Made In Hollywood

The soothing sound of piano music echoed through the café, making the atmosphere even quieter. Duke sat by the window, slowly putting down his coffee cup, calmly looking at Lovett sitting across from him.

Duke hadn't expected his former agent to be so persistent. He had politely declined Lovett's proposal over the phone just yesterday, yet today, Lovett had tracked him all the way to New York, exuding sincerity. There wasn't the slightest hint of the man who, just a year ago, had declared that Duke had no future in Hollywood.

Though a sense of satisfaction flickered in his heart, Duke didn't show it on his face. He observed Lovett, who, in turn, was also watching him.

From Lovett's perspective, the person sitting across from him was a mystery. They had worked together for five years, but Duke Rosenberg had never shown any potential, no matter how he looked at it. As for his so-called directing talent, Lovett had seen two experimental films Duke had made, which were chaotic and utterly incomprehensible.

It wasn't just Lovett's opinion. At CAA, there was a strict review process for giving up a client, and dropping Duke Rosenberg had been the consensus of the entire agency. But now, it was clear they had all misjudged him.

Now, Lovett had to correct the mistake CAA had made.

Although Lovett's trip to New York was partly due to orders from Michael Ovitz, he was also here willingly.

This week was halfway over, and after just three days, the box office of *Speed*, which had been hovering around $66 million last weekend, was now on the verge of reaching $80 million in North America!

And this was only the third week of the film's wide release. Even with the fierce competition of the summer movie season, *Speed* would surely stay in theaters for a while longer. There was even a chance that its North American box office could break the $100 million mark.

A fresh new director, just 22 years old, whose first feature film could gross over $100 million?

Just the thought of it was enough for Lovett to swallow his pride. He would even slap himself in the face if necessary, as long as he could re-sign Duke under his agency.

"Duke, I earnestly ask you to seriously reconsider my offer."

The professional façade Lovett usually wore had vanished, replaced by pure sincerity. His gaze, fixed on Duke, was almost fervent. "CAA is the biggest agency in Hollywood, controlling half of the talent market. We can plan your future, and I can promise that the resources at my disposal will be prioritized for you."

These were tempting conditions. Lovett then pulled out CAA's trump card: "Most importantly, CAA can provide package deals for your projects. You'll only need to focus on directing, and CAA will handle everything else."

"That sounds less like a director and more like a puppet of CAA, doesn't it?" Duke interjected.

Lovett hesitated, suddenly realizing that there was some truth to what Duke said.

"Lovett, I'm just a small-time director."

Duke picked up his coffee cup, took another sip, and then, under Lovett's earnest gaze, said, "I'm only just starting out."

"That's why you need to join CAA even more!" Lovett quickly responded.

Duke slowly shook his head. "What CAA is best at is exactly what I dislike the most."

"The package deals?" Lovett quickly caught on.

"Yes." Duke nodded, his voice calm. "As the leader in entertainment agencies, it's only natural for CAA to want control over everything, to manage their actors, directors, producers, and even their projects. But I, too, have a strong desire for control. I won't hand over my work for others to manipulate."

He had once sought out CAA, but his purpose had been clear: CAA was a tool and stepping stone for him to achieve his directorial dreams. Once he had the means, he would discard CAA. As a director, Duke had a strong aversion to CAA's package services.

Spielberg, with his relatively mild temperament, could join CAA, but a director as domineering as James Cameron never had, and never would. Cameron had always resisted their package deals. While Duke's personality and accomplishments were far from Cameron's, he had taken a crucial first step and didn't want his future film sets to be under CAA's control.

In fact, all directors with strong control tendencies were naturally at odds with CAA.

"Duke, please give it some more thought."

Lovett wouldn't make any promises about giving up the package deal, as it was a core strategy for CAA. Moreover, Duke's current status didn't warrant CAA making such concessions. "Joining CAA can only help your future development."

"No need to think it over." Duke gave a firm answer. "CAA won't change for me, so I refuse."

At this point, there was no need to continue the conversation. After exchanging a few polite words, Lovett left the café first.

