Pink Storm

"'A sword belongs with a hero.' I don't even like Elvis, and I just happened to have one of his albums on hand. You were the obvious choice to give it to. If you still feel awkward about it, you can put in a good word with the boss and get me into her next movie. That'd be the best way to repay me. I'd be grateful."

Britney burst out laughing and collapsed into Irene's arms.

"If you'd listened to me and taken those acting classes, I'd have something for you to do in the second half of the year." The new movie still didn't have any standout male roles, but that suited an actor like Edward, whose acting skills were nonexistent.

"Boss, you really have a new project?" Edward's eyes lit up.

"Shh, it's only a plan for now. Keep it under wraps."

Edward hurriedly covered his mouth. "I won't say a word!"

The lights in the theater suddenly went out, and images appeared on the screen. The MGM lion roared once more.

Hall Carter was a little-known film critic for The Washington Post. As the movie began, he looked around the theater and saw that quite a few people had turned up. Aside from his fellow critics, most were young, but considering the cheers he'd heard earlier, they were probably there for Britney Spears, not the movie itself.

Most of his colleagues had chosen Eyes Wide Shut. There were more than enough people writing about it already, and since he figured no one would read his review anyway, he'd decided to take a different tack and see Legally Blonde instead, hoping to find something worthwhile.

The opening scenes flashed by quickly, and he hurried to focus on the movie.

As the plot unfolded, he started scribbling notes in the notebook he'd brought with him.

The understated camerawork, well-chosen music, easygoing tone, engaging performances, and smooth, heartfelt story all effortlessly drew the audience in.

Before long, he heard the audience laughing naturally. Getting swept up in the movie was as easy as breathing.

The only drawback was that the movie was rather simplistic. But considering it was the work of a first-time director, he couldn't be too hard on her.

Still, the simplicity had its advantages. It would appeal to plenty of teenagers, and it should also put an end to the rumor that Francis Coppola had directed the movie for his daughter. Anyone in the business could spot the amateurishness in the camerawork. It wasn't something the seasoned Francis could have produced.

The final shot lingered on that striking pink figure. It was the highlight of the entire movie. He could easily give it a 90.

"Wow..." The movie ended, and loud applause filled the theater.

"Elle was amazing! I wish I could be like her."

A girl's exclamation came from behind Hall Carter. He quickly jotted it down in his notebook: audience engagement, 9/10.

By the time he'd gathered his things and stepped out of the theater, he could still hear people around him praising the movie. There was hardly a negative word.

He checked his watch and hurried toward his car parked by the roadside. The screening of Eyes Wide Shut wouldn't end for another hour. That gave him plenty of time to write a decent review. Maybe this time he'd really turn things around.

Irene left with the others, intending to head straight home. But Edward invited everyone to a nightclub to celebrate their first movie's successful release.

She was genuinely exhausted and just wanted to go home, take a bath, and sleep, so she declined.

Britney, on the other hand, was full of energy and said she wanted to go. Irene couldn't very well refuse her outright, so she firmly reminded Edward to look after Britney: no shady places, no drinking in public, and he had to protect Britney's image.

Edward promised he'd get the job done, then led a whole group away in the sports car they'd borrowed for the production. It was quite a sight.

Irene didn't bother with anyone else. She got into the car and told the driver to take her home, leaving even her own father behind.

When Francis finished handling his business and went to head home, he couldn't find his car anywhere.

"I can take you home, Mr. Coppola. I'd also like to ask your advice on a few other things." Joyce Jackson, MGM's head of film acquisitions, offered. She'd been tied up with him for so long because they'd been discussing the upcoming publicity and wider release.

Francis gave a faint, noncommittal smile and glanced at George Lucas nearby. "Thanks for the offer, Ms. Jackson, but I can ride back with Lucas. It was a pleasure working with you. I'm looking forward to tomorrow's results." With that, he turned and left.

Joyce didn't stop him, only smiling as she watched him go. She'd actually wanted to talk to George Lucas about Star Wars that day, but he'd kept changing the subject and proved impossible to pin down. With no other options, she'd tried to approach Francis Coppola instead, but she'd hit a wall there too. Those old hands were so hard to deal with.

A while later, the screening of Eyes Wide Shut ended too. Jessie came out with a few companions. By the time they reached the entrance, they were yawning and looked utterly exhausted.

"I told you Tom Cruise had a poker face. He's fine in action movies, but whenever he plays a brooding character, I start nodding off," one of her companions complained.

"But the cinematography was beautiful. Tom's handsome, Nicole's gorgeous. I just wish the story had been shorter. A hundred and fifty minutes really wore me out," another offered.

"Never mind. It's late. I'll take you all home first. We can talk about it tomorrow." Jessie hurried everyone into the car.

She rolled down the window, enjoying the cool night breeze as it swept away the stuffy air of the theater. She could still faintly hear people calling the movie dull, confusing, and absurd.

A new day dawned. Sunlight came through the glass and refracted into a dreamy rainbow.

Irene squinted and reached toward the bedside table, feeling for the glass. The water was still warm. As it slid down her throat, she thought she heard someone reciting poetry. Who was in such a good mood this early in the morning?

After a quick wash, Irene changed and went downstairs. She found her agent sitting at the dining table, eating breakfast. "Good morning, Shelly. You're here early today."

"Sorry for dropping in unannounced. I wanted to share everyone's thoughts on Legally Blonde with you as soon as possible." Shelly quickly finished the sandwich on his plate. His briefcase sat open beside it, and the newspapers he'd brought were now in Francis's hands.

Before Irene could ask, her father handed her the newspaper. His expression was relaxed and unreadable.

Try searching by the author if you can't find the book by its title. Maybe it was just renamed!