I’m in Hollywood

Chapter 249 – Not merely a goal

 

 

Eric…
Donald Trump softly called out Eric's name and made a kissing sound toward his daughter in his arms.

Ivanka, looking very disheartened after her just-failed performance, was not responding to Donald Trump's well-spoken attempts at consoling, motivating, and even scolding her.
Nothing seemed to work, so he had to turn to Eric for help.

Although it was the little girl who started it, if Eric hadn't agreed, there wouldn't be any trouble now.
Eric could not escape the responsibility and had to drag a chair to Ivanka's side.

The little Lolita gave Eric a sidelong glance and snuggled up close to her father.

“Ivanka, this must be your first performance, right?” Eric thought for a moment and asked gently.

Ivanka took a while before she nodded gently.

“I remember when I was in school, it was a music class, and the teacher asked a classmate in our class to sing a song on the podium.
As a result, the guy was so nervous that he sang a few lines clumsily before he fainted on the podium.
That was his first performance, so I'd say you did very well; you even managed to finish most of the song.”

Eric made a comparison beforehand, and provided a pretense to help the little girl clear her psychological shadows.
Sure enough, after hearing what Eric said, Ivanka seemed to relax a lot.
But still, she said softly, “But when I was in school, I sang for everyone, and nothing like what you said happened.”

“So, you must be up on stage a lot, right?”

“Hmm,” Ivanka nodded.

“Look, here is the crux of the matter.
Acting and singing are the same.
You'll be nervous the first time, but just try a few times, and you'll get used to it.”

“Um…” Ivanka finally lifted her head, batting her beautiful eyes, and asked, “Mr.
Williams, why was I so nervous even though I told myself this was going to be an easy thing?”

“This…?” Eric hesitated, as this involved the issue of liberating his true nature.
In principle, performing should be easy for an eight-year-old, as the so-called liberation of his true nature was to let the adult actor return to a carefree and unconcerned state of mind, like a child.

However, nothing is absolute, just like the little Lolita in front of him; she had already lost that state.
But for Stewart, that little guy had not yet kept his natural freedom, so he could easily perform according to Eric's request, but Ivanka would be nervous.

“Ivanka, this question is too complex for me to explain to you right now, because even if I did explain it, you still wouldn't understand.”

Ivanka nodded obediently and didn't ask any more questions.
Her expression was no longer dejected like before. 

“Mr.
Donald, it's time for you to take your seat,” a staffer said.

Donald Trump nodded and hugged his daughter.
“Ivy, Dad will be back soon.
Can you stay here obediently?”

“Yes,” Ivanka replied, managing to give her father a faint smile.

“Action!” the director called.
This time, Ivanka quietly sat to one side without saying a word, still curiously watching Eric through the walkie-talkie as he directed the crew's operation.
Her eyes sparkled brightly.

After Eric split the corridor shot into two parts, the filming went much smoother.
After a few takes and twenty minutes, the shot was finally finished.

Donald Trump was also getting ready to leave with his daughter, but Eric was too busy to even greet them, even though he didn't know they had brought his daughter with them.
Now that they were leaving, Eric could not treat them lightly any longer.
After all, Donald Trump, a real estate mogul, had come here to make a cameo without charging any money.
Even if he had other thoughts in his heart, it was still a great honor.

“Mr.
Trump, thank you for coming,” Eric said as he shook Donald's hand at the entrance of the Square Hotel.

“It's my pleasure,” Donald smiled and patted his daughter's shoulder, “Irene, say goodbye to Eric.”

The little girl stepped forward and extended her hand.
“Goodbye, Mr.
Williams.”

“Goodbye, Miss Trump,” Eric said, holding Ivanka's tiny hand and gently shaking it.

Ivanka pulled her hand back, her big eyes still shining brightly at Eric.
“Mr.
Williams, are we friends now?”

Eric paused for a moment, then smiled and nodded.
“Of course.”

“So, you can call me Ivanka, or like my parents and older brother, call me Ivy.
I'll also call you Eric, okay?”

“Of course,” Eric replied, nodding again.

“Eric, maybe…” Ivanka stammered before glancing at her father.
“Daddy, can I invite Eric to our house as a guest?”

Donald Trump wanted to scoop up his daughter and give her a big hug; it was so sweet.
He had been trying to find a way to befriend Eric all day and hadn't been sure how to start.
He had planned to host some parties at home to test the waters and invite Eric, but his daughter had solved the problem for him.

Of course, although he was pleased in his heart, Donald Trump showed no sign of it, but only said to his daughter, “Of course it's okay, you are part of our family and you have the power to invite guests.”

“So, Eric, come visit my place when you have time,” the little girl said, looking expectantly at Eric.

“I will,” Eric replied half-heartedly, viewing the little girl's words as childish innocence, not thinking much of it, and probably forgetting it in a couple of days.

Watching the father and daughter leave, he returned to the crew.

—–

Mr.
Williams, this is the draft script of the first five episodes of “X Files” sent by the script team.
Furthermore, Fox has pushed again, hoping that you can quickly cut the trailer of “Home Alone 2” as soon as possible.
They plan to release it on TV before October 17th.
Additionally, Mr.
Robert Shea said that several documents will be delivered tonight.

Eric flipped through the script of “X Files” in his hands as he listened to Alan reciting the memorandum beside him.
After a while, Alan closed his notebook: “That's all.
Oh, right.
Royce called from Central Park just now, saying that the crew encountered some trouble while preparing for the outdoor scene there.”