Duke finished his coffee and left the café, walking along the crowded streets of Brooklyn toward his hotel.

He wasn't worried about any retaliation from CAA. Many in Hollywood chose to sign with CAA, but just as many rejected the agency. If CAA took revenge on everyone who refused them, they wouldn't be able to conduct regular business.

As Duke reached the hotel entrance, he noticed a crowd gathered outside. They held up posters of *Speed* and occasionally shouted out the names of Keanu Reeves or Uma Thurman. But as the film's director, Duke walked right past them and into the hotel unnoticed.

At this time, directors—especially those like him, with only one film under their belt—rarely drew attention. Duke didn't mind. It wasn't something worth getting upset over.

Inside the hotel lobby, Naomi Watts was sitting with Nancy Josephson. Naomi's blue-green eyes glanced through the glass doors at the crowd outside, a hint of envy and jealousy flickering in them. She had also appeared in *Speed*, yet her treatment compared to the lead actors was worlds apart.

Fame was something every actor who came to Hollywood dreamed of, and Naomi was no exception. Otherwise, she wouldn't have been struggling to make it in Los Angeles.

"He's back." Naomi stood up and waved when she saw Duke. "Duke!"

Hearing the familiar voice, Duke turned his head. "Hello, Naomi."

"Do you have a moment?"

Seeing Duke's puzzled expression, Naomi continued, "My agent, Nancy— you've met her—wants to talk to you."

"Your agent?"

Duke quickly guessed her intentions. Hollywood was indeed a place that only chased after success.

Five minutes later, Duke and Nancy Josephson were seated in a booth in the hotel's second-floor café. Naomi had been sent away by her agent, having served her role as the introducer.

"You want to be my agent?" Duke asked, looking seriously at Nancy.

It was just as he suspected. She got straight to the point.

"ICM can offer you the best services. And I am the future head of ICM…"

Before Nancy could finish, Duke raised a hand to interrupt. "I know a lot about ICM and its standing in the industry. To be frank, Nancy, I just met with someone from CAA."

"I won't deny that CAA holds more resources," Nancy said, clearly prepared for this. "But don't forget, they also have far more well-known directors and actors. Even within CAA, you would face fierce competition."

"That's true!"

It was a well-known fact, and Duke didn't deny it. After thinking for a while, he slowly said, "I also have a few conditions. These are non-negotiable if I'm to work with any agent. Otherwise, I'd rather go without one."

Nancy gestured for him to continue.

"First, I strongly dislike agency package deals. I don't want my film sets interfered with by the agency. Second, the agency should not interfere with my private life. I'm not interested in being anyone's puppet. Third, I might sometimes make decisions that the agency won't understand. Fourth…"

As Duke continued listing his conditions, Nancy's face grew darker. According to Duke, the agency would be relegated to the role of a basic service provider.

Many of these conditions were just for show. Negotiating with an agency was like bargaining—ask for the moon and settle for less. But, just as with CAA, Duke wasn't going to let an agency meddle too much in his work or life. He wanted clear boundaries. He wasn't a star painstakingly cultivated by an agency; he paid them a commission, and they were to provide necessary services in return.

At the moment, he didn't have much leverage, so if Nancy didn't want to negotiate, he could simply walk away. After all, he wasn't competing with other directors for scripts or projects. What he needed most was a competent negotiator.

"I need some time to think…" Nancy said after a long pause.

"I need time as well…" Duke didn't hide his thoughts. "And I need to learn more about ICM and you personally."

Both agents and directors took time to evaluate each other. Just as studios rigorously assessed every film before greenlighting it, signing an agent also required careful consideration.

Duke wasn't interested in CAA, and Nancy Josephson from ICM could be a potential option. After returning to his room, Duke called Robin Grand to gather more information about her.

One particular detail confirmed that Nancy was a capable agent: she was currently packaging a sitcom for Warner Bros. The tentative title? *Friends*.

Duke now held Nancy in higher regard.

However, with those extreme conditions he had laid out, it was uncertain whether she would still be interested in him. Duke simply believed that she could indeed be placed in the category of highly capable agents.