Actor in Hollywood

The screen tests finally came to an end.

Of course, this didn't mean the competition was over, but before the next round began, agents needed to gather information. Only by collecting enough details to assess the situation could they formulate new strategies and sprint towards the goal. So, at least for the next few hours or even days, it was time to rest and adjust.

James Franco desperately needed some time with alcohol.

For him, it was crucial.

"God, I'm about to explode," James said, not hiding his excitement, already fidgeting in the driver's seat.

Glancing at the passenger seat through the rearview mirror, James pouted, "Even though you're not the best wingman, I don't have a choice right now."

Wingman?

Anson immediately caught on. "Alcohol isn't your real goal, is it?"

Alcohol was just an excuse. James was actually more interested in meeting girls, so he needed a wingman, a partner to help cover for him.

James responded confidently, "Isn't that obvious?" Then he changed the subject, "But when I go to the bar with you, all the girls flock around you like bees to a flower. It's not ideal."

Anson couldn't help but laugh out loud. "I thought you were so confident that you didn't need a wingman to score."

James wasn't bothered at all. "Who knows what's up with those girls. Honestly, I think you're just average, nowhere near my level of charm. Ah, whatever, but I hope the girls in New York aren't blind."

Anson slightly raised his chin. "So, who's your ideal wingman? Don't tell me it's Seth Rogen."

James: …

"Haha," Anson laughed heartily.

Just as James was about to retort, he noticed the engine making a strange noise, like it was trying to cough something up but couldn't. Smoke began to rise from the hood, and James quickly turned on the hazard lights and pulled over to the side of the road. Before he could fully park, the car stalled.

It looked like it was about to explode.

"No!"

James let out a cry of despair.

After waiting and restraining himself for so long, staying cooped up in the hotel and focusing all his energy on the auditions, he finally got a moment of freedom. Things weren't supposed to go like this.

James wasn't ready to give up.

Looking at Anson, who was calmly leaning against the car door like he was on vacation in Hawaii, James felt a bit frustrated. Anson always seemed to have this ability to stay calm in any situation, no matter how difficult. James didn't know how Anson did it—he certainly couldn't.

Right now, James was boiling with anger, his head about to explode.

No way. He was going to the bar tonight, no matter what. He wouldn't let this stop him.

He called for a tow truck and then hailed a cab to the bar. Problem solved. This was New York; how could an engine failure leave them stranded?

At that moment, a dark blue Mini Cooper pulled up beside them.

"Hey, gentlemen, need a little help?"

The window rolled down, revealing the face of Alicia Witt, who had a graceful and intellectual look with a hint of mysterious sensuality. A smile played at the corners of her mouth.

Among the actors at the screen test, twenty-five-year-old Alicia was the oldest and had the most experience. Discovered by David Lynch at the age of five and appearing in the movie *Dune*, she had been working in Hollywood ever since, with countless roles to her name.

**Chapter 226: A Sensible Move**

Today, Alicia and James delivered a screen test performance together, achieving a high level of completion. Their chemistry and attention to detail far surpassed the imbalanced performance between Anson and Kate.

This was why James felt so confident.

After the audition, Alicia was privately pulled aside by her agent, disappearing mysteriously, so they didn't meet in the waiting room. But now, unexpectedly, they crossed paths on the street.

James eagerly stepped forward, "Hey, Alicia, fancy meeting you here."

He politely made space and then introduced, "That's Anson."

Alicia waved at Anson before turning back to James. "Car trouble?"

James was thrilled.

Her reaction made it clear—Alicia wasn't interested in Anson; her focus remained on James. His smile grew brighter, adopting a more charming demeanor as he engaged in light conversation with Alicia.

After exchanging just a few words, James straightened up and turned to Anson. "Buddy, Alicia's giving us a lift to the bar. We'll leave the car here; the insurance company will send someone over later."

Quick!

Anson's eyes moved between James and Alicia. The mutual attraction was evident—it would be awkward to tag along and play the third wheel. It wouldn't be very friendly to do so.

A smile touched Anson's eyes.

He waved it off. "Are you sure about this car?"

Alicia was driving a Mini Cooper. Even fitting James inside was a bit of a stretch, and Anson was a good half a head taller than James. Despite the car being a four-seater, Anson estimated he'd have to curl up tightly just to squeeze in.

Anson chuckled softly. "How about this? You two head to the bar first, order the food and drinks, and then welcome me when I get there."

Though he said that, Anson and James exchanged a look:

They both knew.

Clearly, Anson wasn't going to show up.

James grinned, "Buddy, you sure?"

Anson looked at James. "No, I'm not sure. Maybe I should come along?"

James quickly changed his tone, waving his hands frantically. "No, no, you're right. No need for you to cram into the economy class. Take your time."

With a quick step forward, James gave Anson a warm hug and whispered, "Thanks, man."

Without further delay, James hopped into the car. Alicia waved goodbye to Anson, and the two drove off.

In no time, Anson was left standing alone by the roadside with the temporary car that wasn't his, the engine still smoking slightly. Amid the bustling traffic, a strange sense of peace and tranquility settled over him.

He wasn't in a hurry.

Over the past few days, he had been shuttling from coast to coast, attending an awards ceremony, a screen test, and even a night of heavy drinking. Though his body hadn't protested, his mind was weary.

Some leisurely time to slow down was just what he needed.

Anson didn't rush to leave but stayed put, waiting for the tow truck.

In 2000, the biggest difference in daily life was the absence of smartphones.

If it were 2023, during such a wait, he'd probably pull out his phone to play games, watch videos, read novels, chat with friends, or scroll through social media. Whatever the activity, the time would be passed by diving into the screen.

But now?

He didn't even think about reaching for his phone. Instead, he quietly took in the scene before him. He wasn't even sure where he was in Manhattan—probably downtown, but he had no clue about the exact location or street.

And he didn't want to know.

Amidst the noise and commotion, a rhythm, a melody mixed with the beats of drums and strings, flowed through the crowd, as if one could see the musical notes dancing between footsteps and sunlight.

It immediately caught Anson's ear, and he couldn't help but follow the sound with his eyes.

**End of Chapter 226**