"So, you're telling me that a producer whom I've never even met wants to cast Catherine in a role from a script she wrote. Is that right?" Vincent asked, swirling the wine in his glass.
"Yes, that's correct," Susan replied with a shrug, then sat down in front of her husband.
"This is interesting. I'm curious how this lady, who hasn't even met us, is so sure I would agree," Vincent mused, rubbing his chin.
"So, do you agree?" Susan asked with a smile.
"Of course—not!" Vincent placed his glass on the table and spread his hands. "Put Catherine in that world of vanity? You must be joking. I'd have to be crazy."
"Well, don't you think you should talk to her about it?"
"No, I can discuss anything else, but on this matter—absolutely not!" Vincent shook his head firmly, then looked at his wife with curiosity. "Did you agree?"
"I neither agreed nor disagreed," Susan continued to smile, then suddenly shifted the topic. "You know, darling, you just reminded me of my father, the way he was ten years ago."
"Are you saying I'm as crude, unreasonable, and authoritarian as he was ten years ago?" Vincent raised an eyebrow.
"I only said the first part. The second part was all you," Susan said, raising her index finger.
Vincent shook his head with a smile, then sighed. "Susan, I can't help being authoritarian. Yes, Catherine will inevitably have to learn to navigate those insincere social interactions and deal with various people, but it certainly shouldn't be now! Not under the spotlight, not with the media hounding her. Public figures have no private life, and I won't subject my child to the constant gaze of the paparazzi. That would be irresponsible."
"But what about Catherine? She can be as stubborn as I am," Susan remarked, leisurely continuing the conversation.
Vincent frowned. This was indeed a problem... Wait a minute! He looked at his wife again. "I say, darling, what's gotten into you today? Yesterday you were worried about Catherine growing up too fast, but now..."
"But you also said yesterday that we should trust her," Susan interrupted, sighing. "Vincent, you know, when Mrs. Meyers first made her proposition today, I immediately refused. But… she convinced me."
Vincent blinked, remaining silent.
"She didn't demand or request that we agree to anything. She simply suggested that she and Catherine have a private conversation, and then we have a private conversation with Catherine. She said she completely trusts that Catherine has the mindset and judgment of an adult."
"Hah, that convinced you? That doesn't sound like you, Susan," Vincent shrugged noncommittally.
"I told you, I neither agreed nor disagreed. I just agreed to let them have a private conversation. I'm genuinely curious to hear what our precocious little girl has to say." Susan stood up suddenly, signaling her husband to be quiet, then listened carefully. A subtle smile appeared on her lips. "It seems Catherine has made her decision."
Vincent tilted his head to listen, then quickly moved to the window, pulling back the curtain and opening it. A melodious violin tune flowed in, sometimes clear and sometimes intense, sometimes filled with the fury of a storm, sometimes carrying a sense of resistance and defiance against fate, and finally, it seemed as if two butterflies were dancing in a rainbow after the rain. This was the tune Catherine often played when she faced difficulties or had trouble making a decision—"Butterfly Lovers"!
"To be honest, I have a bad feeling about this," Vincent sighed, turning back. "Didn't you have a talk with her first?"
"Vincent, you're the father," Susan shrugged.
"Yes, yes, the father is always the bad guy," Vincent scratched his head. "Alright, I'll talk to her, but don't expect me to agree to anything!"
As the final note resonated through her fingertips, Catherine sighed in relief, lowering the violin from her shoulder. She had played the violin solo of "Butterfly Lovers" countless times. Though it lacked the grandeur of a concerto, each performance still immersed her deeply.
In her past life, Catherine had been very fond of "Butterfly Lovers." After her rebirth, at the age of seven, she had the honor of listening to Mr. Sheng Zhongguo's performance at Carnegie Hall in New York. Since then, she had made the solo version of "Butterfly Lovers" one of her must-learn violin pieces. Whenever she faced setbacks or had difficulty making decisions, she would play this piece to find support and encouragement.
Catherine carefully placed her violin back in its case and sighed. She had never thought she would be asked to star in "The Parent Trap." She always assumed Nancy would seek out Hollywood's current young stars, like Christina Ricci or Kirsten Dunst. But to her surprise, Nancy had come to her!
"Catherine, I'm not here to promise or entice you. You are the smartest, most mature girl I have ever met. When I was your age, I was still playing with dolls. I'm here to ask for your help."
"No, no, no, don't reject me so quickly, Catherine. You should know, I am a perfectionist. 'The Parent Trap' will be an excellent work—as long as you are in it. I can't think of anyone more suitable than you. You yourself admit the girl in the script is a reflection of you. You understand your own work better than anyone, don't you?"
"Nobody is born knowing how to act, dear. But life is about trying new things, not regretting missed opportunities. Yes, I know your family can achieve many things easily, but is that really what you want?"
"No, it doesn't matter. As long as you are willing, even if your parents don't agree, I know my visit wasn't in vain, okay?"
At any other time, Catherine would have outright refused. She had no interest in flaunting herself in Hollywood—oh, this "flaunting" was just her perception. Even though she had lived as a little girl for eleven years, she had integrated well into this family. Still, some things were hard to change, like her dislike of wearing skirts and stockings. To think of herself dressed provocatively like the actresses of her previous life in front of the paparazzi made her more uncomfortable than anything! Sure, she might be overthinking, but who knows what the future holds, especially now that she's on the doorstep of Hollywood.
But Nancy's words came on the same day Jessica had firmly declared her dreams to her. This left Catherine feeling at a loss. Yes, she had no ambition and could live her life easily. She had a loving family, caring parents, and even without relying on them, she could always plagiarize a few scripts, buy some stocks, and avoid financial crises. Maybe she wouldn't achieve great success, but she could live comfortably.
However, was that really what she wanted? To end up like her previous life, merely existing? As Nancy said, life is about trying new things. In her past life, she didn't have the conditions. But now? Jessica had her own goals and would eventually succeed. But what about her?
"Alright, I'll accept. It won't kill me, after all. It's just this once," Catherine muttered, clenching her small fists. If she said she had no desire for Hollywood at all, that would be a lie. She had watched so many classic films in her previous life, and the idea of being part of one was intriguing. So, she finally made up her mind. However, the next problem was how to convince her parents.
Knock, knock, knock. The sound of knocking interrupted her thoughts. Catherine turned to see her father standing at the door. "Hi, dear, can we talk?"
Speak of the devil. The little girl thought to herself. She shrugged, "Dad, did Mom tell you?"
"Yes," Vincent nodded, walking in and sitting on the chair by the bed. "So, Catherine, can you tell me what you're thinking?"
Catherine scratched her head. She knew that her father, despite his always polite and gentle demeanor, was nearly impossible to sway once he made a decision. Apart from her mother, almost no one could change his mind. To convince him, she would need to be very persuasive.
"Alright, but…" The little girl's eyes sparkled with mischief as she dragged a stool over to sit in front of her father, crossing her arms. "We play 'Yes or No'!"
Vincent raised an eyebrow. Clearly, she had a plan. Otherwise, she wouldn't suggest playing 'Yes or No' now. This was a game they often played when she was younger. One person asked questions, and the other could only respond with 'yes' or 'no,' without evading any questions. It was much like a courtroom debate. Vincent often used this tactic when she made mistakes but wouldn't admit them. The game tested the questioner's skill in crafting questions to trap the other. But now, Vincent felt like he might be the one walking into a trap.
"Alright, but…" her father raised an eyebrow, "I go first."
"No problem," Catherine said confidently, extending a hand. "Five questions each!"
"Alright," Vincent's interest was piqued. He crossed his arms and straightened up. "Then, let's begin!"