Hollywood Road

As night fell, Robert Downey Jr.'s Beverly Hills mansion was lit up brilliantly, filled with guests in the vast backyard garden. Bottles of champagne were brought near the rectangular swimming pool, which was the center of the party, and waiters poured the bubbly liquid into glasses to be distributed around every corner of the garden.

This was a celebration party to honor Robert Downey Jr. for landing the role of Tony Stark in "Iron Man" with an impressive salary of eight million dollars.

Friends like Murphy, who wouldn't dream of missing such an event, congratulated Downey. After the pleasantries, James Franco was tucked away in a corner whispering with Lily Collins, while Seth Rogen and Jonah Hill sat at a small round table by the pool, busily discussing their new film project.

Murphy, having arrived alone, found himself with nothing particular to do, so he pulled up a chair next to an empty table beside Seth Rogen to listen to his conversation with Jonah Hill about the new film's preparations.

However, Murphy didn't interject casually. Having chosen Seth Rogen as a director, he trusted him enough to give him space unless a severe mistake was made. Rogen's submitted plan had also greatly satisfied him.

Despite his unassuming and humorous appearance, the Canadian was extremely diligent and talented.

Robert Downey Jr. was undeniably the star of the evening, surrounded by many guests. Murphy even spotted Avi Arad from Marvel Comics, Kevin Feige from Marvel Studios, and the iconic Stan Lee with his trademark sunglasses.

Due to previous disagreements, Murphy wasn't on good terms with the Marvel crew and had no intention of greeting them. This was Downey's home party, and any conflict would only embarrass the host.

"Hey, Murphy."

A tall blonde woman approached him with a familiarity that suggested they were old acquaintances. "I've been wanting to meet you, but since Downey was too busy to introduce us, I had to come over myself."

"Being approached by Gwyneth Paltrow..." Murphy stood to shake hands with the future co-star of Downey, "I'm sure every man here is envious."

Gwyneth Paltrow covered her mouth, giggling, "I heard you and Downey are close?"

Murphy shrugged, "We're good friends."

They weren't acquainted beyond this, and Paltrow's approach was likely to network for future collaborations. After all, connections in Hollywood were woven gradually, not hastily cobbled together when needed.

"It's quite an accomplishment to direct a movie with a two-hundred-million-dollar budget," Paltrow said charmingly. "Don't forget to invite me to your celebration party."

"I won't," Murphy promised, smiling. "Congratulations on landing the female lead."

"Don't mention the female lead." Paltrow seemed discontent, disappointment evident on her face. "Seeing Downey's salary compared to mine, I'm almost ready to cry. His salary is five times mine; Marvel Studios is so unfair."

Murphy just smiled at her complaint without commenting. The large disparity in pay between male and female actors was a common industry practice, where male actors often earned twice as much as their equally famous female counterparts.

Gwyneth Paltrow's considerably lower salary compared to Downey's reflected her market draw. Although an Oscar winner, she lacked any major box office hits and had recently relied on maintaining visibility through fashion.

After a brief chat, Paltrow excused herself politely to network further. Such slightly formal parties were always about networking.

Murphy returned to his seat, ordered three glasses of champagne, and had two delivered to Seth Rogen and Jonah Hill, while he scanned the gathering listlessly.

The garden was lively, with Downey as the perfect host and Paltrow as the bustling leading lady. Regular partygoers like Jonah Hill were tied up in discussions, and James Franco was occupied with Lily Collins...

Members of their group, known as the Stanton followers, were relatively subdued, unlike Meryl Streep, rumored to cameo as Tony Stark's mother in the film. Contrary to her public image and media portrayal as a maternal figure, she was lively and sociable at the party, a true networking expert.

"What's up?" Rogen and Hill joined Murphy at his table, Hill nodding towards Streep, "Got a thing for her?"

Murphy glanced away, lifting his champagne glass, "Do I look that bored?"

"You really are bored," Hill seemed to have saved up his words for this moment. "Meryl Streep's not boring, though. Despite her age, I heard her appetite hasn't diminished at all…"

"What?" Murphy was confused.

Seeing his puzzled expression, Hill whispered mysteriously, "You didn't know? Her gossip flies around Hollywood."

Murphy shook his head; he had never heard any rumors about Streep, whose public persona had always been that of a devoted wife and mother.

Noticing

 Murphy's genuine ignorance, Hill coughed and said slowly, "Rumor has it that when Streep worked with Jack Nicholson, they had a rather scandalous encounter in a car on set…"

Murphy shrugged, uninterested in pursuing the topic further.

Across the pool, at a small round table sat a man and a young beautiful woman who looked either like a model or an actress, with the man dressed like a typical entertainment agent. Their eyes occasionally scanned Murphy's table.

"That's Murphy Stanton," the agent informed the young woman, "Amy, the audition for Lois Lane is next week, and he's key…"

Watching from across the twenty-foot-wide pool, Amy Adams nodded. It was Murphy Stanton who had outright rejected her.

"If you want this role," the agent continued, "you have to impress him."

Amy Adams knew that impressing a director of Murphy Stanton's caliber wasn't as simple as physical allure. Directors like him, if they desired, had access to any beautiful actress.

To catch Murphy Stanton's attention, she needed to make a memorable impression, or her efforts would be in vain.

"Go on, Amy," her agent encouraged, "Show him your best."

Determined, Amy Adams stood up, looked across the pool at Murphy engaged in conversation, oblivious to her presence.

She needed to make him remember her.

Without hesitation, Amy kicked off her high heels and dove into the pool, creating a crisp splash that drew everyone's attention.

"Wow..." Rogen noted, "A beauty just took a dive."

Murphy turned to see a blonde woman rise from the water, her hair drenched and clinging to her back, her light dress soaked through, revealing her skin under the bright lights, particularly noticeable were her distinctly prominent nipples.

"What's she doing?" Hill observed, noticing the woman seemed to be looking their way, he jokingly pointed to his nose, "Maybe she's into me?"

"She'd be into you, a pig?" Rogen scoffed mercilessly.

Their usual banter didn't bother Hill, who pointed across the pool, "Look, she's coming this way."

The area around the pool buzzed with whispers as most guests gathered to watch the unfolding scene.

"What's going on?" Downey approached the pool upon hearing the news, shook his head after a glance, and his wife Susan Downey sighed, "Some actress making a play for Murphy."

In the pool, Amy Adams wiped water from her face. Seeing Murphy watching her, she moved through the chest-deep water, making her way toward him under the gaze of the crowd.

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