制霸好莱坞

"It should be a kind of talent." Agata took a sip of her after-meal coffee. "I mean, it's true that her basic skills still have many flaws, far from solid. You could easily pick out a dozen shortcomings, but when she performs, you don't notice them at all. It can only be described as passion. The intensity of her performance overshadows everything."

"That's exactly what we lack," Rob agreed. "In fact, that kind of talent is the rarest in the entire industry."

"But it's hard to categorize her as an explosive actor," Agata gestured toward Jenny. "Or an experiential genius. We've all seen those actors with strong personal temperaments—Johnny Depp, River Phoenix—but Jennifer is completely different. You could even say she has a dual personality. Normally, she's plain, inconspicuous, making you question your own judgment, Rob—"

Rob chuckled. "But when she gets into character, it's a completely different story."

"Exactly." Agata nodded. "I saw her performance in CSI, and now I'm curious about how she handled Vanita and Roxy. You know, these two roles are somewhat similar, yet she portrayed them entirely differently."

Jenny, who had been quietly listening, was finally pulled into the conversation. After her audition, the theater had no immediate plans for her, so Rob had invited her to dinner at his home. His good friend Agata was also there.

During after-dinner drinks, Rob and Agata were discussing Jenny's "amazing talent." She could only listen with a guilty smile. Their industry expertise was undeniable, and their critiques of her performance were so precise that Jenny felt exposed.

"Vanita and Roxy might both seem like arrogant and beautiful characters, but their differences are quite distinct," Jenny explained. "Vanita is intelligent and elegant—she's strong, making it easy for the audience to forgive her crimes. People tend to admire the strong. Roxy, on the other hand, is ignorant and vain—she's weak, incapable of earning audience sympathy. They appreciate her talent, just as lawyer Billy does, but they also recognize her flaws and shake their heads at her. As a product of her time, Roxy evokes a certain pity. So, in playing Vanita, I had to be more restrained, while for Roxy, I had to be more extroverted and exaggerated."

Agata and Rob exchanged a look, then nodded in agreement. Rob shook his head, smiling. "I have no idea where you come up with these theories, Jenny. You just graduated from high school, yet you talk like a top UCLA drama student."

"And her learning speed," Agata added, her voice looser from the wine she had earlier. "It puzzles me. To be honest, Jennifer, I've taught students more naturally talented than you. Even now, I don't think your vocal range or technical skills surpass my best students. But your progress—it's astonishing. Rob, can you believe it? She corrected her vocal habits and restructured her muscle control in just five days. If I hadn't witnessed it myself, I would've dismissed it as impossible. Usually, it takes students three to four months of dedicated practice to even begin such a change, and then another four months to solidify it. But for you, it was as effortless as eating Cheetos—just a few clicks, and everything was different."

Jenny knew this was the effect of her "golden finger." Unlike Agata's students, she had an urgent need to perfect her technique and the stamina to practice far beyond normal limits. While others had to pace themselves for vocal cord health, she could push herself without fear. So, this wasn't about natural talent—it was about discipline and relentless effort.

Of course, she couldn't explain this to Agata. Jenny took a sip of soda and smiled. "Maybe it has to do with my habits. I like to fully analyze things before doing them. The hardest part of learning a new skill is understanding and deconstructing it. Once I grasp the foundation, the rest is just execution."

Rob nodded. "That explains why Cesare put you in a musical. He must've recognized this about you. A good agent doesn't just negotiate contracts—he also nurtures an artist's growth. Since you learn through deconstruction, performing in a musical for months will deepen your understanding of storytelling. When you eventually transition to film, you'll know how to maintain emotional continuity, avoiding the common pitfall of disjointed performances. Compared to playing a supporting role in a film, a musical lead may pay less, but it's a better long-term investment for an actress like you."

Jenny found their insights invaluable. Their advice, though indirect, provided her with a clearer career trajectory. She was far from perfect, still reliant on her "golden finger," but she needed to transform those advantages into real, sustainable skills.

She also understood that Rob and Agata wouldn't invest in a stranger for no reason. Cesare's connection might have opened the door, but her conversation had secured their interest.

The truth was, in the high-end director circles, talent alone wasn't enough. Connections mattered. For instance, even Cesare's influence couldn't land her the lead in "Titanic." But if she gained the appreciation of directors like James Cameron, she'd have a serious edge over competitors. And who was Cameron more likely to favor—an actress he could have insightful discussions with, or someone he had no personal rapport with?

If she could establish relationships with five or six top directors, Cesare's role in her career would diminish. But that was a long-term goal. Right now, she still needed him.

Rob, a future star director, was a stroke of luck for her. They had known each other early in his career, and he was under tremendous pressure. Jenny seized every chance to boost his confidence in "Chicago," even making bold claims like, "I think it could win Best Picture at the Oscars." Rob thought she was exaggerating, but he clearly enjoyed her enthusiasm.

"You must come to the Christmas party," Rob insisted when they said goodbye. "You should enjoy the holiday. It's probably your only chance for a break in a while."

Since Broadway's busiest season extended through the holidays, Jenny knew she'd be tied up with rehearsals after Christmas. She had no time or money to return to L.A. or travel. If not for Rob's invitation, she would've spent Christmas Eve alone in the performing arts space.

Agata's farewell was more practical. "You'd better get along with the troupe. Your sudden arrival will ruffle feathers. Be prepared to show a few more tricks up your sleeve, just like with your vocal skills. Hopefully, I'll hear good news when I return from Honolulu."

Unlike Rob, who had no vacation plans, Agata was heading to Hawaii with her family until late January. Jenny smiled wryly. "I'm not too confident about that part."

"As long as you're good enough, everything will change after the first performance." Agata's tone wasn't entirely reassuring, but Jenny understood the message.

On Christmas morning, Cesare called with good news: "The contract has been sent to the CAA office. Four thousand dollars a week—not too high, but I left room for a raise after three months, depending on attendance and reviews."

For Broadway, that wasn't a huge salary, but for Jenny, it was more than enough. "What's the contract period? A year?"

"Two years," Cesare said. "But you're only required to perform six months each year, exclusively as Roxy."

Before Jenny could ask why, he added, "I know you'll have questions, but trust me."

Jenny smiled. "I'd fight to the death for a role in a musical—why wouldn't I trust you? By the way, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas," Cesare replied. "Lillian and I are flying to New York today. I'll take you to the troupe to sign the contract soon. Wait for my call."

Jenny had no other plans, except for Rob's party that night. And compared to a paycheck and a step up in her career, Christmas presents didn't matter much at all.