Chapter 483: The Rules of the Hollywood Game

The SAT 1 exam was a breeze for someone like Martin.

The test was three hours long, but he finished everything in just one hour.

Feeling refreshed, he walked out of the test center and drove straight to Myers Pictures. He needed to finish the new Batman script quickly and then head to the nearly assembled Brokeback Mountain production team.

Just as he entered the Myers Pictures headquarters, he spotted a young girl—no, a teenage girl—jumping up from the lounge sofa and running toward him.

"Elisabeth? What are you doing here?" Martin asked, surprised.

The 14-year-old girl had developed a striking figure, much curvier than her two older sisters. She had already grown past 1.64 meters, her body well-proportioned and mature beyond her years.

The girl ran up to Martin, blushing. "I came to audition for a small role in The Village—just a minor character. The audition's over, but I thought I'd wait and see. Maybe I'd get lucky and run into you. And look! You really showed up."

The Village was a horror film invested in by Myers Pictures, directed by M. Night Shyamalan—the same director behind The Sixth Sense.

Back when The Sixth Sense was released, Shyamalan had skyrocketed to fame, hailed as the next great master of suspense and horror films.

For a time, he was considered a potential genre-defining filmmaker.

But no one expected his peak to be so short-lived. After The Sixth Sense, Shyamalan's films steadily declined, each performing worse than the last.

In reality, after The Sixth Sense, his movies carried an eerie, mystical atmosphere—less about gore and more about psychological suspense. He was skilled at building tension, but if he miscalculated, his weak plots could easily turn his films into dull or even ridiculous flops.

The Village was meant to be his comeback film, but no Hollywood studio was willing to finance its hefty $70 million budget.

In the end, Martin had stepped in and backed the project—but he cut the budget down to $50 million.

Martin knew about The Village—it wasn't as impressive as The Sixth Sense, but it was still a decent horror film. It grossed around $260 million worldwide, making a modest profit.

"So, did you get the role? Need me to put in a good word?" Martin asked.

"No, no need. Director Shyamalan said I did great. The role is mine," Elisabeth said proudly, her face practically saying, Come on, praise me!

"Not bad! You're amazing!" Martin gave her a thumbs-up.

Elisabeth giggled happily.

Then, she asked, "Martin, do you have any plans later? Mary wants to treat you to dinner."

Spending her older sister's money to win favor—this girl was a pro at it. Clearly, she'd done it many times before.

"Oh, Mary's here too? Where is she?"

"She's upstairs, chatting with Drew."

"Alright, let's go get them."

Although Martin was eager to write the script, he didn't mind taking time for a meal.

—

Guisados – A Famous Taco Joint in Burbank

Martin, Drew, Mary, and Elisabeth sat in a cozy booth in the corner.

"The shredded chicken taco here is fantastic, and the beef taco is great too," Mary recommended.

"I'll have a beef taco."

"I'll take the shredded chicken," Drew said.

After placing their orders, the group began to chat.

"Did you hear? Bill O'Reilly, the top anchor at Fox News, has been accused of sexually harassing his O'Reilly Factor producer, Andrea Mackris. She allegedly tried to extort $60 million from him, but he refused to pay, so now it's in court," Drew shared the latest gossip.

Mary shook her head. "Both of them are terrible people. Andrea Mackris used her body to climb the ranks, while Bill O'Reilly not only exploited her but also engaged in some disgusting behavior. That said, $60 million is outrageous. Even if she wins, she'd be lucky to get $10 million."

At this moment, Elisabeth's eyes twinkled mischievously. She turned to Martin and asked, "I heard from Mary that some actresses in Hollywood will do anything to land a lead role. Is that true, Martin?"

Without giving Martin time to think, she quickly followed up, "Have you ever encountered that?"

Without hesitation, Martin replied, "I have. But my relationships with women have never been transactional."

Then, in his mind, he added: Well… maybe they started as transactions, but they definitely didn't stay that way.

Drew silently pinched his thigh under the table.

Elisabeth burst into laughter.

Drew smirked. "This kind of thing is completely normal in Hollywood. Usually, the more disadvantaged the actor, the more common it is. For example, there's a widely circulated rumor that when Julia Roberts auditioned for Pretty Woman, she straight-up asked her agent, 'Who do I need to sleep with to get the lead role?'"

Mary was annoyed. "When did I ever tell you this stuff?"

Elisabeth playfully stuck out her tongue. "Okay, fine, you didn't tell me—I overheard you talking about it."

Then, she asked again, "Will I have to deal with this in the future?"

Martin chuckled. "No one would dare. You're my friend."

Mary sighed. "It's extremely difficult for actors without connections to break into Hollywood. Whether willingly or unwillingly, they have to give up something. That's just the nature of the game here. Attractive newcomers always get certain invitations. You can refuse, but… most people don't, because those invitations are often the fastest way to stardom."

Martin suddenly recalled a notorious industry scandal.

During the filming of Transformers 3, Victoria's Secret model Rosie Huntington-Whiteley was frequently spotted sneaking into Michael Bay's hotel room at night.

Later, while the cast was traveling for promotions, a flight attendant caught her allegedly giving Michael Bay a blowjob in the first-class cabin.

The flight attendant took a secret photo and posted it online, causing an uproar.

Michael Bay and Rosie later denied everything, saying she had just dropped her hair clip and bent down to pick it up.

Bay even swore to God that nothing happened.

God: "…"

There's an old saying in Hollywood:

Behind the glitz and glamour of the Walk of Fame… lies a red casting couch in the shadows.