Chapter 62-63

Chapter 62: Rumors

In Los Angeles, inside the Miramax studio.

The filming crew of "Ashes" had been shooting for nearly a week now. Miramax was highly invested in this film, pouring resources into everything from pre-production and casting to studio arrangements. In stark contrast, the co-investor seemed utterly negligent, almost entirely out of the loop—except for the occasional calls with Rachel.

The scenes set in the mental hospital were all shot in the studio, a typical procedure for most films. They would complete all the scenes in one location before moving on to the next.

Today's shoot involved the male protagonist, a gambler named Rakers, entering the mental hospital and encountering the female lead, Jon, for the first time. The camera followed Rakers as he entered the lobby and saw Jon sitting quietly on a windowsill chair, gazing outside.

Everyone witnessing this scene was struck by the same thought.

She's breathtaking!

At that moment, everyone in the studio—script supervisors, prop masters, lighting technicians, even the observing actors and directors—stood in their respective spots, viewing the scene from different angles, yet all unanimously awed.

In that instant, Rachel Cyrus's beauty captivated everyone. While many are striking at first glance, their allure tends to fade as familiarity grows. But Rachel was different. Her beauty, radiating from within and manifesting externally, withstood any scrutiny, revealing new facets the longer one looked.

Such beauty wasn't something that could be described in mere words. At first, it might be hard to pinpoint what exactly made her so enchanting, but the more you looked, the deeper you'd fall into her charm. It was a combination of her aura, demeanor, expressions, features, and even her subtlest movements that culminated in this breathtaking beauty.

While sitting in front of the monitors, director Robert Marshall and assistant director Milani Feagin, amidst their admiration for Rachel's beauty, felt something else:

She's a fantastic actor!

Real movie-making demands high-caliber acting and nuanced expressions, especially in close-ups. The performance must feel natural and convincing; otherwise, it leaves a stiff and artificial impression on the audience.

Rachel's performance at that moment was nothing short of remarkable. Of course, there were signs of inexperience, but her raw talent was dazzling.

Over time, Milani, initially the sole skeptic of Rachel, became her biggest advocate. What impressed her most was Rachel's perceptiveness. Despite her lack of experience, a small hint was enough for Rachel to transform her performance. This adaptability often signifies an actor's potential, and Rachel occasionally delivered unexpectedly stunning performances.

Like now, she perfectly captured Jon's frail, beautiful, and serene essence. The way she looked at Rakers, played by Ryan Gosling, in that instant was beyond exemplary, even causing Gosling to falter briefly—a fleeting moment almost imperceptible but not missed by the keen-eyed directors.

"Cut!" director Robert called out decisively, clicking his tongue in slight regret. If only Gosling hadn't hesitated, it would have been perfect.

Ryan Gosling, aware of his mistake, promptly apologized to everyone and gave Rachel a thumbs up, signaling her excellent performance. Rachel just smiled in response, not uttering a word. She needed to maintain her composure, harness the momentum of her good performance, and strive for a flawless next take.

This determined attitude helped her overcome the initial hiccups, and her performances grew increasingly impressive.

Indeed, the second take went smoothly for everyone, successfully wrapping up the scene. It was now midday, and director Robert announced a break for lunch and rest.

"Rachel, your performance was amazing!" Philip Walters approached her with a flattering smile, handing her a water bottle.

"Thanks, Philip, but you really don't have to be so formal with me," Rachel said, slightly embarrassed, accepting the bottle while casting a sidelong glance at her assistant, Lorna, who wore a mix of amusement and resignation on her face.

Indeed, ever since landing the lead role in this new film, Rachel, still relatively unknown, had been provided a personal assistant by her agent, Nancy Jacobs.

In Nancy's words, it was time for Rachel to gradually start embracing the necessities of stardom, and the expenses for these services would be deducted from her salary.

Miramax's offer for Rachel's lead role was $300,000, a substantial sum for a newcomer, yet not extravagantly high given her portrayal of the film's pivotal character.

For Rachel, life on set was turning out to be much smoother than expected. Filming was on track, everyone was relatively courteous, and the directors were earnest and thorough in their guidance.

