[Chapter 75: Party]
One hour later.
Wilshire Hotel, Beverly Hills.
In an executive lounge on the fifth floor.
Most of the key crew from Terminator 2, along with some staff from Columbia Pictures, gathered here.
"Mr. Cameron, it's confirmed. The police arrived at the shooting scene within minutes after the gunfire," a staffer reported, briefing on the recent shooting incident near the Wilshire Hotel.
"The shooter targeted Evan Dando, lead singer of The Lemonheads. Details and motives haven't been released yet," he added.
Inside the lounge, many from the Terminator 2 crew were present. At this news, James Cameron, Arnold Schwarzenegger, and several key members all gave Orlando strange looks almost simultaneously.
"What's with the looks? You don't think I hired a hitman, do you?" Orlando said, half-joking. "That guy's just trouble!"
"Ahem, no, no, we didn't mean anything by it," Cameron coughed hurriedly, drawing attention back to himself.
"Yeah, yeah, no offense intended..."
Several people who'd heard about the incident the night before at the Neverland party laughed awkwardly together. Many in the room had ties to the music industry or were familiar with the drama involving Orlando.
The shooting had happened shortly after the party. Evan Dando wasn't exactly the kind you'd expect to behave - a spoiled rich kid always taking jabs at Orlando in the press. Consistently, Evan kept smearing Orlando's reputation.
Especially during the Sony vs. Warner rivalry, he seemed to jump the gun attacking Orlando, despite having no real stake in either camp. Though not that famous, his words carried some weight. To outsiders, it looked like Evan had some connection to Orlando.
So when Evan got shot, some parts of the industry quietly speculated -- maybe Orlando had motives after all?
But everyone quickly changed the subject, talking about the upcoming party and the film's shooting schedule.
---
Orlando was frustrated - the shooting had nothing to do with him.
That bastard Evan Dando was a rock star, and in America, rockers symbolized chaos and rebellion. The punk scene was small fries in comparison -- most celebrity shootings were linked to rock or hip-hop scenes. In fact, about 45% of celebrity shootings involved rockers like Evan; another 45% involved hip-hop artists.
Evan getting shot? Totally normal. The guy was arrogant, openly disrespecting minorities even at Michael Jackson's parties. It was no surprise he caught a bullet.
---
After the party broke up, even Frank DiLeo, looking uneasy, came over to ask Orlando.
"Fuck, even if I wanted to kill someone, it wouldn't be that piece of shit. I might as well have someone kill Kalikow. Why would I kill this piece of shit?"
"Okay, okay, I believe you," Frank was just asking. He knew Orlando's motive to kill Evan was practically zero; after all, Evan got the short end of the stick that night.
Because of his racist comments, Evan was now essentially blacklisted by the black community, with his career in serious jeopardy. If anyone hired a hitman, it would've been Evan trying to take down Orlando, not the other way around.
If Orlando wanted anyone dead, the first unlucky ones would be the New York Post owners and editors who attacked him.
---
Soon, night fell and Los Angeles's city lights began to shine.
Though nothing matched New York's towering skyline, Beverly Hills's lights still declared loudly: This was the home of the world's largest film industry, churning out dazzling stars every year. This was Hollywood.
Every year, countless handsome men and beautiful women arrived seeking their chance. Americans and the world's dreamers all yearned for one big break -- to become those admired, iconic stars known for their talent, charisma, or attitude.
They were willing to sacrifice everything just to get famous and survive in this playground of glitter and fame.
Wait, are they all really here for the craft, for the love of film?
Of course, everyone would say so, right?
In the Wilshire Hotel's grand ballroom, a mid-sized cocktail party celebrating the start of production on Terminator 2 was underway. Columbia Pictures, the primary investor, hosted the event, attracting many celebrities big and small.
As the film's villain and a rising star in the music world, Orlando was one of the party's main draws. Besides some Columbia executives, he stood shoulder to shoulder with Cameron -- whose previous film had flopped -- and Schwarzenegger, known famously for Terminator.
Naturally, Orlando became a target for many attendees eager to make connections.
...
"Mr. Keller, did you know I met a young singer performing at a bar last week? His voice was absolutely captivating! If you only spend five minutes listening to him sing, you will definitely..."
"You can send him to Seymour Stein in New York. I'm not interested in talent scouts," Orlando replied coolly.
...
Nearby, a dealer was trying to sell a rare collection of vintage jewelry and luxury items. "I have this special 50-year-old collection Sotheby's meant to auction next month, but I think it suits your elegant style perfectly. Meryl Streep's stylist tried to borrow it from me last week for the Oscars, I refused... It's only $750,000 -- think of it as a friendship price!"
"No thanks, not much into jewels," Orlando said.
...
