Hugo took half a step forward and immediately noticed that all the waiting actors' eyes once again gathered on him, which made his stomach twitch slightly.
Those gazes, most of them were probably just waiting to see him make a fool of himself—especially that Wood and that stone—they made no effort to hide their provocation, blatantly staring at Hugo.
Hugo took a deep breath, calming himself down and ignoring the various stares around him. Then, he lifted his foot and prepared to head toward the meeting room at the end of the corridor on the right. But just as he took a step, he felt a tug from behind. Instinctively looking back, he saw Joseph tugging at the newspaper in his hand. Only then did Hugo realize, quickly letting go. Joseph immediately yanked the newspaper back, and Hugo continued walking forward.
Halfway there, he saw Brad Pitt walking out of the meeting room. He was the actor who auditioned right before Hugo. At that time, the young and reckless Brad had the top three buttons of his shirt undone, youthful and sexy, his whole body exuding an immensely sunny confidence.
The smile on his face resembled the trademark expression of the school's football team quarterback harmless, yet always ready to face competition, as if they were born the center of the universe.
At this moment, Brad was already twenty-nine years old. Normally, that wouldn't be considered young and impetuous anymore, but Brad didn't truly become an actor until he was twenty-eight. His overnight fame with Thelma & Louise gave him a taste of stardom, with waves of media praise flooding in. The spotlight dazzled him instantly. The entertainment industry had that kind of power—it made age and experience pale in the face of bright lights.
So now, at twenty-nine, Brad was like a nineteen-year-old hothead—flamboyant and confident, dashing and unruly.
Brad confidently turned back and waved at the interviewers, then swaggered toward Hugo's direction. He ran his hand through his hair with an exaggerated gesture, palm open, from his forehead back—paired with a flick of his head. This move, full of nineties flair, might have looked cool to others, but to Hugo, it was almost laugh-out-loud funny: it was just too comical.
Brad walked with uneven steps, brushing past Hugo. Out of the corner of his eye, Hugo clearly saw how Brad deliberately swung his shoulders to create his own aura. This walking style was often seen on school campuses—very showy. At the same time, Brad shot Hugo a confident look, as if saying, "My audition was in the bag, now it's your turn to play,"—the competitive message could not have been clearer.
But Hugo, looking at Brad's figure, didn't have the mind to accept that challenge. His entire focus was drawn to Brad's flashy posture. In the end, he couldn't hold back and burst out laughing. But soon, Hugo realized it wasn't Brad who was too funny—it was his own thinking that was too forward. For example, Brad's flared jeans were just unbearable to look at. So Hugo quickly lowered his head, bit his lower lip to suppress his smile, and walked forward quickly.
Brad sensed Hugo's reaction, slowed his pace slightly, and turned back to look at Hugo's retreating figure. Light and confident, sunny and youthful, that upright figure didn't radiate dazzling brilliance but carried a kind of gentle warmth that made people subconsciously want to keep watching. Regardless of what others said, Brad saw Hugo as his biggest competitor in this A River Runs Through It audition. And now, Hugo really did seem like a heavyweight opponent.
Still, thinking back on his own performance in the audition just now, Brad quickly regained his confidence. He resumed his showy stride and walked toward his agent amid the other auditioning actors' attention.
Hugo walked to the door of the meeting room and suddenly remembered something.
He turned his head to look at Brad's back and couldn't help frowning in confusion. He remembered reading before that Brad Pitt's height was listed as six feet (1.83m)—the same as Hugo's current height—but when they just brushed past each other, Brad was clearly shorter than him by a noticeable margin, at most five foot ten (1.78m). That was a big difference. Hugo had thought Hollywood's most famously short actor was Tom Cruise… Could it be that Brad was still growing? Or maybe height-increasing insoles hadn't been invented yet?
"Hugo." A female staff member standing at the door shifted her gaze from Brad's back to Hugo, interrupting his thoughts. When she saw Hugo turning his face toward her, a flash of amazement appeared in her eyes. When she looked at Hugo's dreamy peach blossom eyes and his warm, sunny smile, her gaze shyly drifted away. Hugo didn't notice anything strange. He simply gave a polite smile and softly said "Thank you" as the female staffer opened the meeting room door. Then, he walked in.
The female staffer stood in place, her face red and heart pounding, watching Hugo enter the audition room. She couldn't help but sigh: Good-looking guys really are good for mental health.
The meeting room door closed behind him. Hugo calmly observed the room's layout. He wasn't sure if this was the Four Seasons Hotel's meeting room or if it had been specially arranged for the audition. In any case, the setup was very simple—two desks piled with messy documents, a stack of chairs piled high to the right, and several large boxes in the left corner. However, the elegant carpet and exquisite chandelier still revealed a touch of refinement in the decor.