The only discomfort she faced was from Philip Walters, the executive from Miramax who seemed to loiter on set far beyond his job requirements, lavishing her with excessive attention and warmth. If not for his respectful yet enthusiastic demeanor, which didn't quite align with that of an admirer, Rachel might have suspected he

was pursuing her.

"It's fine, really. Rachel, I'm just a fan, and it's my pleasure to serve you. Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you," Philip Walters said. Little did he know that Rachel had almost mistaken him for an admirer, which would have terrified him to no end, especially after the lessons he'd learned from Clyde.

Unable to rebuff Philip's harmless overtures, Rachel decided against sitting down to rest and headed towards the makeup room instead. In crowded spaces, Philip tended to be more reserved, and since she was on a controlled diet to maintain Jon's slender appearance for the role, she thought it best to prepare for makeup early, as the afternoon's shooting would require it.

The makeup room door was ajar.

Rachel, dressed in her character's hospital attire and soft cotton slippers, moved almost noiselessly, so the lively conversation inside the room continued uninterrupted, with snippets of chatter floating out.

"I didn't expect Rachel to improve so fast. Her recent performances have been quite good," Rachel recognized the voice as Dulte Menuhin, the actor playing the hospital nurse—kind and experienced. Hearing her own name, Rachel instinctively paused, feeling a bit awkward about entering.

"Oh, come on, Dulte. She's just another obscure actress with no background. Hollywood is full of them. Have you forgotten her poor performances at the start? What makes her fit to play the lead? She must have curried favor with some big shot in the industry."

The sharp voice wasn't immediately recognizable to Rachel, but the words struck her, draining the color from her face as she was drawn into the conversation.

"That's not fair, Madeline. I can tell Rachel's a good girl. There's no need for such baseless speculation," Dulte Menuhin obviously didn't buy into Madeline's narrative, attempting to intervene kindly.

"I'm not just stabbing in the dark, Dulte. There's a basis for what I'm saying. Haven't you noticed how unusually nice the director is to Rachel? He hardly ever scolds her, and she's no big star. Robert isn't known for his patience. Did you forget his outburst last time? And then there's Philip from the production team, overly attentive to the point of absurdity! Unless Rachel is Antonio E Smith's (Miramax President) illegitimate daughter, I'd bet she's cozied up to some high-up. She might even have slept with a top executive at Disney."

Madeline, the speaker, analyzed the situation with conviction, adding a touch of mystery to her conclusion. Having been in Hollywood for years, she'd seen all sorts of underhanded dealings, even if she was only ever cast in supporting roles.

In her mind, a beauty like Rachel Cyrus wouldn't rise so quickly without being "slept with" by someone influential. She imagined, with a tinge of envy and malice, that Rachel must have exceptionally pleased someone powerful to receive such vigorous support.

Dulte was visibly swayed by her words, falling silent. Other makeup artists in the room joined the conversation, all chipping in with their own speculations.

Chapter 63: Bitter Dreams

Philip, who had been trailing Rachel, got caught up chatting with his assistant and missed the initial part of the conversation. However, he heard the last part loud and clear, instantly breaking out into a cold sweat. Sneaking a glance at Rachel's pale face, he barged through the door in a frenzy, fuming.

"SHIT! You stupid gossipmongers and chatterboxes, if you want to ruin yourselves, fine, but don't drag me down with you!"

Philip was already fretting about Clyde's recent comments that the big boss was somewhat pleased with his performance and might reward him. Now, that was all probably down the drain!

Caught in a whirlwind of anger and anxiety, Philip was trapped in a nightmare of imagined punishment so vivid that, had he a gun at hand, he might have even turned on those women.

Outside, Rachel felt as if her feet were bound by an invisible force, devoid of the courage to step into the familiar makeup room. Her mind was a mess, yet she could hear every word from inside: Philip's furious shouting, the makeup artists' attempts to detach themselves with excuses, and Madeline Heck's anxious, stuttering defenses.

"No! No! It's not like that! They are slandering me!"

