Hollywood: The Greatest Showman

Chapter 40: Potential Investment

Since 1994, Vanity Fair has hosted the Oscar night, this carnival party has clearly surpassed the Oscars themselves, becoming the most important social event of the year, attracting attention from all over the world. Accompanying this, the Sunset Tower Hotel, as the venue, has become another landmark in Los Angeles, and countless movie enthusiasts will come here to visit, trying to catch a glimpse of the group of stars gathering behind the scenes.

The modern atmosphere conveyed by the combination of bright red and piano black decoration style, along with the soft yellow lighting, fills the hotel lobby with a lazy and intimate atmosphere. People on the burgundy sofa chairs on the left are engaged in quiet conversations, making one speculate whether a Hollywood giant star is waiting for their room key. Amidst the tranquility is a hint of restlessness, youthfulness, and vigor, even tinged with a touch of naivety, unable to feel too much depth, yet enough to make young people feel excited and exhilarated.

Obviously, apart from the hotel's own characteristics, the reason why the Sunset Tower Hotel can become the venue for Oscar night is mainly due to its unique geographical location. Following Sunset Boulevard straight east for less than a mile, you can reach the famous Hollywood Boulevard—where landmarks like the Walk of Fame, Kodak Theater, and Chinese Theater are all within sight.

Antony Cliff, thirty-six years old this year, as the lobby manager, stands beside the counter, taking in the whole scene. Every guest entering or leaving is clear to him, ensuring that every aspect of the service is accurate and in place. Then he saw the group that had just entered the gate.

The man walking in the front was tall and slender, dressed in a light blue shirt with a light gray pullover sweater, exuding a hint of elegance amidst casualness. His slightly curled short hair hung casually over his forehead, his right hand in his pocket, as if he had just stepped out of the Cambridge University yearbook, with an air of academia and nobility evident in his every move.

Following behind the man were porters carrying a deep brown wicker handmade suitcase and a hat box, the details revealing that Antony couldn't help but straighten his posture—it was obviously a British aristocrat.

Behind the man, a boyish-looking man dressed in a pullover hoodie and jeans was curiously observing the hotel's decor; another man in a work jacket and white T-shirt was casually surveying the surroundings, seemingly judging his own situation.

They... should be actors. Antony made a judgment. Los Angeles is never short of actors, from extras to top actors, there are countless.

At this moment, the man in the front stopped his gaze slowly and politely scanning the surroundings. Antony's heart couldn't help but tighten slightly. He could sense that the man was probably examining the paintings hanging in the lobby. True sophistication is often discerned from the small details of paintings, vases, tables, and the like.

At the same time, the boyish man also stopped, standing aside; the man in the white T-shirt seemed not to notice and continued walking forward. After walking several steps, he finally came back to his senses and called out, "It's on the fourteenth floor, we can go straight up."

Antony couldn't help but be somewhat surprised. So, was that man an actor too? But he couldn't recall any actor's name that matched.

In the blink of an eye, Antony made a judgment and decision, stepping forward quickly, stopping three steps diagonally in front of the man, "Good afternoon, welcome to the Sunset Tower Hotel. Is there anything I can assist you with?"

This was the first time Renly truly entered the heart of Los Angeles, stepping into the City of Angels, into the heart of Hollywood. The slight excitement amidst unfamiliarity made his steps light and brisk. In a daze, he had the illusion of attending the Oscars night at this moment, that strange and unfamiliar emotion made him involuntarily stop.

However, the surging emotions in his heart did not show. Whether in his past life or this life, the education he received was to keep his emotions concealed. He maintained a polite and gentlemanly demeanor in public; moreover, he had attended countless aristocratic social events since childhood, so dealing with such situations naturally came easily to him.

Upon hearing the greeting, Renly withdrew his gaze, politely nodding in response, his eyes falling on the other's nametag, "Antony, I'm here for the 'The Pacific' interview event. Am I late?"

Politeness didn't mean closeness, but his brief and concise response conveyed sufficient information, with a hint of focus amidst casualness. A simple answer revealed completely different qualities and depths, one of the stark differences between British and American actor cultures.

"No, you're not late." Antony showed no neglect, still maintaining courtesy, and gestured invitingly, "The makeup team of the crew just arrived not long ago, they're on the fourteenth floor now. Allow me to lead the way for you. Mr...?"

Antony left a blank, and Renly filled it in, "Hall."

