Made In Hollywood

"CAA will soon sign a formal contract with me and help plan out my entire future."

Rick Solomon twirled the coffee cup in his hand, showing off without reservation. "Loevitt even got me a supporting role in CAA's package project *Alien 3*. Success comes easily to me."

He glanced Duke Rosenberg up and down. "And you, Duke? Loevitt told me that you've been hanging around film sets since you were five, and by sixteen, you had small roles in movies. But now? You've been in seventeen films without a single line, no close-up shots, and your name hasn't appeared in the media even once. You're a complete failure!"

With his hands folded on the table, Duke gazed at Rick Solomon indifferently, his occasional glance at him resembling one watching a clown at the circus.

Rick, likely provoked by Duke's attitude, raised his voice slightly. "What are you so proud of? Want to be a director? Wake up! Stop dreaming! Let me tell you, Loevitt only signed you back then because your family has connections with George Lucas and has some pull in Hollywood. It's nothing more than shameful nepotism!"

"Robert Solomon must be your father, right?" Duke suddenly spoke, his voice soft but cutting. "If I'm not mistaken, he's the Executive Vice President at Warner Bros. By your logic, CAA signed you..."

"Because I have talent and potential, and you don't!"

Rick quickly waved off Duke's words and changed the subject. "You used underhanded tactics to push me out as starting quarterback back in the day, but so what? Can you get into the NFL? Can you make it to the Super Bowl? Oh, and by the way, Annie Bennett agreed to be my girlfriend..."

Before he could fully revel in his supposed victory, Duke interrupted with a strange tone, "Sorry, who's Annie Bennett?"

Seeing Rick's eyes widen, Duke lightly tapped his forehead. "Oh, now I remember. She was the blonde cheerleading captain. I only spent two nights with her before tossing her aside. I had no idea she'd end up with you."

Upon hearing this, Rick Solomon shot up from his chair. "You punk, I..."

He pointed at his chest. "I'm going to be a big star, attend the Oscars, and my name will be known all over the world."

He gestured toward Duke from across the table. "But you? You'll spend your whole life in obscurity, always being a pathetic failure!"

"I believe the first part of what you said."

Without waiting for a response, Duke got up and headed for the door. There was no need to argue with someone like Rick. In another world, Rick Solomon indeed became famous, though not as famous as the female lead in that infamous video, but well-known nonetheless.

As he reached the door, Duke faintly caught Rick's voice due to the café's silence, "Don't think that making a couple of weird experimental films makes you a director!"

That was probably the most reasonable thing Rick had said all day. If making a few experimental films could get someone into Hollywood as a director, Duke wouldn't have struggled as much as he had.

This meeting certainly wasn't a pleasant one.

On his way back to his apartment in his used Chevrolet, Duke kept thinking about the conversation. The big player, CAA, had unceremoniously discarded him, the unknown pawn. What should he do next?

Keep gaining experience in film sets, waiting for opportunities, or...

Back at his apartment, Duke resumed packing. Hundreds of nearly worn-out books, countless VHS tapes, dozens of film reels, a 16mm camera, and a small editing machine were carefully sorted into several boxes, each sealed and ready for transport the next day.

These were the sum of his assets, the proof of his years of learning and practice.

The next morning, Duke settled his lease with the landlord before the moving company arrived. After his belongings were loaded onto the truck, he drove his Chevrolet, following the moving van out of Valencia and heading straight for Santa Monica, a seaside town on the western edge of Los Angeles.

This town was both a tourist destination and a favored residence for the wealthy. The Rosenberg family's villa was in a prime location, not far from the yacht harbor in Santa Monica. Though the property wasn't large—less than an acre, including the front yard and small garden—it had the elegance and refinement typical of French architecture.

By the time he arrived, it was close to noon. Duke skillfully parked his Chevrolet in the garage and instructed the housekeeper to direct the moving company workers to temporarily store the boxes in the storeroom next to the main house. After settling the bill and watching the truck drive away, he took a look at the familiar cream-colored building, walked up the stone steps of the same hue, and entered the house.

Though it had been a long time since he'd been back, Duke felt no unfamiliarity in the place where he had grown up.

Walking across the smooth marble floors, he made his way to the main living room, where, unsurprisingly, his ever-busy mother was waiting for him.