Rachel was filled with injustice, confusion, and rage. Yet, she couldn't help but consider the validity in Madeline's words.

When had it started? Whether it was her agent Nancy, or the bigwigs at the film company, the director, or even Philip from the production team, everyone's attitude towards her had subtly shifted. Her audition success rate had skyrocketed, and the producers were unexpectedly generous with her salary...

These details, previously unnoticed or unpondered, now flooded her mind, draining her of the courage to defend herself.

Could someone really be helping her behind the scenes?

Rachel Cyrus was no fool, and quickly, Bruce's ever-smiling face flashed through her mind.

Feeling suffocated, she almost ran out of the studio, ignoring Lorna's calls from behind. It seemed like everyone was looking at her with strange eyes, whispering about her. Even if their stares were no different than usual, Rachel felt they were filled with contempt, mockery, and ridicule...

"Nancy, is Bruce making you help me?" Rachel dialed her agent's number, feeling a raging fire in her chest, threatening to consume her if she didn't vent it somewhere.

"What are you talking about, Rachel?" Nancy Jacobs sounded puzzled at first, but she quickly grasped Rachel's implication and asked calmly.

"People on set are saying that someone influential is backing me, that's why I got the role, that's why they're so nice to me. Is it true? Is it Bruce?!" Rachel's words tumbled out fast and frantic, losing her usual composure and failing to mask her tone.

"You should know, Nancy, tell me!"

"Watch your tone, Rachel Cyrus!" Nancy was visibly displeased with her intense demeanor. "I don't know what happened, but your current attitude is extremely disappointing. Remember what I told you! This is Hollywood, no one will sympathize with you, and no one will be kind to you without reason!"

Rachel was momentarily silenced by Nancy's icy words, like a bucket of cold water poured over her. She opened her mouth but found no words to say, and the phone line fell into a brief silence.

"Feeling a bit more rational?" Nancy's voice pierced the silence after a short pause.

"So you mean there are bad rumors on set? That's as normal as it gets. Perform poorly, and people will look down on you. Excel, and some will be jealous. Get a great opportunity, and some will try to push you out or snatch it away. That's how the world works, and it's not about to change. If you can't handle it, maybe you should go back to school and come back when you're ready. But let me tell you, Rachel Cyrus, even when you return, licking your wounds, the struggles here will only have intensified. And what you're facing now is barely a warm-up."

Rachel was at a loss for words, feeling her principles clashing with reality but unable to articulate a counterargument. She could only stay silent, silent, and silent.

Nancy continued relentlessly, "If you have any sense left, listen to me. I'll handle the situation on set, and I'll arrange a leave for you if necessary. Don't go back until you've regained your composure, to avoid any mishaps."

After a pause, she added with a hint of cold detachment in her voice, "I'm your agent. I promote, package, handle PR, and find you work because that's my job. But I'm not a nanny, nor a life coach, so I don't want a repeat of this. The next time you come questioning, I hope you bring something more substantial. Lastly, if

you want an answer, yes, Bruce did offer some assistance, and I think you should be grateful to him. Anything else?"

"No..." Rachel felt awkward, overwhelmed by Nancy's relentless lecture, feeling like the unreasonable one despite her initial intent to interrogate.

"Good." Nancy didn't give her a chance to speak further, hanging up abruptly.

Rachel stood there, staring at her phone in a daze. She didn't feel she was wrong. Why were they doing all this without her consent, treating her like a child kept in the dark? Didn't her opinion matter? No, she had made it clear to Bruce that she didn't want his interference.

Finding a new target for her frustration, she quickly dialed Bruce's number, which connected immediately.

"What's up? Our star Rachel, how are you? Fancy you finding the time to call me," Bruce's cheerful laughter came through, seemingly oblivious to the turmoil.

"Why did you do it, Bruce?!" Rachel's voice rose, her suppressed anger and frustration from the set and her call with Nancy nearing a breaking point, desperately needing an outlet.

"What did I do? What are you talking about?" Bruce's tone dropped slightly, filled with surprise and confusion. He was well aware of the latest updates from Clyde but had no intention of letting Rachel know.