At this moment, two people sat behind the desks—one man, one woman—clearly Jon Hutman and Elizabeth Leustig. Elizabeth was a middle-aged woman around forty. She wasn't particularly attractive, more like an ordinary housewife. You'd never guess she was a successful casting director. Jon looked to be at least forty as well, wearing gold-rimmed glasses with a scholarly air, but his receding hairline gave away his middle-aged uncle vibes.
"Hey, Hugo, we meet again." As the casting director, Elizabeth naturally led the audition. Jon, sitting beside her, was merely there as a representative of the Screen Actors Guild to ensure the actor's rights and wouldn't participate in casting decisions. "This is Jon, a representative of the SAG. If you have any questions, you can ask him." Elizabeth gave a simple introduction. Jon smiled and nodded but didn't interrupt her.
"So, how are you feeling? Everything okay?" Elizabeth's question was quite ordinary, but today, it carried extra weight—obviously referencing The Los Angeles Times front-page headline.
Hugo didn't think too much of it. He simply flashed a bright smile and answered honestly, "Pretty good, except a little nervous."
Seeing that Hugo didn't respond directly, Elizabeth didn't mind. Her eyes still sparkled with delight at the sight of Hugo's handsome and sunny smile. In fact, in Hollywood, where handsome men and beautiful women were everywhere, good looks were hardly rare. Casting directors had seen thousands upon thousands of actors and were long past the point of aesthetic fatigue. But even so, the surprise when encountering a truly "top-quality specimen" only became more striking.
"Hugo, you know, the character Paul requires someone who is healthy, sunny, handsome, and unruly. We're very strict about the body shape," Elizabeth said with a faint smile and an indifferent expression. Hugo didn't react much to what he heard, which was typical of a rookie actor. Elizabeth was a little surprised, but she didn't mind. Instead, she continued, "Take off your shirt. I need to see your body. If necessary, you might have to go to the gym for a while."
Elizabeth's words were startlingly blunt, purely businesslike. But Hugo understood—this was Hollywood's "unspoken" rule being laid out on the table. If Joseph hadn't given him a heads-up earlier, Hugo might not have realized it. Before his transmigration, he'd only played background roles or minor supporting characters, never getting close to Hollywood's unspoken rules. Otherwise, he wouldn't have remained unknown for so long.
Now that Hugo understood, he didn't hesitate. Models wore only tight underwear during auditions, and actors training their bodies to suit a role was also completely normal. Besides, for a man, taking off his shirt was nothing to make a fuss over. Hugo quickly undid the buttons of his shirt and exposed his chest.
Although this body had died from a drug overdose, it was in surprisingly good shape. This was thanks to the muscle-man trend of the 1980s. From Sylvester Stallone to Bruce Willis, from Arnold Schwarzenegger to Dolph Lundgren, and Mickey Rourke to Jean-Claude Van Damme, the popularity of action films had filled Hollywood with a reverence for muscles and fitness. Under this trend, almost every male actor worked out, using their healthy, sunny, and strong appearance to impress producers.
Hugo was no exception. Though he didn't have the imposing eight-pack abs, his well-proportioned six-pack and smoothly defined chest muscles were visually impressive. Coupled with Hugo's sunny smile, the image of a carefree surfing dude made him incredibly likable.
Elizabeth stood up, raised her right hand toward Hugo standing in front of the desk, and then placed it on his arm, giving it two firm squeezes. Was this... checking if the pork was injected with water? Hugo wasn't sure if it was just his lack of experience, but he found the scene rather amusing. His first instinct was to glance at Jon, the Screen Actors Guild representative sitting nearby.
At this moment, Jon remained as composed as ever, sitting off to the side, watching Elizabeth's actions without the slightest reaction. Clearly, he considered Elizabeth's behavior perfectly acceptable. Hugo understood too—if a good physique was truly required, it was only natural for the casting director to squeeze or knock on the muscles for inspection. Many actresses even dressed revealingly to attract the attention of the interviewers. It wasn't surprising. But the point was, Elizabeth and Jon were just too calm about it. In China, this kind of thing was always done discreetly. Hollywood really was a different world.
Suddenly, Elizabeth's hand, still gripping Hugo's arm, tightened slightly, and the warmth of her palm clearly transmitted through the fabric. This overtly flirtatious action made Hugo shift his gaze from Jon back to Elizabeth, just in time to see her slightly raise an eyebrow. A shimmer of charm glinted in her eyes.
Was this... flirting? Hugo froze. Was he just teased... by an older woman?