"Alright, Dad, I’m not a little girl anymore, I can take care of myself, don’t worry, that’s it, I love you." Blake Lively closed her phone with a long sigh and set it down, straightened her clothes, and hurriedly emerged from the secluded corner back onto the avenue between the studios. Due to her parents, she had been to these studios many times before for fun, so she was fairly familiar with everything around, and soon she arrived near the parking lot. Checking the time, though she hadn’t managed to get an exact figure, it was about this time, she wondered if that man would change his schedule or if he had already arrived while she was on the phone. Blake hesitated for ten minutes, holding back the urge to go see at the studio, when a silver-gray Bentley drove in, and then the person she was waiting for got out of the car. She let out a long breath, relaxed a bit, but immediately grew more nervous, even though she had been motivating herself before coming, repeatedly telling herself that if that jerk could do it, she could too. During this period, Blake had roamed around the studios quite a bit, constantly trying to gather information about the man from the people here, and once took advantage of the Oscar award ceremony to directly inquire about him from her parents. With these pieces of information, Blake finally pieced together a relatively complete image in her mind. Undoubtedly, he was a playboy, had slept with many women, which was something she could confirm even before collecting intelligence, now merely verifying each one. "Just a few weeks ago I saw him with... that woman who plays the female dean in ’Dr. House’... Vera Farmiga, that’s probably the name, coming out one after the other from a corner of Studio 42." This was said by a props staff member while chatting with someone else when Blake happened to be nearby. ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ꜰʀᴏᴍ n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net But this wasn’t her main concern, Blake had always been the type that once she made up her mind, she wouldn’t worry about anything else before achieving her goal. Like when she was in 8th grade, a girl from a higher family background offended her, Blake wanted to retaliate fiercely, but several close friends thought it would escalate, so she disregarded them and blocked the girl alone in the bathroom and humiliated and threatened her. Later, that girl transferred schools, and neither the parents nor the close friends were aware of this, making the friends even more obedient to her. Therefore, what Blake was more interested to know was whether the input and output were proportional. Her parents and siblings were all basically striving in the entertainment industry, so naturally, she wasn’t ignorant about certain things. In fact, when she decided to become an actress, her parents consciously began advising her on how to protect herself. Generally speaking, the return rate for such matters isn’t high, because to a large extent it’s merely a means of socializing, going out to eat, shop, and dance with everyone alike, very ordinary. So, cases of heartless abandonment do occur frequently, except for that one person, it was said that women who had slept with him all received a decent return, hence, even as a renowned playboy, his reputation among women remained decent. Well, perhaps the information obtained wasn’t that accurate, but as long as there was intelligence, it could be analyzed, not to mention there were actual examples. "Another one, how many has it been now? In that case, whoever wants the best actress award in the future, just sleep with him." This was what her mother complained about while watching this year’s Oscar award ceremony on TV at the time of the best actress award. Moreover, even without looking at the series of Miracle Girls who won best actress, the jerk parading around before her at school daily was enough to prove some things. So Blake finally made up her mind, knowing that a person like him, even without returns, women eager to sleep with him were endless, if she didn’t put in a bit of effort, how could she step on the jerk? Thinking back to how she treated her, and what she did to herself?! Every time she thought of this, Blake would grit her teeth. Of course, at such times she would selectively forget that she was the one who initiated the conflict. In any case, if it would make that jerk dare not arrogantly appear before her again, this sacrifice didn’t count for much, let alone... Thinking about the difference between Miracle Girls and certain actresses — such as Vera Farmiga — Blake, filled with more desire, chased after the man’s figure. Quietly observing for quite a while nearby, waiting outside Studio 35 for another moment, when the other party came out, seeing he was currently alone, she immediately straightened her chest and walked over, calling out in a surprised tone, "Are you... Mr. Adrian Cowell?" "Yes, I am, may I ask who you are?" The man turned his head in puzzlement, looked her up and down, and seemed to show some interest. Blake had deliberately dressed up, wearing a white shirt and jeans, with light makeup, trying to showcase her youthful and lively side. She wasn’t sure what kind of woman he liked, but young girls were always liked, wasn’t that how that jerk Leighton was? "Hello, I’m Blake Lively, you might not know me, but that’s okay, if you’re willing to give me a chance to show myself, you’ll find my strengths." Blake said in a confident tone. The other party raised an eyebrow in surprise, looked her over carefully again, and then laughed, "If you want a role, Miss Lively, you should participate in various auditions rather than coming to me, if every actor came to me for a role, I’d be worked to death." This tone made Blake’s heart sink involuntarily, the reason she did this, besides not having other ways to cozy up, was to give the other party a deep impression, whether that impression was good or bad, as long as he remembered her. In fact, there were a few seconds she felt she succeeded, at least that faint interest in Adrian’s expression hadn’t disappeared, but she hadn’t expected such a response from him. "I know this is against the rules, Mr. Cowell, but I stand by my view," Blake maintained calm and confident on the surface, despite her sweaty palms and pounding heart, she had no retreat