Chapter 20 Confidentiality Agreement
Ding.
The elevator arrived at the first floor from the underground parking lot. The elevator door slowly opened, and the scene of the Actors Guild came into view. It was slightly different from the imagined picture. The beige and yellow-based decoration revealed a soft atmosphere. The atmosphere has a vague feeling of a library, which has nothing to do with movies anyway -
The front desk is responsible for reception, with a stack of information piled next to it.
There is a waiting area at the door. Some people are sitting there bored because they don’t have smartphones, but they are still down-to-earth people, flipping through newspapers and magazines.
Diagonally ahead, in the bulletin board area, a black lady with glasses wearing a sweater and cardigan is writing on it, which is filled with recruitment information.
Although it is now the 21st century and computer penetration has increased across the board, at least as of 2000, the convenience of the Internet is still waiting to be further explored, and retro and old-school recruitment information is still very popular. The Screen Actors Guild's hardware facilities are still not updated fast enough.
Stand there and look at it carefully——
Red. yellow. green. blue.
Different colors of chalk represent different types of crews, different attribute requirements, different levels of emergencies, etc. Everyone can find audition information according to their own situation.
I once heard that Hollywood produces 300 movies a year. At first glance, I didn’t think much of it. I was even a little surprised. There were only 300 movies?
But now I see with my own eyes that the number of job opportunities provided by the number "three hundred" is like a wave of waves, and the whole nature is completely different.
"Excuse me..."
The front desk noticed Anson's steps and stayed in place, just like Harry Potter entering Hogwarts for the first time, and asked politely.
Aware of Anson's gaze, the receptionist showed a sweet smile.
"Is there anything I can do to help? This may be your first time coming to the union. I can give you a brief introduction."
Kind and polite.
Anson laughed dumbly, "It seems that the word unfamiliar is written on my face."
The eyebrows at the front desk were completely relaxed, "I prefer to call it vigor."
Angry?
Savor it carefully, this adjective is not only just right, but also meaningful.
Anson couldn't help but take another look at the front desk.
Sure enough, even the front desk has gone through many vicissitudes of life.
Anson was a little curious and glanced at the bulletin board, "So, is there any special trick to surfing the sand here?"
"Washing the sand in the big waves?" the front desk repeated, with a look in his eyes The smile overflowed, "Maybe, luck is the only answer."
Anson smiled.
Indeed, for others, it is true; but for him, it is not. The memories from 2023 are an infinite treasure.
The corners of Anson's mouth raised slightly, "I should go to the church to worship in a while. Do you know a nearby church?"
"Ha." The front desk immediately heard Anson's joke, His expression was completely relaxed.
Anson did not continue the greetings, "Anson Wood. I have an appointment. In order to avoid being late, it is better to move our summit conversation to a later date."
"Haha." The front desk looked at the only computer screen on the first floor with a smile, and typed happily. The screen refreshed information at a turtle speed -
Darren has completed the reservation in advance.
"Oh, here, Anson Wood, fourth floor, 407, Andrew O'Connell, you can just go up."
Anson showed a Smile, "Thank you."
The front desk looked up and saw Anson's smile, and his mood brightened, "Congratulations."
Anson was slightly startled.
The front desk quickly explained, "You came here to sign a contract, right? Congratulations on getting the role."
Anson suddenly realized, "I hope this is not the last time."
The easy joke once again won a soft laugh, and then Anson walked towards the elevator bathed in the gaze. The front desk couldn't help but stand up, leaned out slightly, and stared at the tall and handsome back, without the smile on his lips. After he calmed down, his eyes sparkled.
Until the elevator door closes. ……
Knock knock!
The knock on the door caused shallow ripples in the silence of the corridor. No need to wait, a crisp voice came from inside, and Anson pushed the door open and entered.
File. document. Still a file.
A small mountain of files.
As soon as he walked in, Anson instantly dreamed back to his senior year in high school.
At that time, they did the same thing. They piled books, test papers, and exercises around their desks, like a siege, surrounding themselves.
In the corner of the document, a pair of feet wearing white socks are placed cross-stacked. The visual impact is very intuitive -
In an instant, it is like being in a Quentin Tarantino shoot. The set is average.
The entire Hollywood knows that Quentin likes to pat feet the most and has his own hobby.
Slightly slower than half a beat, the feet were retracted, and a ginger chestnut head suddenly raised up.
The facial features on that face all seem to have their own personality, letting themselves go, and the whole appearance is a bit sloppy; but the rough temperament between the eyebrows cleverly integrates the facial features to form a kind of Unique personality and temperament.
If he appeared in a ruffian gangster movie, he would be very suitable.
Perhaps, Quentin’s “Reservoir Dogs”?
Or Guy-Ritchie’s “Two Smoking Barrels.”
"Anson?"
Andrew O'Connell held a cigarette in his mouth, but did not light it. The cigarette swayed up and down with the movement of his lips as he spoke, and his eyebrows were slightly frowned.
After receiving a positive reply, Andrew did not continue to be polite.
"Terms. Project. Details."
"I have communicated everything, there is no problem, the rest just needs your confirmation."
"This is a confidentiality agreement."
"This is a performance agreement."
Crackling, without stopping at all, a huge amount of information was poured down on everyone, showing Andrew's resolute and resolute attitude.
Although the desktop was full of documents, it was obvious that Andrew had his own habits. He quickly pulled out a few documents and handed them to Anson.
Anson was not in a hurry. He caught a detail in his words and interrupted Andrew, "Confidentiality agreement?"
Andrew held a cigarette in his mouth, raised his chin and glanced at Anson with squinted eyes.
"The filming of this season of 'Friends' is coming to an end, and countless people are curious about how the story of this season will end."
"Especially how Chandler will propose to Monica , the show crew must keep the subsequent plot secret."
"Look, they are not even willing to send the script to me. After you sign the confidentiality agreement, the crew will hand over the script to you."
After a pause, Andrew's eyebrows frowned slightly. He didn't light the cigarette, but he seemed to be able to see the curls of smoke covering his face.
He leaned forward slightly, like a black deal in a crime movie, his face hidden in the shadow of the light, and his voice lowered.
“Do you know that anyone is now willing to pay four hundred thousand dollars to buy an episode of scripts?”
Anson raised his eyebrows slightly. It seems that Marvel’s method of preventing spoilers has long been used in Hollywood. It's nothing new, but a fine tradition.
Andrew noticed Anson's expression, but misunderstood Anson's thoughts. His eyebrows stretched out, showing a teasing look. He sat up straight again, distanced himself again, and made a joke casually.
“Believe me, it’s not worth it for a mere four hundred thousand dollars.”
The cute new entertainment author Qimao is on the stage. Thank you all book friends for your support. Read, read, read. I sincerely hope that all readers can keep reading during the new book period. Thank you! Thanks!
(End of this chapter)