"I heard you bought a Manhattan penthouse. With your status, you probably should have a matching mansion here in LA. There's a Spanish-style estate on Beverly Hills' summit -- originally owned by Howard Hughes's personal flight instructor! His grandson urgently needs to sell to pay off gambling debts. Floor price is $8 million, with a full set of 1950s custom aviation-themed furniture. It's like having a private museum!"
"I mostly stay in New York. Rarely come to the West Coast..." Orlando shrugged.
...
Almost everyone who approached Orlando at the party had some angle: rookie agents seeking clients, scammers pitching luxury goods or antiques, and real estate agents hawking mansions.
Dealing with these endless fringe types quickly tested Orlando's patience.
Luckily, not everyone was like that.
---
A businessman who recently moved from New York to LA to explore opportunities approached. Orlando initially thought he was another time waster, but Frank quietly stepped in to introduce him as the Terminator 2 costume supplier.
Turns out, this man, Gerald Connolly, owned part of the textile factory land Orlando planned to buy in Brooklyn.
Orlando's mood brightened as he started chatting with Gerald.
"I'm glad you like my work. My debut EP won't release for another three months. Is that your daughter? Wow, Jennifer Connelly? Oh, yes, Mr. Connelly, I see. Hello, hello..."
Just then, Gerald's daughter joined them while Jennifer Lopez, his female companion tonight, slipped away to the restroom.
Yes, the very Jennifer Connolly.
Her face was symmetrical, jawline delicately shaped but not too sharp, blending youthful softness with emerging maturity. Even more beautiful than some old pictures Orlando had seen from Once Upon a Time in America before. When her piercing gaze met his, Orlando thought she was stunning.
With a charming smile, Jennifer said, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Orlando. I'm a big fan -- I bought a hundred copies of Old Town Road just to collect every poster of you!"
Orlando shook her hand and gently touched the back of it. "I'm honored. I like your work too."
"Jennifer's my daughter. She came with me and is my date tonight," Gerald added with a laugh.
He explained he and James had once been good friends back at CSU, both majoring in physics, and now he supplied costumes for the film. Jennifer also wanted to continue her career in Hollywood, so he brought her along.
"That's great," Orlando said.
Nepotism is everywhere -- Hollywood's no different.
Take music for example: mega stars like Michael Jackson are a prime example.
In music, talent's essential -- if you can't write or sing, you're out, no way around it. It's like math -- either you get it or you don't.
But nepotism is crazier in Hollywood's film industry.
Even if you have zero acting talent, there's always something else: directing, editing, production, or logistics. If you're not an idiot and can move your limbs, there's always a job for you on set.
Not to mention the privileged second or third generations or those with connections.
For example, a father and son attending the party just now, both named Robert Downey -- Robert Downey Sr., a famous Hollywood writer, director, and producer, and his son Robert Downey Jr., who debuted two years ago to critical acclaim and was now a rising star.
Compared to Gerald and Jennifer -- one a businessman, the other an actress -- the Downeys had a more direct industry connection as director and actor.
But at this party, the music world's new superstar, Orlando, seemed more interested in Gerald's striking daughter.
"You prefer Peter Pan Was Right, huh? Wow, you really have a gentle spirit. Most people like Counting Stars better," Orlando said.
"Yeah, too bad your EP isn't out yet. I'm stuck with TV show clips recorded on VHS to hear your songs so far."
"No problem. If you want, I can send you the mastered tracks -- arranged and mixed -- but you can't leak them. Otherwise, it will be very troublesome."
"Really? Mr. Keller, can you?" Jennifer perked up.
"Of course. Call me Orlando, just like I call you Jennifer."
Gerald and Frank exchanged glances -- one a father, the other a manager -- watching their easy, lively conversation with some envy and amusement.
Gerald thought, [Fuck, earlier that guy was with a different Jennifer. Now he's trying to seduce my daughter! Fuck!]
Frank thought, [Heh... gotta handle this!]
After a moment, Frank said, "Hey Orlando, I gotta take care of something. You two keep talking."
"What is it?" Orlando asked.
Frank nodded toward the direction where Jennifer Lopez had gone to the restroom.
Orlando got it -- Frank wanted to avoid being interrupted by Lopez when she returned.
"Go ahead," Orlando said with a knowing look, not bothering to hide his amusement to Gerald.
Gerald smiled too -- clearly unbothered, there was not even an intention to warn his daughter that Orlando had a girlfriend or that he had brought a female companion with him.
Was that Latin girl Orlando's girlfriend? Was it a big deal? In Hollywood, it really wasn't.
Not just boyfriends and girlfriends -- even married couples saying they never cheat were jokes.
Why were Hollywood marriages so fragile? Everyone knew the truth: cheating was just part of the game.
When the Ashley Madison data leak happened in 2015, exposing 36 million users, mostly from US and UK, with elites of all professions involved, no one was truly faithful.
And Orlando was still single, with no official girlfriend.
If Gerald's daughter hooked up with him... well, Gerald was more than happy to see it happen!
*****
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