When Andrew O'Connell called Anson, Anson was skateboarding, with his phone tucked away in his pants pocket, completely unaware of the vibration.
In his past life, due to a weak constitution as a child and generally poor health, Anson had developed a habit of regular exercise. Though he wasn't an expert in any particular sport, he would try everything. Unfortunately, as ti went on, he found less and less ti for these activities.
Only after starting work did he realize how exhausting life could be.
Ti wasn't the issue—if you squeezed, you could always find so. But the problem was that after finally carving out a bit of ti, all you wanted to do was lie down and not move.
Gradually, those habits faded away, and all his interests and hobbies were tucked away in a corner, forgotten.
As a result, life beca nothing but work, work, work. Even during rest, there was no real release of pressure, leaving him feeling suffocated, as if nothing held any aning.
After getting a second chance at life, Anson decided he should probably try to reclaim those forgotten habits. Even if not for his health, he should at least try doing things he wanted, not wasting his ti.
After all, the ti he had now was all "stolen."
Skateboarding was sothing he hadn't done in a long ti, and the joy he had forgotten ca rushing back easily. It was a sense of freedom, as if, with just a little more force, he could spread his wings and fly.
Soon, he was drenched in sweat, as if he had been pulled out of water.
Tired, he sat on the ground, chugging down a bottle of water, exhaling deeply. Despite the fatigue, he felt incredibly refreshed.
A smile naturally spread across his face.
A group of guys he had just t while skateboarding ca over to greet him. They were clearly removed from Hollywood's glitz and glamour and didn't recognize Anson, but that made their interaction simpler and more genuine.
"We're heading to Venice Beach. There's an abandoned residential area there that's great for skateboarding. Want to join?"
Anson waved them off, "I'm all out of energy today. Maybe next ti."
The guys looked at Anson sprawled on the ground and started laughing. "Take it easy, no rush. Don't worry, no one here will make fun of you."
Though they said that, their laughter was pretty unrestrained.
But there was no malice.
Anson could tell, so he spread his arms and lay flat on the ground, playing along. This made the guys laugh even harder, but they still ca over to high-five Anson before leaving.
The body he had inherited actually had decent athletic abilities—good balance, reflexes, agility, and strength. However, before Anson's arrival, it seed like the previous owner didn't enjoy physical activity and lacked regular exercise, so his stamina was easily drained.
Today, his body was indeed out of energy.
If Anson wanted to keep going in Hollywood, he felt he needed to start exercising. He didn't need to bulk up like Arnold Schwarzenegger or Dwayne Johnson, but toning his body and increasing agility could open up more roles for him.
*Buzz. Buzz buzz buzz.*
The phone in his pocket vibrated again, and this ti Anson noticed. He pulled it out and saw two missed calls.
Surprised, he quickly answered, and before he could say a word, Andrew's voice ca through, letting out a long breath. "Jesus Christ, you finally picked up. Where the hell have you been?"
Anson, still lying on the ground, replied, "Wait, who is this?"
Andrew: ...
Anson's smile widened, "Haha, sorry, just ssing with you. Andrew, I thought the actors' union didn't handle other work-related tasks. You're not calling to invite for a drink, are you?"
Andrew's tone was calm, "Just so you know, I'm flipping you off right now—specifically with the middle finger."
"Haha." Anson couldn't help but laugh out loud.
Andrew didn't continue the banter. "I'm just doing my job. To be honest, I left you a voicemail already. I've done my part, and whether you answer or not isn't my concern, but..."
Anson, "But?"
Andrew rolled his eyes, "I know how brutal and cutthroat Hollywood can be. For a newcor, every opportunity is precious. I don't want you to miss out."
A pause.
Andrew added, "Also because the casting director has been pestering . God, I have no idea what their rush is about. But since they're in such a hurry, it ans good news for you."
Anson stopped joking, "Thanks."
As Andrew said, he had done his job and didn't need to keep following up. After all, he wasn't Anson's agent, just a mber of the actors' union. But despite that, he still did it.
Andrew paused for a mont before shifting to business. "Marcia Ross, casting director. I don't know what project it's for yet, but she wants you to co to Burbank."
Anson sat up straight, his first thought being:
Could this be Darren's doing?
After their last call, Darren had left him hanging without revealing anything.
At first, Anson thought it might have sothing to do with the "GQ" magazine incident. But with so little information, he couldn't figure out what was going on.
And now?
Even though he hadn't secured an agent yet, a casting opportunity suddenly appeared?
Of course, in Hollywood, audition opportunities are abundant. Even actors like Jas Franco and Chris Evans regularly get audition chances.
So auditions are arranged by agents, so are found through the actors' union, and others co from casting directors who reach out after watching their previous work.
Opportunities are everywhere, which is why so many actors flock to Los Angeles—or, if not, to New York. Big cities offer endless possibilities.
But so far, Anson only had "Friends" on his resu. If a casting opportunity ca his way, it was more likely due to Darren's connections.
So, was this the surprise Darren hinted at?
"Burbank, where exactly?" Anson asked.
Andrew responded, "Disney."
A surprise, indeed.
Before Anson could reply, Andrew continued, "They want you to head to Burbank imdiately. Right now, as in this very mont."
Anson looked down at his sweat-soaked appearance. "Is it really that urgent?"
Andrew couldn't quite understand either. Unless there was an ergency on set requiring an actor to step in, there usually wasn't such a rush for an audition.
Besides, this was Los Angeles, not New York, where the pace was slower. For just an audition, they could easily schedule a different ti.
Yet, Marcia had already called him four tis.
With his experience, Andrew had a theory. "Maybe the casting director isn't the only one at the audition. The director or producer might be there too, and they could be in town for only a day or two. The only ti they can hold auditions might be this afternoon."
"But."
"This is just a guess. Only they know the actual situation."
Just when he thought the conversation was over, Andrew added, "Marcia ntioned it's for a leading role. A feature film."
Oh, then there was no reason to miss this opportunity.
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