"Oops!"
Anne immediately realized her misstep, glancing up to scrutinize Anson's expression. Her features tightened with regret.
"...Sorry?"
Her reaction drew a laugh from Anson. "Relax, I'm not fragile like a porcelain doll. I was just surprised to see the two of you in the same frame."
Anne tilted her chin slightly, a trace of pride in her voice. "What? Ryan Phillippe and Jake Gyllenhaal appearing together isn't strange, but Claire Danes and me is?"
Anson chuckled. "No, not really. It's easy to imagine pretty boys competing for the same role, but you and Claire Danes? That's a curveball."
Anne caught the undertone in his words and her eyes widened in mock offense. "Wait, so she's the 'talented actress,' and I'm the 'pretty face'?"
Unfazed, Anson grinned broadly. "She's striking, and you're beautiful—two very different kinds of charm."
Beautiful?
Anne wasn't expecting that. Her heartbeat stumbled as she stole another glance at him, hastily changing the subject.
"If you saw how I looked during my first audition, you wouldn't say that."
"Last summer, I was filming The Princess Diaries 2. I had only my lunch break to rush over for the audition."
"Time was tight, so I couldn't even change out of the ridiculous puffy princess dress or take off the over-the-top wig. I barely had time to check my makeup."
"Before I walked into the room, I just made sure I didn't have any spinach or jam stuck in my teeth. Then I went in, praying for the best."
"You can imagine the scene. The casting director looked at me like I'd just descended from another planet, and one of the crew couldn't help but burst out laughing."
"Honestly, I was this close to digging a hole in the ground and hiding."
Her vivid storytelling painted the scene so well that Anson couldn't help but smile.
"If I could redo it, I'd schedule another time. But the casting director insisted it was their only available slot."
"What could I do?"
"I was just grateful I even managed to make it there during lunch."
"So, I sucked it up, resisted the urge to burst into laughter myself, took the script from them, and dove right into the scene."
Anson raised an eyebrow. "No warm-up?"
Anne shook her head.
"I think it was intentional. They handed me this ridiculously long monologue, at least five or six lines."
"God, it was like reading Shakespeare."
"But that turned out to be a blessing. It forced me to focus on the lines and forget about the absurd wig and dress. I didn't want to accidentally play a stuttering princess."
"I don't even remember how I got through it. By the time I left, my knees were so weak I could barely stand."
"But I really, really wanted that role. I knew I'd regret it if I didn't give it my all. So, I left everything on the table and walked out hoping I had no regrets."
Anne paused and glanced up at Anson cautiously.
"Sorry, I can't say which project it was…"
Anson laughed. In Hollywood, secrecy during auditions wasn't uncommon. "Don't worry. The media will leak the shortlist eventually."
"All I need to do is check TMZ."
Just like when Spider-Man 2 was casting.
Anne blinked, catching the self-deprecating humor, and chuckled along.
Anson smiled warmly. "Well, it seems like your first audition left an impression. They must have looked past the wig and dress to see the real you."
Anne: ?
Anson continued. "That's probably why you got a callback. Maybe they were drawn to the sincerity and vulnerability beneath the silly exterior. It could even be your edge over Claire."
Anne's smile grew brighter. "I hope so."
After a brief pause, she hesitated before asking, "So… you don't mind?"
Anson looked puzzled. "Mind what?"
Anne: …
Struggling to find the words, she finally muttered, "Jake…"
Trailing off mid-sentence, she watched Anson's face for a reaction.
Realization dawned on him, and he laughed. "No, no, not at all."
"Wait—you're not thinking of dropping the project just because Jake might be involved, are you?"
"Besides, it's not even certain he'll get the role. And even if he does, it shouldn't matter."
Anne blinked, unsure. "Really?"
"We're friends. A friend of a friend is a friend. A friend's enemy is my enemy. Shouldn't I support my friend unconditionally?"
"I don't approve of what he did, stabbing you in the back and then accusing you of overreacting. It's clear he doesn't see his own fault."
Anson said this with a calm smile, studying Anne closely.
Anne tilted her head. "What? Is there something on my face?"
His eyes curved into crescents. "So… you left the bar and followed me out, didn't you?"
Anne stammered incoherently, avoiding his gaze.
Anson's voice softened. "Thank you."
Startled, Anne looked up at him, her confusion evident.
Meeting her gaze, his sincerity shone through. "Thank you. I needed a friend's support—to remind me I'm not a total failure in Hollywood."
Anne quickly tried to reassure him.
Anson waved her off with a smile. "It's okay. It was just a fleeting thought."
"To be fair, I don't blame Jake. He had every reason to accept the audition invite. He didn't owe me a heads-up."
"Telling me would've been a sign of friendship; not telling me is just part of how things work here."
"I just needed clarity—to know I wasn't misjudging the situation or twisting it with my own insecurities. That's enough to let me move on and face this circus of fame with clear eyes."
"I don't hate Jake."
Anne was taken aback. "You don't?"
Anson's smile widened. "Life's too short to waste on hate. I'd rather invest my time and energy in the people I care about."
"Believe it or not, hate is exhausting. It's such a waste of life."
"Hollywood might not be the best place to make friends, but you know what? I've found a few."
Anne tilted her head skeptically. "Really? It's so hard to form genuine connections here. I mean real friends—not just movie colleagues or party acquaintances, but people who call you outside of work and actually hang out."
Anson nodded firmly. "Absolutely. Anne Hathaway."
Anne: …
Caught off guard, she stared at him, unsure of how to respond. But slowly, a smile crept across her lips.