My Work, My Rules

The shooting day arrived as scheduled. From the very beginning of assembling the team, Irene had printed and distributed meticulously drawn storyboards to every crew member.

Not only that, she had also formulated a detailed daily shooting plan, allowing the entire team to advance their work clearly and efficiently. This not only made things easier for her but also greatly reduced the pressure of on-site coordination.

"Lighting technician, could you make it a bit brighter? I need that sense of brilliance that comes from direct sunlight, thank you."

"Wardrobe, the backup dancer on the top left is having a wardrobe malfunction. Please get her a longer skirt."

"Makeup artist, Brit's braids are tied too tightly, making her face look a bit round. Please adjust them to be fluffier and leave some space. You can add some colorful hair ties to the braids; we need it to look beautiful and set a trend."

"Brit, please give us more smiles during the group dance section so the audience can feel your sweetness and approachability."

Throughout the morning, Irene was almost constantly coordinating details across various departments. Even for a music video, achieving the exact effect she envisioned was no easy task.

Taking advantage of a break while Britney was touching up her makeup, she announced a ten-minute rest and headed to the lounge to get some water. Passing by the changing area, she inadvertently heard someone mention her name.

"Is that Irene Coppola a bit too young? Is she even an adult?"

"Not sure, haven't heard of her before. She just dropped in out of nowhere."

"Why didn't they use our own directors? Why go through all this trouble for a few scenes... Probably just another connection hire here to practice."

"Her last name is Coppola, what do you expect? Besides, we get paid by the day; the longer she drags this out, the happier I am."

"True enough."

She didn't stop walking, nor did she intend to join the conversation. Some things are better left unheard.

It wasn't just on set; even the crew of Angels on Earth not far away had noticed her.

"Another Coppola, tsk, she really has a charmed life." Michael Schultz took advantage of the break to chat with his assistant.

"Director Michael, how can someone relying on connections compare to you? A music video is nothing; our show is adapted from City of Angels, it's bound to be a hit!" The assistant quickly handed over a freshly brewed cup of black tea.

"You don't understand. Even if she is a connection hire, being able to direct independently at this age is no small feat. Otherwise, the producers would have sent an assistant director to supervise her long ago." Michael blew on his tea and said indifferently.

He had reached where he was today by being low-key and avoiding offense; loose lips sinking ships was all too common in Hollywood.

"Yes, yes, we still have much to learn from you."

Irene pushed hard and finally completed the day's shooting plan before sunset. Britney was also exhausted, finding it no easier than dance practice.

"If things go smoothly, you can take a break after we finish your solo parts tomorrow."

That night, the two lay in the apartment Irene had rented temporarily, with a professional masseuse giving them a full-body relaxation treatment. The lounge chairs were accented with sleep-inducing aromatherapy and a fresh fruit platter.

"Irene, you really know how to enjoy life. You even brought Ophelia with you to work," Britney said enviously while eating fruit.

"Of course, I couldn't survive without Ophelia."

"Are you going to take her with you when you go to school?"

"Of course. Ophelia, would you be willing?" Irene turned her head to ask.

"My lady, I am willing to follow you wherever you go." Ophelia, who was ironing Irene's clothes for tomorrow by the window, replied softly.

"No fair, I'm so jealous! Once I get famous, I'm going to hire three—no, ten housekeepers to wait on me!" Britney said "indignantly."

"Don't worry, by next year, even if you hire eight or ten assistants, the company won't stop you."

"But do you really think I'll be a big hit? I'm afraid I'll end up like Aimee Mann—clearly very talented, but no one pays attention." Britney's tone revealed deep insecurity.

Irene sometimes forgot that the Britney before her was still just a girl full of confusion about her future, not the superstar tempered by life.

She reached out and held the other girl's hand tightly.

"If you don't believe in yourself, can't you at least believe in me? Relax and enjoy this last bit of peace before your debut. Once the music video airs, the whole United States will know you. By then, wanting freedom will be the hard part." She tried to comfort her with a light tone, but pre-debut anxiety was a lesson every singer had to face.

Even the future superstar Britney Spears was no exception.

The next morning at eight, shooting continued.

"Brit, your eyes aren't focused enough. I need to see longing. Imagine that what is in front of you is the thing you want most but have never been able to get. There needs to be an intense sense of possessiveness."

"No, no, honey, don't just stare blankly."

Irene hadn't expected that near the end, Britney would get stuck on the eye acting, which required the most expressiveness.

"Someone, get Brit some eye drops to make her eyes look a bit more moist."

Twenty minutes passed, and she still hadn't captured the ideal shot. She had to give up; some things, perhaps, could only be left to the audience's imagination.

As soon as the music video shoot ended, Irene took the footage straight to the editing room at the Warner Film Base. The well-equipped facilities saved her the trouble of finding an outside venue.

Without outside interference, she followed her own judgment and deleted many of the sexually suggestive movements, making the entire dance look more youthful and vibrant.

She also added some interactive scenes of Britney and her backup dancers playing around like classmates. It wasn't much, but it perfectly highlighted her approachability.

However, when she returned to Jive with the finished product, ready to discuss promotional matters with Carl and the others, she was met with strong opposition from Director Nelson.

"This is edited like a game of house; there's no appeal at all." Jerry Nelson didn't even put down his cigarette, acting like a completely different person from their last meeting.

Irene fanned away the drifting smoke with her hand and strode toward the window, pushing it open with a "whoosh."

"I thought Mr. Nelson would at least know that smoking indoors is harmful to others' health." She didn't rush to argue, knowing full well the other party wasn't looking for an explanation, but simply wanted to assert dominance and suppress her momentum.

"Oh, sorry, forgot." Jerry apologized, though the cigarette remained between his fingers.

"Miss Coppola, first of all, thank you very much for your effort in making this music video so... 'perfect.' But you might be too young to understand the market's expectations for pop singers; a certain level of sexiness is necessary. I don't think fans will like an idol who looks like a primary school student."

If it were someone else, they might have compromised. After all, whether the backup dancers' movements were sexy or not didn't have much impact on the director. But now that it was Britney in front of the lens, Irene would never back down easily.

"First, we are building a teen idol, not a street performer. Her primary task is to showcase youth and vitality; sexiness can be left for the next stage."

"Second, it is precisely because I am young that I understand the thoughts of my peers better. Mr. Nelson, I have to say your concepts are a bit outdated. I suggest you listen more to the opinions of your young assistants and absorb some fresh perspectives."

"Third, I am in charge of this music video. The contract terms are written clearly, and I have final cut authority. Please respect the spirit of the contract."