Eric immediately looked up; “Home Alone 2” was the top priority.
“What's going on?”

Alan replied, “It seems that an environmental organization in New York doesn't allow us to use artificial snow on a large scale and they have even sent people to supervise.
Royce said that just now these people even had a small conflict with our crew site staff.”

Eric was confused for a moment.
How could artificial snow be related to an environmental organization?

“Eric asked, “Do you know what's going on here?” Although the producer should be concerned about these matters, as director and one of the producers, Eric had the ultimate power on the set and needed to step in when something major happened.
Conflict had already occurred and seemed unlikely to be easily resolved, so Eric paid more attention and was about to go to the scene himself when Allen caught up and asked concernedly, “Eric, it's not easy to get a break for an afternoon.
I'm sure Mr.
Hanson will take care of those things.
You should rest.”

Eric nodded, understanding the situation.
“It's okay, I'm not comfortable until I see it with my own eyes.” He shook his head.

Allen had no choice but to get in the car with Eric and rush to Central Park.
On the way, Allen explained to Eric: “The thing is, there are two kinds of artificial snow.
One is to make real snowflakes with snow machines, but that is too expensive, and the environmental requirements are very strict, which can't be achieved under the current climatic conditions.
So we use another method, which is to replace it with something similar to snow.
The chemical composition of this artificial snow is magnesium sulfate.
Magnesium sulfate is actually harmless, and can even be used as fertilizer for many plants.
However, the environmental protection organization does not listen to our explanation, and does not trust our commitment to clean up afterwards.
They just keep restricting our use of this substance.
That's how it happened just now, when a staff member couldn't help but conflict with the other party.
He felt that the other party was being too nit-picking, and he was young and vigorous, so he acted.”

Eric leaned back against the car seat, his eyes flashing.
He then asked, “Was it too bad?”

“No,” Alan shook his head.
“They were separated just as they got close.”

Eric sighed and then asked, “What about the media coverage of this?”

Alan heard the seriousness in Eric's tone and quickly understood, but he didn't answer right away.
“I'm not too sure.
I thought it was just an environmental event.
After all, many production teams have encountered similar entanglements.”

Eric took a deep breath and said to the driver in the front seat, “Burt, drive faster.”

Arriving at Central Park, Eric passed through the barricade of the film crew's location and saw seven or eight young men and women lying in all directions, their faces masked and their bodies lightly dressed with green paint smeared on their exposed skin and displaying various environmental slogans.
Eric recognized several of the crew members standing helplessly around the periphery, while Jeffrey was engaged in a heated discussion with a woman in her thirties, dressed similarly to the young people lying on the ground, who looked excited.

“Ms.
Schneider,” Jeffrey began, “I have said it over and over again: This place must be paved with fake snow because it is an important shot.
Without snow, it will not work.
We have already made a lot of compromises.
What else do you want?”

“Absolutely not, Mr.
Hansen,” the woman replied.
“If those chemicals are placed directly on the vegetation, it would be fatal to them.”

“I have repeatedly promised you that after we finish filming, we will clean up here and I even bought a special vacuum cleaner for this.
Is that not enough?” Ms.
Schneider shook her head again.
“No, absolutely not.
Central Park is the lung of Manhattan.
If your lungs were to rot away, Mr.
Hansom, how would you feel?” 

“How can I convince you to agree?”

“We will never agree, absolutely and absolutely not, to lay artificial snow on this lawn,” Mrs.
Schneider seemed to be getting excited as well.

The two were arguing heatedly when Eric approached.

Jeffrey suddenly found himself facing Eric and, not knowing the situation, he was surprised to see Ms.
Schneider recognizing Eric and walking up to him with a serious expression.
“Mr.
Williams,” she began.
“I'm Cheryl Schneider from the New York Green Environmental Group.
I must protest your crew's action of laying down chemical substances on the lawn.
You must change the setting.”

At that moment, Jeffrey also arrived at Eric's side and, helplessly looking at the woman, he said to Eric, “Sorry, Eric, it looks like our performance here this afternoon will have to be delayed.”

“It's okay,” Eric replied, patting Jeffrey's shoulder.
Then he turned to Cheryl Schneider and said, “Ms.
Schneider, right? I just heard some of your argument.
Could I ask you a question? Do you know the ingredients we use for artificial snow?”

Cheryl Schneider sneered coldly, “Of course I know.
Magnesium sulfate heptahydrate.”

“What else?” Eric asked persistently.

Cheryl Schneider paused: “Is there anything else?”

Eric said, “Don't you know that magnesium sulfate heptahydrate is not only harmless to plants, but also a kind of fertilizer? Therefore, laying fake snow will not only not harm these plants, but even be beneficial.”

Cheryl Schneider's face changed a few times and she said quickly, “I don't understand what you said yet, I'll go back and collect some information.
But even if it is a kind of fertilizer, your application of such a thick layer must be excessive.
I know that overusing anything can have adverse effects.”

Jeffery interjected, “I've said it before, we will certainly take care of the clean up after the shoot.”

“I don't trust you capitalists who only seek profits.
Who knows if you will say one thing and do another? So, if you want to lay down something…
” Cheryl Schneider gestured towards the men and women scattered across the lawn: “Try it on us first!”

Eric glanced at the lawn and a thought quickly came to his mind.