left, "I’ve participated in some auditions, but either the directors and producers were inattentive or the roles were insignificant, I need an opportunity to prove myself." "You don’t appear very old," after looking her over again, Adrian said, "I don’t think it’s that big of a deal, roles suited for your age are inherently few, rather than always thinking about overnight fame, it’s better to try more simple supporting roles, after passing through this awkward period, the experience accumulated will allow you to have a considerable leap." "I know, Mr. Cowell, but opportunities are also necessary." Blake took a deep breath, "I’m confident I can play any kind of role, as long as there’s a chance to prove myself." "Any kind of role?" The other party laughed, with a hint of disbelief. "I bet you haven’t participated in those top-tier auditions," he pointed inside the studio, "Such auditions are entirely unimaginable at your age, every actor, regardless of fame, must perform according to the director’s requirements and give their whole heart, also—no matter how unreasonable the demands may be." "I believe I can do it, Mr. Cowell," a realization rose inside her, and Blake immediately said in a persistent tone, "I also believe this is the first time someone has fought for an opportunity , so why not let me try?" The other person squinted, his mouth slightly curled up as if he wanted to laugh, showing a more skeptical expression, yet there was a hint of interest as well. It was precisely this obvious hint of interest that made the anxious Blake stand taller, and she wisely kept silent, gazing persistently at Adrian. The man in front shook his head, furrowed his brow seeming to consider how to discourage her idea, then made a "come with me" gesture and turned to walk toward a two-story office building next to the studio. Blake, ignoring her slightly weak legs, immediately followed behind him. Probably because there was work going on in the studio next door, there weren’t many people in the building. The two of them walked down the corridor one behind the other to a small room. It was a lounge, with a staff member busy with something. When he noticed them, he left at Adrian’s signal without saying a word, and didn’t even look at Blake, as if she didn’t exist. Entering the room, Adrian looked around and took a banana from the fruit plate on the nearby long table, placing it in front of his lower abdomen to face Blake: "You’ve probably seen Judi Foster’s ’The Accused,’ right? Now, I need a female lead, she’s been raped, and to survive, to take revenge, she has to pretend to submit to her assailant. How will you perform, Miss Lefley?" No matter how calm Blake pretended to be, her face flushed at this moment. She had originally designed many plans in her mind, just to get him to agree to consider— even if it was just to appease— she would have an opportunity to communicate with him further. But Blake hadn’t expected him to present a challenge, and such a challenge, clearly intending to make her retreat in difficulty. Her heartbeat pounding made her breath become rapid, looking at the man in front who seemed to say with his eyes "go back". Scenes flashed quickly through her mind: a prosperous but very ordinary middle-class family life, being surrounded by other stars in public places, envy from her brother and sister when talking about fame, praise from girls in the cheerleaders, finally freezing on Leighton’s satisfied yet contemptuous look. She wasn’t aware that if he truly wanted her to retreat, the man didn’t need to come here, presenting such a challenge when one-on-one. She paused here, gritting her teeth: "Of course, even if it’s true, I can do it." "At least for now, Miss Lefley, I am very satisfied with you." He followed with a more emphatic tone, "So, I wonder if tonight, I could invite you for dinner?" Joyful feelings surged uncontrollably into Blake’s heart, making all previous encounters worthwhile, and she hastily replied, "I’d be delighted, Mr. Cowell." "Then, please wait a little while, I still have some things to deal with here, and you might as well..." Adrian’s smile carried some profound meaning, "First let your family know." Blake immediately understood his meaning, first feeling slightly surprised but then joyful, and although she hesitated for two seconds, she agreed: "I will, Mr. Cowell, my family doesn’t restrict me much." "Good," Adrian nodded, "By the way, you can call me Adrian or Ed, Blake." "Okay, Cowell... Ed." Blake bit her lip and answered. Adrian smiled slightly, took her phone number, then lightly kissed her cheek before leaving the room. After he left, Blake relaxed completely, let out a long breath, and sat weakly on a chair. Though she had thoroughly put herself out there earlier, recalling it now inevitably made her regret a little. But can she really get what she wants? Blake wondered as she rubbed her face. But she quickly dismissed the thought; reaching this point, what’s the use of thinking about these things? At least she had initially achieved her goal, and as long as tonight goes well... Thinking of this, Blake felt a bit worried, too— how would this man treat her? She would soon find out, and it was quite unexpected. After taking care of his business and picking her up, Adrian inquired carefully about her preferences, then drove to a relatively quiet upscale Italian restaurant. Adrian at this moment was so elegant, carrying himself with gentlemanly grace and thoughtfulness, and was very skilled at reassuring people. Especially when guiding the conversation to her family, she unconsciously opened up, and from time to time he would offer some objective comments on certain matters, even if not in her favor, she could accept them. This was completely different from the impression he’d given her in the studio. "Blake?" Adrian called softly at this time. "Hmm? Oh, sorry, Ed, I was distracted." Blake blushed with embarrassment and lowered her head to fiddle with the food in front of her to cover it. "It’s okay," Adrian smiled warmly, "By the way, you said earlier you attend Burbank High School and are a member of the cheerleaders, right?" The knife cutting chicken suddenly scraped with force on the plate. (To be continued. If you work, you’re welcome to visit Qidian (qidian.com) to vote for recommendations, monthly tickets, your support is my greatest motivation.)