[US Entertainment] Best Director

What's Hollywood like at three o'clock in the morning?

Luxuriant?Night life?

Or forge ahead with high ambition?

Price hoped it was the latter.

This might make it seem like her death wasn't so stupid.

That's right, Priris died with nothing.

Died on the shores of Santa Monica next to Hollywood.

No relatives, no friends, not even a pitiful penny in my pocket.

But until the last moment of her life, Price still felt that coming to Hollywood was the wisest decision she had ever made in her life.

Price came to Hollywood at the age of 22.

celibate.across oceans.

Like all filmmakers who come to Hollywood, Price also had a heart of innocence.

But Priris did not expect that this thorny road would be so difficult——

Age, gender, ethnicity, nationality... These almost ridiculous factors have become the reasons for Hollywood, a cold and proud economy, to reject this innocent girl from entering the game.

No one wants to invest in Price.

Nobody wants to give Price a chance.

Price became a beggar in Hollywood, an ordinary "poor girl" who failed to pursue her dreams.

But even so, she never gave up on herself.

She knows that only talent is the foundation of everything.

She desperately learns various techniques in the film, and even shirks all kinds of social interactions and her former best friends for this.

In the end, she got the talent as she wished, but lost her luck.

She died, dying in her pursuit of pure art.

"Do you regret it?" A male voice came from nowhere.

Prairis looked at the rising sun on the holy coast of Santa Monica and pondered for a long time.Said just now.

"Sorry, but not sorry."

Sirens sounded and the sun rose.

She took one last look at the city that haunted her, and disappeared into thin air.

***

This is a gray manor.

The blue-gray stone bricks are shrouded in the perennial gray mist.

Lakes, drizzle, stone steps...

She could even feel the moss in the corner rotting in the damp.

shudder.

There were footsteps outside the door.

She put down the exquisite porcelain cup in her hand.

Walking to the dressing table, he picked up the wooden comb, and combed the long golden hair that he hadn't seen for a long time.

The girl in the mirror is very young.

Blonde hair, gray eyes, red lips.

Her immature face is like the purest snow on the Alaska Mountains.

The most typical delicate face in Europe.

Praris looked at the blonde girl in the mirror in a daze.

Is that what she looked like back then?

She can't remember.

It seems that many years ago, he transformed himself beyond recognition for the so-called "pure art".

The wooden comb passed through the flowing hair, and finally landed on the chest.

The door was pushed open, and the maid walked in, handing over a smoke-gray long dress.

She took the skirt and looked at the strange maid in front of her.

"Miss Reith, change your clothes quickly, Madam has been waiting for you for a long time."

The "Madame" in the maid's mouth is her stepmother, Ms. Jory Crander.

She could no longer remember what the lady looked like.

The last time we met seemed to be eight years ago, at her father's funeral.

Wearing a long black dress, the lady stood indifferently in front of her father's tombstone, with her little son born to her father beside her.

Old Clander doted on his youngest son very much, and even perfunctorily gave Pryris £[-] in his will, leaving everything else to Ms. Jory and her son.

Pryreth once resented Klander's favoritism, but she forgave it after seven years in Hollywood.

Everyone has the right to share their own things with those they like.

Old Klander naturally had the right to pass on the inheritance to his favorite young son.

She has no right to resent.

Put on a long skirt.

Prairie looked at himself in the mirror.

Young, beautiful and confident.

Sweep away the timidity of the later generations after being honed by Hollywood.

She didn't know why she went back to the past.

But she likes her 17-year-old self.

It's not because the 17-year-old self has a good-looking face, nor is it because the 17-year-old self has the possibility of chasing dreams again.

It's because my 17-year-old self has a valuable quality that my 30-year-old self has long since lost—confidence.

She should be confident, otherwise, how could she leave everything in the UK, go across the ocean alone, and pursue an unrealistic dream in a foreign country?

But she forgot in repeated failures.

From being disheartened at the beginning, I buried myself in the film and the camera, and kept my ears shut, and gradually turned into a mild social phobia.

She is unwilling to communicate with others, and she is immersed in her own world.

Movies are never solos, but symphonies.

By the time she fully understood this matter, it was too late.

Hollywood completely locked the door on her.

The maid coughed lightly.

Prairis put away his thoughts, turned and went out.

In the meeting room.

Lady Jory, in a long dark purple dress and with her back straight, sat drinking tea in front of the fire.

Behind him is a large Renaissance oil painting.

Seeing Prairie enter the room, Ms. Jory gently put down the teacup in her hand.

The maid pulled out the chair for Prairius.

She sat down gently.

Ms. Jory looked Prairis up and down.

Finally, frowning, he locked his eyes on Priris' loose hair.

"Miss Crander, I think you should understand that you are a lady."

If the 17-year-old Praris would have snorted disdainfully, she never liked this staid and arrogant stepmother.

But sitting here today is Prairis, 30, who knows how important it is to be kind.

"Will pay attention next time, Ms. Jory."

Ms. Jory raised an eyebrow.

It seemed unexpected that Prairis did not contradict her exhortation.

He glanced inquiringly at Prairie.Didn't say much.

Handed the document in his hand to Prairis.

"Sign it."

"What?" Prairis took the file.

"Agreement." Ms. Jory looked at Prairis's hand flipping the document, and added, "Agreement on renunciation of inheritance rights."

Prairius stopped flipping.

Ms. Jory lit a women's cigarette, and the gray cigarette was caught between two light-white fingertips.

"Sign it. Correspondingly, you will get a compensation of 100 million pounds." Ms. Jory moved the cigarette to her lips, took a light puff, protruding the smoke ring, and her eyes were cold.

Prairis looked at Jory in a deep voice, and a stream of light flashed in his gray-blue eyes.It seems to be thinking about whether this deal is a good deal.

"Believe me Reith, if you sign it now, you will only get more than what you will get from your father then." Ms. Jory held a cigarette in her mouth, her tone arrogant and distant.

It is true that she got more. In her previous life, she rejected Ms. Jon's agreement, thinking that she would get more from Old Klander, but finally found out that Old Klander only left her a pitiful [-] yuan. GBP.

She should be satisfied.Not to mention she needs the money to start over.

Picking up the teacup on the table, he looked at the arrogant and alienated lady in front of him with gray-blue eyes.

"As you wish, ma'am."