制霸好莱坞

"Vilma's actor was replaced? A victim of the Broadway storm of rising stars." Jenny threw the magazine onto the dining table, "Congratulations, my first national magazine is actually US Weekly."

"Yes, I have to admit, you always surprise me." Judy's voice came through the phone, amused. "In general, Broadway news rarely makes it into national magazines. We expected this would at most make it into local gossip papers in New York, like the New York Daily News or New York Post. I didn't expect US Weekly to pick up on it. I bet they saw the buzz from the skyrocketing box office on Broadway and the discussions around you online."

Indeed, in the last month, Jennifer Jefferson's IMDB actor popularity had surged, and the number of posts on her fan forum had outpaced some big stars, with a highly engaged audience. This could only be attributed to the mysterious marketing strategy behind her rise. So far, the only official release had been her full name: Jennifer Jane Jefferson, which gave rise to her first semi-official nickname: JJJ. Aside from that, her resume, education, family life, and even her age were all shrouded in mystery.

Had it been the 1980s, without the internet, her passionate fans might have spiraled into temporary confusion before moving on with their lives. But now, in 2002, with the internet's presence everywhere, niche cultures could find a voice.

Musicals, once a niche art form compared to film and TV dramas, were now becoming more accessible thanks to the internet. Enthusiasts from small towns, once limited to annual tours, now had the ability to connect with others, share their passions, and build communities. The internet allowed for a slow but steady fan base expansion, enabling them to create a vibrant fan culture without shrinking away.

JJJ had quickly become the heartbeat of this new culture. Her fans, drawn from both "CSI" viewers and New York's theater crowd, were few but tightly knit. They frequently posted reviews and comparisons of her performances, building an almost cult-like dedication. At night, fans queued outside the old Shubert Theater, waiting for tickets, with numbers steadily growing.

This fandom didn't go unnoticed. To execute a "hunger marketing" strategy, Judy had reached out to several New York gossip magazines. She made it clear that they should avoid reporting Jenny's life story — it wasn't of any special interest — and that Jenny wasn't a tabloid target. She was just an exceptional new talent, with everything under control. The US Weekly piece, however, was an unexpected surprise.

"Thankfully, US Weekly isn't interested enough to send reporters for an exclusive investigation," Judy continued as she flipped through the magazine. "This is just a rehash of what the local papers have already covered. They've even used great photos—no overt negative spin. It's good for your image."

And it was. US Weekly used Jenny's role in Dietrich's replacement as a frame to highlight the fierce competition on Broadway. If anyone came across as the real fool in the article, it was the decision-makers at the Shubert Theater. The story subtly mocked Dietrich's ousting with a tone of irony, quoting some leaders from the theater saying, "Only the best survive on Broadway."

The two accompanying photos told the story clearly: one showed a dejected Dietrich on the street, deep in thought, while the other showed Jenny smiling, waving to the paparazzi. The captions contrasted sharply: "Poor silent loser," for Dietrich, and "Now you're the winner—how long can you stay on top?" for Jenny.

Normally, paparazzi photos don't do celebrities justice, but Jenny looked stunning even in a candid shot. Tall, slim, well-dressed — it had the aura of someone destined for the spotlight. Judy noted, "It's obvious why Dietrich lost out after seeing these two photos."

Apart from US Weekly, the entire casting controversy hadn't stirred much drama. Gossip sections in New York's Post, Weekly News, and Star had reported on the incident, but Dietrich had played it cool, claiming the change was purely personal — her contract had expired, and she wasn't renewing for reasons of her own.

The theater had tacitly supported this, revealing that they'd been considering a new Wilma for months and had already identified a candidate in Europe. They just hadn't finalized the contract.

"So, what do you think of Jennifer Jane Jefferson?"

That question seemed to pop up in every article, and its malicious intent was clear. However, Dietrich didn't take the opportunity to criticize Jenny. Instead, she gave a surprisingly glowing review: "She's a good, hard-working girl, simple and easy to like."

It was an uncharacteristically kind assessment, especially from someone who had just lost her role. But this only boosted Jenny's public image. Fans took the comment as confirmation of Jenny's warmth and professionalism, and it quickly circulated on the forums.

"Not surprising," Cesare remarked over lunch, "Dietrich probably feels guilty now that she's lost her job. She's trying to make up for her earlier behavior."

Jenny took a bite of her pasta, laughing lightly, "Do you think Dietrich's a bad person?"

"No," Cesare replied, "I think she's just desperate. She's worried about the future. If the competition is this fierce at the bottom, what's it like at the top? Is it cutthroat?"

"I'm not saying the competition isn't more brutal at the top," Jenny said. "But Dietrich's actions were driven by fear. If she loses her role, she's got nothing. In our world, one misstep and everything's gone."

Cesare nodded, "But once you hit the 20-million club, things change. At that level, the stakes aren't as high. It's not about fighting for roles anymore. At that point, it's about long-term stability."

"Are you trying to scare me?" Jenny teased, "Only two failed movie choices can shake your place in the 20-million club?"

Cesare laughed, "I'm just saying everyone deserves a second chance. But even at that level, the competition doesn't stop. You still have to fight for your spot."

Jenny laughed. "Well, tonight will tell. Ann Benson's debut as Wilma will be an interesting test, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I'm curious to see how it goes." Cesare gave her a knowing smile, "But do you think you'll be able to top Ann tonight?"

Jenny shrugged, "We'll see."

Cesare's expression became more serious. "I know Ann Benson is a pro. She's a star in the West End. You've had less training, but you've got raw talent. But, when it comes to stage presence, Ann's at a different level."

"Oh, so you have no confidence in me?" Jenny raised an eyebrow. "You think I'll lose to her tonight?"

"I'm not saying that," Cesare replied, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I'm just being realistic."

Jenny, feigning hurt, sighed dramatically, "Wow, I thought we were on the same team here."

Cesare wasn't fooled. "The question is, do you have confidence in yourself tonight?"

Jenny flashed a grin as she hopped into her car. "You'll see soon enough."

She closed the door behind her and resisted the urge to blow him a kiss — for Lillian's sake, she kept the teasing light. But inside, she couldn't help but feel a surge of victory. It was the first time in a while she felt she had the upper hand.

Later that Night, Brantley sat in the theater, excited for the afternoon show, noting the buzz about Ann Benson. His mind raced between loyalties to Broadway and his American pride, unsure of what he wanted to happen. Did he want to see Ann triumph, or did he hope Jenny would still shine?

As the lights dimmed and the show began, Brantley's heart skipped. Ann Benson's first scene was flawless, her voice and presence undeniable. She was a seasoned pro, no doubt about it. The crowd was electrified.

Jenny's fans would soon see the true test of her mettle. Tonight, the fight for the spotlight on Broadway would take on a whole new meaning.