Chapter 162: Taking a Role
Having enjoyed a long period of inactivity, Tang Yumeng was planning to relax at home when she received a call about an audition. Her initial reaction was suspicion, thinking it was a scam.
Then the caller introduced himself as Director Wang Weifan, and her doubts dissipated.
She knew of Director Wang, a figure not particularly well-known in the industry. He had directed some successful films early in his career, even winning an award at a Hong Kong and Taiwan film festival, but his commercial films hadn’t fared well, his highest-grossing film barely reaching three hundred million yuan. He hadn’t produced any notable works in recent years, his name fading from the public consciousness.
However, he was still a respected figure, a veteran director, albeit not in the commercial realm. And since he had personally invited her, she couldn’t refuse, especially since she hadn’t had any acting work in a while and desperately needed a role.
The film, she learned, was an art house film, requiring a female lead, and several actresses had been invited to audition, though no A-list celebrities; they wouldn’t deign to appear in such a low-budget production.
Having accepted the invitation, Tang Yumeng dressed and prepared for the audition. Then, thinking it would be boring to go alone, she called someone.
“Hello? Senior Yumeng? What’s up?”
“I have an audition, and I was wondering if you could come with me. It’s a bit boring to go alone. You were an actress, weren’t you? Want to revisit the entertainment industry?”
Yu Linna was chatting with Chen Xi on QQ about her upcoming publication, having just finished the color illustrations after several days of intense work. Tang Yumeng’s call came at the perfect time.
Initially, she wasn’t keen on going, her time in the entertainment industry not a pleasant memory.
But it was Tang Yumeng’s first invitation; she couldn’t refuse.
And she had nothing else to do.
Just a casual outing, she thought.
Yu Linna dressed in a stylish gray coat, jeans, and boots, adjusting her scarf before leaving her apartment.
April was approaching, the release date of her novel, and she hoped it would be well-received, a successful launch crucial for her writing career. As a newcomer, she was understandably anxious about her debut.
“Linna, you’re here.”
“Yes.”
They met at the designated location, exchanging brief greetings. Tang Yumeng hailed a taxi, and they headed towards the audition venue, the city lights blurring past Yu Linna’s window, her mind elsewhere, wondering about the current state of the entertainment industry, the recent changes, the old guard retiring, the new generation rising.
The company, Lex Film Productions, had a branch in Guangnan City, the audition held locally, saving Tang Yumeng the trouble of traveling. Though the competition was fierce, with fewer than ten actresses vying for the role, everyone was giving their best.
Tang Yumeng, a perpetually struggling actress, rarely landed leading roles, often relegated to minor characters with less than twenty minutes of screentime. But it was an improvement from her early days, when she had even played a villain with only three minutes of screentime.
“Senior Yumeng, are you nervous?” Yu Linna asked, seeing her silence, assuming she was experiencing the same anxiety she had felt when she first entered the industry.
“Not really. I’m just… hoping I get the role.”
“This film might not even be successful.”
“But it’s still an opportunity.”
Tang Yumeng smiled.
After several years in the industry, her career hadn’t progressed much. Though still young, she was about to graduate; she couldn’t help but feel anxious. She wanted to achieve some level of recognition before graduating, even a minor role in a successful film would be enough. Her Weibo follower count was a measly one thousand; she was practically unknown.
They entered the Lex Film Productions building, their beauty drawing glances from the staff, though in the entertainment industry, beautiful women were hardly a rarity.
Tang Yumeng explained their purpose, met with the director’s assistant, and was led to the audition room, while Yu Linna was stopped.
“Non-audition personnel are not allowed inside.”
Yu Linna had no choice but to wait in the reception area.
She recalled her own audition in Shenzhen, a far more competitive environment, having earned a spot among the final one hundred candidates from thousands, only to lose to Nangong Ying. That film, The Storm Chronicle, had launched Nangong Ying’s career.
That audition had been a turning point in their lives, their paths diverging, leading them down completely different roads.
Yu Linna shook her head. Why was she thinking about Nangong Ying now?
She scrolled through her phone, waiting for the results.
Director Wang Weifan, a man nearing fifty, was overweight, his face oily, his hair thinning from years of sleepless nights. But his eyes were bright, his complexion healthy, suggesting a comfortable lifestyle.
He entered the reception area and, seeing Yu Linna playing on her phone, paused, surprised.
“Hello, young lady. Are you waiting for someone?” he asked politely, a smile on his face.
“Yes, I’m waiting for my… senior. She’s auditioning.”
“Oh? And your senior is…?”
“Tang Yumeng.”
“Ah, yes, her.”
He remembered the girl he had invited for the audition.
He wasn’t familiar with her, but her appearance and demeanor seemed to fit the character he had in mind. And few actresses were interested in auditioning for his art house film. The role, though technically the female lead, had limited screentime, less than thirty minutes in a ninety-minute film.
It made sense for her friend to be waiting in the reception area. Tang Yumeng, though not guaranteed the role, had been personally invited by the director, unlike the other actresses, most of whom were self-recommended or referred by agents.
“Young lady, what’s your name? You’re quite pretty. Ever considered becoming an actress?”
“My name is Yu Linna, Director. I’m not interested in becoming an actress. I don’t like it.”
“Oh? Why not? You seem suited for it.”
He chuckled. It was rare for a girl to reject a career in acting, a world so many aspired to enter, willing to do almost anything to break in.
But he wasn’t offended, simply amused by her honesty.
For a girl to succeed in the entertainment industry without talent or connections was almost impossible.
“I was an actress before.”
“Oh? And why did you quit?”
He treated her like a child, perhaps unaware that she was legally an adult.
Fortunately, he wasn’t a creep, his interest purely professional. Though the entertainment industry was known for its dark side, not everyone was corrupt. Director Wang had a good reputation.
“Because being an actress… it’s too cruel. And there’s no future in it. I gave up long ago.”
Though her tone was calm, he could hear the underlying sadness in her voice.
It was true; achieving fame and success in the entertainment industry was incredibly difficult. Many talented individuals lacked opportunities, connections, or simply refused to compromise their principles, their potential wasted, their dreams unfulfilled.
Few were as lucky as Nangong Ying, achieving instant stardom. Most actors struggled in obscurity, hoping for their big break.
“You’re right. A girl like you shouldn’t be in the entertainment industry. You’re young; you have plenty of time to find your path.”
His words were sincere, born from his own experience.
His career had stalled, his recent works mediocre, his reputation declining, even A-list celebrities unwilling to work with him.
The entertainment industry was a cruel place; without talent and connections, you were nothing.
“Alright, I have to get back to work. Enjoy your… wait.”
“Okay.”
He smiled at her, this girl, so pure, so innocent. It was good she wasn’t pursuing a career in the entertainment industry, that cesspool. She deserved better.
The film, titled Dream Life, was an art house film, the male lead already cast. The remaining role was the male protagonist’s ex-girlfriend, a character with limited screentime, about a third of the film, a role no one wanted, most actresses rejecting the script outright.
The character wasn’t particularly likable.
Director Wang entered the audition room, ready to begin, hoping for a good outcome. A successful film could revitalize his career.
But he didn’t dare to get his hopes up.
The original story, a thousand-word short story he had found crumpled up in a trash can, was unconventional; he wasn’t sure if it would resonate with audiences.