"What did you do?! I made it clear to you that I wanted to earn roles through my own efforts. This is my life, and I don't appreciate your unwarranted interference. Was it you who pulled strings for this role? Did you also smooth things over with the production team? Why would you do that without even consulting me? You... you... you..."

Rachel's emotions overflowed, her voice trembling with indignation. Unwilling to appear weak in front of the crew, unable to best the assertive Nancy Jacobs, she finally found a vent for her feelings with Bruce, her words pouring out uncontrollably.

"You all act like overbearing parents, constantly claiming it's for my own good, yet never considering my feelings, not even bothering to ask if I need it! That's what you did!"

Throughout the entire outburst, Bruce didn't interrupt Rachel's tirade. In fact, he was leisurely puffing on a cigar, even taking the time to blow a few smoke rings. Only when she seemed to quiet down, her voice hoarse, did he gently ask:

"Rachel, why are you so angry?"

"What?" Rachel was taken aback by Bruce's nonchalant response. She had expected him to either try to explain himself or react with similar agitation and anger. This would have given her a reason to continue the argument or have a heated debate, convincing him, or at least satisfying her need to express herself.

Anyway, his reaction shouldn't be this indifferent. It made her feel like she was punching cotton – no resistance, no impact, just an empty and frustrating feeling that left her unable to respond.

"I'm asking, why are you so angry?" Bruce repeated the question with an earnestness that seemed genuinely curious, as if he was facing something utterly incomprehensible and just wanted to understand. "Do you feel you're not qualified for the role? Or do you lack confidence in your acting skills?"

"Of course, I'm confident. I'm absolutely worthy of this role, and I've done an excellent job!" Rachel immediately retorted, unwilling to concede.

"If that's the case, then at most, I've only done some networking to ensure the role that was meant for you didn't meet with any mishaps. Is there something wrong with that?" Bruce's voice was calm and measured, allowing each word to sink in and prompting involuntary reflection.

"What if someone else, through some underhand means, had taken the role that was rightfully yours? That's what I didn't want to happen. Of course, I should have communicated with you in advance, but I was very busy recently and took the liberty to act on your behalf. I was planning to tell you after the shooting, to sit down and have a proper talk. I just wanted to protect your dream from too many setbacks. I hoped, as your best friend, to offer whatever little help I could."

After laying out his thoughts in an uninterrupted flow, Bruce repeated his initial question.

"So, Rachel, what exactly is making you so angry?"

Why am I so angry? Rachel found herself lost in Bruce's reasoning.

Was Bruce wrong? A silent supporter, asking for nothing in return, expending a lot of effort to support her career. And how had she repaid him? By lashing out over some vague sense of pride and independence, blaming him without even understanding the full story.

She couldn't face the people on set, she was intimidated by her agent Nancy, and she unleashed her fury on Bruce, the one closest to her.

A wave of guilt and confusion rose in Rachel's heart. For the first time in her life, she felt so lost, like a capricious child throwing tantrums under the caring watch of elders, causing hurt to everyone around her.

Could it be that all her beliefs up to this point were wrong? Rachel felt utterly disoriented.

"Bruce, I won't easily judge or influence your life philosophy. All I wanted to do was offer a little help. If it's really that hard for you to accept, then I apologize," Bruce's voice came through the phone, almost hearing every subtle breath and gradually calming heartbeat on the other end, guessing that she had been swayed by his words.

"No need, let's just call it even this time."

Despite feeling a bit embarrassed and guilty, Rachel couldn't bring herself to utter a word of apology. After all, Bruce wouldn't mind, she reassured herself, not realizing that she was increasingly becoming entangled in Bruce's sweetly woven dreamscape, unable to extricate herself.

"You seem to feel better? That's good, my dear superstar. To celebrate your first leading role, we'll have to get together properly next time," Bruce chuckled, taking another leisurely puff of his cigar, easily defusing the situation with the charming actress.

He was keenly aware of the subtle shift in Rachel's attitude but never tried to pierce through that thin veil. If life was a game, then only the most patient player could firmly grasp the whole picture and eventually secure the final victory, sooner or later.