"Mr. Hall." Antony smiled and said, then walked ahead to lead the way.

Ramie and James looked at each other bewilderedly, not understanding what had just happened. Out of the blue, Antony had proactively approached them with friendliness, and even led them all the way to the fourteenth floor, arriving at the three rooms rented by the "The Pacific" crew—one for makeup, one for interviews. After delivering them to their destination, Antony turned and left. Such treatment was definitely something only VIPs could enjoy.

After tipping, Renly turned back and saw the puzzled expressions on Ramie and James' faces, "What's going on? Why did they personally escort us up here?"

Renly shrugged lightly with a faint smile, "You can understand it as excellent service from the hotel, or perhaps, the allure of the tip made them willingly put in the effort." This explanation made James suddenly enlightened, while Ramie felt something was amiss but couldn't articulate it. Seeing Renly already entering the room, he hurriedly followed.

Antony entered the elevator, and the porter beside him couldn't help but ask after holding back for a while, "Tony, was that someone important just now? Why did you personally escort him up?"

Antony flashed a big smile, "Even if he isn't now, he definitely will be in the future." It was an investment. Although his job didn't directly relate to the actors, as the lobby manager, he was a hub of insider information. The more important people he knew, the more valuable his job became.

In his view, Mr. Hall just now had the potential to become a superstar. Although their conversation was brief, his intuition told him so, so he made a decisive choice.

The porter suddenly realized, but then asked puzzledly, "But what if he amounts to nothing in the future?"

"Then I haven't lost anything." Antony couldn't help but chuckle. The porter thought seriously for a moment before truly understanding. Building connections was indeed a highly profound skill.

"At least he's a generous tipper." The porter felt the ten-dollar bill in his pocket, usually it was five dollars at most. The suitcase he just carried was so light, yet he received double the usual income. Quite a deal.

Renly and the others entered the room to find a lively scene. The room they entered was the makeup room, and the table in the hall was filled with various makeup products. Several makeup artists were scattered around the sofa, preparing for their work eagerly. Next to them were three chairs, and hairstylists were adjusting their tools. As almost the entire crew consisted of men, this room looked refreshingly neat.

Passing through the hallway to the bedroom, they could hear several people chatting lively. They should be other actors preparing to participate in the promotion. It seemed that quite a few people had arrived early. Renly and the others weren't considered early at all. However, after looking around, they didn't see Tom Hanks or Steven Spielberg.

"You three, two of you start with makeup, and one goes to the next room to change clothes." The crew's chief production manager, Darin Levitt, walked over, his gaze falling on James, not conflicting with Renly, but also not communicating with him. "Your agents didn't come with you, right?" After confirming, all three shook their heads in unison. They were all small fries, even if they had agents, the agents wouldn't be with them every step of the way. At most, giving instructions over the phone would be considered adequate. "Then take a look at this framework for questions yourselves. If there are any issues, go ask Gary before the interview. Otherwise, if there are any mistakes, you'll be responsible."

Gary Goetzman, the executive producer of "The Pacific," followed the crew throughout the shooting.

Renly didn't care about Darin's indifference, turning to the other two, "Then I'll go change clothes first." After a long flight, it was best to take a bath now while there was still time, wash away the dust, otherwise, the first official meeting with the media would leave a bad impression.

"No problem." James readily agreed, and Ramie nodded affirmatively.

Less than two minutes after entering the room, Renly turned and walked out again—next door was a dressing room specifically for them. After closing the door, turning around, Renly saw a young lady walking out of the room at the end of the corridor at the same time. That room seemed to be the resting room for the interview media.

The young lady was tall and slender, her thin and slim figure exuded a decadent and chic temperament under the faint light and shadow of the corridor. The neat short hair covered half of her face as it hung slightly down, revealing a glimpse of an earring hidden in the strands, which seemed to resemble a skull. She wore a white T-shirt with black ripped jeans, a simple and straightforward outfit that outlined a rebellious and stubborn demeanor beneath the studded leather jacket.

The young lady raised her right hand and scratched her hair vigorously. Turning her head, she saw another stranger in the corridor. The smoky makeup concealed her eyes' brightness, revealing a halo of light. A smile crept up her lips, "Renly Hall, long time no see!"

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A/N: Hey, this novel is still waiting for some love from you guys. How about a little challenge? If you rate this novel within a day of this Chapter's release, I'll reward you with two extra Chapters. What do you say?

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