The woman shared the same hair and eye color as Duke, with a distinct Jewish face. Tall and sharp-featured, she embodied the word "beautiful," especially given her well-maintained appearance, which made her look like she was in her early thirties, despite being much older.

"Mom, I'm back."

Lifting her eyes to look at him, Leah Rosenberg nodded gently. "Hmm, let's eat."

She set down the fashion magazine in her hand and walked toward the dining room. Duke quickly followed her, walking just beside Mrs. Leah.

Duke was long accustomed to his mother's demeanor. Leah was a sharp, capable woman of few words, and she was particularly strict with him. Even if she missed him, it rarely showed in her speech or expressions.

But Duke knew she cared deeply for him. Otherwise, she wouldn't have taken time out of her busy schedule to make lunch, waiting for him to come home. And Duke respected his mother. After 21 years together, even strangers would develop a strong bond, let alone people who were related by blood.

After briefly freshening up in the washroom next to the dining room, Duke entered the dining area and took his usual seat to his mother's left. Lunch wasn't extravagant, just a simple vegetable salad, barley bread, potatoes with beef, and oatmeal porridge. One taste was enough for Duke to know it was his mother who had prepared it.

"You've officially graduated."

Their family didn't have many dining table formalities. After eating just a few bites, Mrs. Leah asked, "Your plans for the future haven't changed?"

"No, Mom." Duke looked at his mother and said with determination, "I'm going to be a film director! And a successful one!"

He knew very well that his mother would have preferred him to go into business.

"Do you know how difficult that road is, Duke?" Mrs. Leah uncharacteristically said a bit more than usual. "Are you prepared for it?"

"I've been ready for a long time, Mom." Duke's resolve had never wavered. "Only you know how much time and effort I've put into this, how hard I've worked toward this goal for the past ten years."

"Tell me about your plans," Mrs. Leah asked, knowing that while Duke was a man of action, he wasn't reckless.

"Over the next few weeks, I'm going to take an idea that's been in my head for a while..."

He pointed to his head and continued, "and turn it into a proper script. Then I'll look for opportunities to get it financed and direct it."

Looking up at his mother, Duke could easily read the disapproval on her beautiful face after twenty years of living together. "Mom, I know I've only made two experimental films, and both my experience and age are against me."

"But don't forget, Hollywood isn't without young directors. Last year, Columbia Pictures bought the script for *Boyz n the Hood* from John Singleton and let him direct it. How old was he? Just 22! And he's Black!"

"Hollywood never has a shortage of scripts!"

Having worked in the advertising industry with ties to Hollywood, Mrs. Leah knew this well. "John Singleton will be an exception, not the rule."

Duke understood that his mother was urging him to proceed cautiously. After thinking it over, he said, "By Hollywood's usual standards, I should enter a TV or commercial production crew after graduation, starting as an assistant director or even lower. This would allow me to gain experience while waiting for opportunities. But, Mom, time isn't on my side. I have too many ideas to wait endlessly."

"Duke."

As a businesswoman, Mrs. Leah always remained level-headed. "Your chances of success right now are next to zero."

"I understand. 99.99% of people in Hollywood fail on their way to success."

Although he hadn't formally entered Hollywood, Duke had firsthand experience from a similar circle in another country. Difficulties would not make him back down. "Mom, if I try, my chances of success may be next to zero; if I don't try, then they're absolutely zero!"

His previous life's more than ten years of practical experience, along with over ten years of study and practice in this life, had given Duke a certain level of confidence. It was worth giving it his all.

If there was an opportunity, he'd count himself lucky. If not, he'd take it as training. His goal was clear, and he would not waver.

There was a moment of silence at the table. Mrs. Leah Rosenberg quietly finished her meal before picking up a napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth. She then looked up and said, "Duke, I respect your decision."

"I'll support you financially for now, but only for a limited period of time. You need to be self-sufficient after that."

"Thanks, Mom." Duke understood this was her way of showing support, even though she wasn't fully convinced about his path.

"Alright." Mrs. Leah stood up, her posture as elegant and disciplined as ever. "Finish your lunch, and then go write your script. I'll have a check ready for you in the afternoon."

As Duke finished his meal, he knew that his real challenge was just beginning. Hollywood was a battlefield where dreams were either made or crushed, and he was about to step right into the middle of it.