制霸好莱坞

After the Christmas and New Year holidays, Jenny and Cesare signed a labor contract. She also applied to join the Screen Actors Guild (SAG). The requirements for joining SAG are relatively straightforward. If you're a leading actor, you can apply after working just one day on a SAG-affiliated project, provided your salary meets the minimum standard. Extras can also qualify by working more than three days on a SAG contract production.

However, the reality is that joining SAG isn't as easy as it sounds. Take Jenny's colleague Jessica, for example. When she first arrived in Hollywood, she worked on several unpaid student films—productions that weren't SAG-affiliated and had no chance of release. Soon, she realized that these projects wouldn't advance her career. She set her sights on securing small TV roles, preferably ones with a few lines. But because SAG requires that a certain number of extras in its contracted projects be union members, non-SAG actors rarely get even minor speaking roles unless a scene requires a massive crowd.

For those aspiring to land speaking roles, the competition is even tougher. Most movies and TV shows source their supporting actors directly from SAG or AFTRA (the American Federation of Television and Radio Artists). Casting directors rarely consider non-union actors unless they have direct connections. Even after working for over a year at Hollywood Star, Jessica had only managed to land a few extra roles—never enough to qualify for SAG membership. Her manager was currently trying to get her into commercial and magazine print work in hopes of booking a SAG-contracted ad, but opportunities like that were scarce, as those roles also tend to be filled through union recommendations.

In Los Angeles—especially in Hollywood—handsome men and beautiful women are everywhere, but only a select few make it into the industry. Many give up after a year or two of struggle, while others become lost in an endless cycle of disappointment. Among those who do manage to join SAG, only a tiny fraction ever establish stable acting careers. The rest spend their time playing background characters and barely qualify for SAG's health insurance benefits. Still, even being a union member is considered an accomplishment by industry outsiders. From their perspective, Jenny's rapid career progression was nothing short of miraculous.

Because Alex had memories of her past life, she had decided early on that she would never join SAG as an extra. In her era, once you became an extra, you were stuck in that role for life. The transition from background actor to lead was extremely rare, and even the most talented individuals could take years—if not decades—to make the leap. Instead, she aimed to break into the industry through high-end theater. But luck was on her side. Before she even had to embark on that difficult journey, Dave offered her a shortcut into SAG.

Her first job, "Vanita" on CSI, had already made her eligible for union membership. As the lead actress in that episode, she met all SAG's criteria: the production was a SAG contract project, and her $5,000 paycheck easily exceeded the minimum pay requirement.

But at the time, Jenny didn't join SAG.

Because… joining required a $3,000 membership fee, and she simply didn't have the money.

Now, with her paycheck from "Chicago" deposited and a healthy bank balance of over $20,000, she finally put the matter on her agenda. Becoming a SAG member would entitle her to benefits, protection from wage disputes, and industry support. However, the most crucial advantage—access to better acting opportunities—was irrelevant to her. With Cesare's backing, she had already surpassed the entry-level roles typically offered through SAG connections. Even for a supporting role like Kitty in "Chicago," the director likely had someone in mind long before casting calls went out. Given Jenny's current trajectory, most union-endorsed opportunities wouldn't interest her. If a casting inquiry did come through, Cesare would screen it before she even saw it.

Reluctantly, Jenny paid the $3,000 fee, and with that, she became an official member of SAG. But now, she turned her attention to her next financial concern: income. "Chicago" paid weekly, and assuming no complications, she stood to earn $140,000 over the contract's 26-week duration. After taxes and commissions, she would take home around $60,000.

Previously, as a waitress, she had paid little in taxes since tips weren't counted as taxable income. Now, as an actress earning a substantial salary, she would be subject to the U.S.'s high tax rates—losing at least 20% to taxes and another 15% to her agency. That didn't even include other expenses, such as hiring an accountant or potentially employing a PR firm, as Cesare had hinted James might arrange for her.

In short, while Jenny was earning more, she was also spending more. Thankfully, Cesare's company covered her hotel expenses through March. Even after that, she could continue staying at a discounted internal rate, keeping her costs manageable.

Because of all these formalities and financial matters, Jenny remained busy throughout the holiday season and barely saw Lillian. As for Cesare, he had returned to Los Angeles after signing the contract and was swamped with work. Even as one of his most important clients, Jenny rarely saw him.

December and January were peak Broadway seasons, with packed rehearsal rooms and nonstop activity. Jenny had yet to rehearse with the full "Chicago" troupe, so James arranged a rigorous training schedule for her. Beyond refining her basic skills, she worked intensively on perfecting each song and dance routine. James, ever the perfectionist, observed her rehearsals with a critical eye—so focused on professionalism that he never flirted or joked with her.

Jenny noticed a trend among the entertainment industry elites she had encountered—Cesare, Rob, Agata—they were all perfectionists. Over time, she had grown accustomed to their relentless pursuit of excellence, even finding satisfaction in their high expectations. She wasn't afraid of being pushed to her limits—if anything, she feared not being pushed hard enough.

Especially now, when her reputation was on the line. If audiences judged her "Chicago" performance as inferior to Renée's, she would be seen as nothing more than a hyped-up industry plant. For Jenny, this was about pride, not money.

She trained relentlessly, dedicating three hours daily to vocal practice in the performance space. When not exhausted, she continued dancing, maximizing her use of the space's time manipulation feature. She was in a near-manic state of focus, pushing her body so hard that she even allowed herself to eat steak—something she normally avoided—to replenish the calories she burned.

Under this grueling regimen, James grew increasingly satisfied with her progress. Finally, at the end of January, he led her into the rehearsal hall to introduce her to the troupe.

"This is your new Roxie," he announced.

A murmur spread through the room. People in the back craned their necks to get a better look. Jenny felt like a transfer student walking into a new classroom—met with curiosity, skepticism, and, in some cases, jealousy.

However, theater troupes were tighter-knit than film crews. Many of the veteran members had worked together for years, and while some might resent her, open hostility was unlikely. Soon, several performers introduced themselves.

"I'm Roxie from Group B. You can call me Amanda."

"I'm Amos from Group A—your husband," another actor joked.

As rehearsals began, Jenny quickly proved herself. Thanks to her intense preparation, she executed every move effortlessly, earning the respect of her castmates. Yet, social dynamics were predictable—the friendliest were male actors and Black actresses, while the "blonde white actress" clique remained cold toward her.

During lunch, Dietrich approached her with a grin. "Looks like we're working together again! Exciting, right?"

Though she seemed friendly, Jenny remembered Dietrich's attitude during auditions and remained cautious. "Yeah, I really didn't expect this."

Dietrich leaned in conspiratorially. "By the way, sorry about the audition. James asked me to pressure you a little. Guess I didn't do a great job, though."

Jenny smiled. "No, you did great. Honestly, I was almost intimidated."

Dietrich laughed. "Wow, you should win an Oscar for that performance."

She then invited Jenny to a cast party, and Jenny, realizing it was best to integrate early, agreed.

Dietrich winked. "I'm looking forward to it."