-together nature is painfully obvious."
"Trust me, it's a disaster."
Still, Anson might take the script because of a favor to Gary Marshall, and just the thought made Edgar shiver.
They had worked so hard to get to this point, finally reaching their current status after "The Elephant" won the Palme d'Or, with "The Butterfly Effect," "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind," and "Spider-Man 2" pushing Anson to new heights step by step. And after all that, the next move would be... that horrible "Princess Diaries 2"?
Honestly, Edgar couldn't imagine it and certainly couldn't just watch Anson walk into a pit.
Anson raised an eyebrow. "Is it really that bad? Now I'm curious."
Edgar: "Uh, well..."
Beside them, Eve burst out laughing without restraint.
Anson didn't elaborate further. "Hey, I've made my position clear. You two should hold back a bit; remember, I'm still mad."
Eve quickly held back her laughter, striking a mockingly serious pose and blinking at Anson, as if saying, "Is my groveling posture correct?"
Anson couldn't help but laugh, then turned to Noah. "Can you grab the other phone from the kitchen table? Thanks."
Noah didn't hesitate, running to the kitchen and back with the phone.
These days, Hollywood actors' contact information frequently leaked, with personal numbers being circulated and harassing calls coming endlessly. It was common for actors to change their phone numbers every so often.
But Anson knew that changing numbers was just a temporary fix. If he couldn't figure out why the leaks kept happening, it would be inevitable that he'd need to change numbers again later.
So, Anson simply prepared two phones—one for work and one for private contacts with friends.
That way, even if the number got leaked, it was only the work phone, and Anson wouldn't have to constantly change his private number.
The phone call with Kristen and Jack earlier was made with his personal phone; the one Noah handed him now was the work phone.
Anson took the phone, suddenly curious, and turned to Noah. "What about your opinion? The captain said all that, and you're still backing me?"
"Of course," Noah said without hesitation.
Anson was surprised. "Oh?"
Noah: "Even if it's garbage, you'll still make it shine."
One second, two seconds—
Eve: "Wow!" She exclaimed, applauding.
Anson looked at Edgar. "Captain, did you see that? Now that's the right way to show support."
Edgar widened his eyes, looking at Noah with astonishment.
Noah, on the other hand, seemed bewildered, with a completely innocent expression as he looked at Edgar, seemingly unaware of what the big deal was. He had only spoken the truth, so why was everyone so surprised?
Anson laughed.
Without paying further attention to Noah or Edgar, Anson picked up his work phone and searched for Gary Marshall's number—
If he remembered correctly, this was the first time Anson had called Gary.
In just a moment, Gary answered. "Anson?" The surprise in his voice was unmistakable.
Anson smiled. "Hey, director, long time no see."
Gary was even more surprised. "Jesus Christ, it really is you. I thought it was a scam call. By the way, congratulations on the Palme d'Or. It's worth celebrating."
Anson: "Everyone's congratulating me like I actually won the Palme d'Or. If Gus cared, I'd be embarrassed."
"Haha." Gary laughed openly. "I was just being polite. Of course, I know the Palme d'Or wasn't awarded to you."
Direct and blunt.
Anson: "Oh, really, director? If you're so direct, I might just turn into a werewolf."
Gary roared with laughter. "I'd like to see you lose control—you really don't seem like you're eighteen."
Anson shook his head repeatedly. "Director, I'm certainly not eighteen. I'm already twenty."
Gary's laughter continued without pause.
After the Palme d'Or news broke, Gary hadn't congratulated Anson.
Firstly, Anson was no longer who he used to be; he had already become the top young actor.
Secondly, they had never really been in contact privately, so suddenly congratulating him now would seem obsequious.
Thirdly, their collaboration on "The Princess Diaries 2" didn't happen, and Gary would be lying if he said he didn't care.
But Gary wasn't surprised. That's just how the world of fame and fortune worked—people liked to ride the wave of success. Anson was at the peak of his popularity, so it was only natural for him to act superior. Gary didn't like it, but there was no need to make a big fuss about it.
However, Gary was completely wrong.
With this one phone call, Anson was still the same Anson—effortlessly funny and friendly, no different than before. Gary instantly relaxed.
Surprised and relieved, Gary was glad that he'd been wrong; not everyone loses themselves in the Hollywood fame game.
"Wait, shouldn't you be at a party celebrating right now? Why are you calling me?" Gary asked.
Anson: "I'm still in France. It's morning here, and even the French aren't crazy enough to party this early... though I can't say the same for the Spanish."
"Hahaha." Gary laughed again.
Anson: "I'm calling you, director, to talk about 'The Princess Diaries 2.'"
Eve: ...
Edgar's heart skipped a beat. So Anson was actually talking to Gary Marshall? What was Anson planning?
Instinctively, Eve glanced at Edgar and whispered, "Should we grab his phone before he does something stupid?"
In just a second, countless thoughts raced through Edgar's mind like a spinning wheel, yet he still couldn't understand Anson's intentions.
Edgar had to reconsider their earlier conversation—how they should continue working together and how he should position himself in that collaboration.
Should he stick to his own stance, rationally stopping Anson from jumping into a mess? Or should he trust Anson, believing he would make the right choice?
His mind was racing.
At that moment, Edgar noticed Anson's gaze.
There was no avoidance, just a clear and bright gaze focused on both Edgar and Eve, seemingly observing their reactions. Though there wasn't a distinct expression, a faint smile touched Anson's lips.
Edgar's heart tightened sharply.
He shook his head at Eve, with determination in his eyes. "It's too late to stop him now. We'll wait and see."
Eve pursed her lips, casually sitting upright again. "No objections from me. Either way, whether he does a terrible movie or not, it doesn't affect me. I wouldn't mind seeing Anson Wood act the fool on the big screen—God, that would be quite the show."
read my new story
[Hollywood Glamour] The Road to Hollywood Royalty
There was a time when he looked at Eva and saw nothing but a train wreck. To him, she was just a pretty face with a gambling problem and a lying streak—someone who used her "dream of being a director" as nothing more than a sad excuse for her failures.
He never bought it. He never believed she actually had the chops to be a great director.
But the moment he kicked her to the curb? That airhead who used to wear her dreams like cheap jewelry... she vanished. It was like she became a whole new person overnight.
And what happened next was nothing short of insane.
Facing a gauntlet of skepticism, ridicule, and endless obstacles, this disgraced Irish country girl didn't just roll over. She gritted her teeth and clawed her way up against the odds.
She didn't just succeed—she became a legend. She shot straight to the stars!