Disney's cocktail party was held on the third floor of the Pelago Hotel. Whether this was intentional or coincidental, who could say? However, the little girl had many thoughts as she reminisced about the three or four days of filming there, though it didn't make the party any less boring for her.
Catherine tapped the floor lightly with her shoe heel, grateful that it was a low heel and wouldn't hurt her feet. She wandered aimlessly around the hall. She had attended a few similar parties before, sometimes accompanying her parents to gatherings at their Beverly Hills villa. But they were always dull. Guests grouped together, discussing topics of mutual interest—men talked about business and women, while women talked about beauty and gossip. These were not conversations a little girl could participate in. And who would discuss such things with a child anyway?
There was always something to do at these parties, though. Catherine walked over to the table and took a small piece of smoked fish cake, popping it into her mouth and chewing slowly. She nodded at first, then frowned slightly.
"How is it? Doesn't taste good?" a voice asked from beside her.
"It's fine. Compared to the chefs at Buckingham Palace, this one is more imaginative but lacks technique. My personal suggestion is to be more conservative until they perfect their new method for smoking fish," she answered without thinking. Realizing who she was talking to, she looked over and saw Nancy standing next to her, a bit surprised.
Catherine wasn't fazed at all and shrugged. "Just joking."
Nancy smiled. "I thought you were turning into a gourmet critic."
"Are you complimenting me or teasing me?" Catherine blinked.
"Actually, I wanted to thank you," Nancy said earnestly.
Being well-informed about movie news, Catherine knew why. She felt a bit embarrassed; she had only given Nancy the recognition she deserved. Moreover, Nancy had originally written the script herself. Being praised by the original author made Catherine blush slightly, despite her thick skin.
She quickly replied, "No, Nancy. Without you and Mr. Charles, the script would have just been a script. I'm glad you turned it into a movie. I believe sending it to you was the right decision."
Nancy smiled slightly. "Without you, 'The Parent Trap' wouldn't be nearly as good."
"Not necessarily. Without Julia and Meg, then it would lose a lot," Catherine said modestly. Not wanting to dwell on the topic, she changed the subject, "Did you receive the script for 'Sleepless in Seattle'?"
"Yes, but why did you send it to me?" Nancy asked, puzzled.
"Because I thought it would be interesting," Catherine said with a mischievous smile, not admitting she had accidentally sent it out due to a mistake by Jennifer.
"Okay, then. Did you include two drawings of Tom Hanks with the script?" Nancy asked.
"Yes," Catherine answered promptly. "Why, do you think he's unsuitable?"
"It's hard to say, Cathy. I..." Nancy started to say but was interrupted by Catherine, "Nancy, if you trust me, just choose Mr. Hanks. I believe he won't disappoint you."
Nancy was puzzled. She couldn't understand why Catherine had such confidence in Tom Hanks, even though he was indeed suitable for the role. Catherine knew she was pushing too hard, so she shrugged. "Honestly, when I wrote the script, I based the characters on Meg and Mr. Hanks. But if you think someone else is better, it's up to you."
As Nancy pondered, her husband, Mr. Charles, came over and whispered something in her ear. Nancy nodded and apologized to Catherine, "Sorry, Cathy, I have to go."
"Go ahead," Catherine said, making a polite gesture.
Watching Nancy join her husband and another group of three men and a woman, Catherine looked around again. The big-mouthed sister didn't come, and the sweet sister was chatting with her husband and others. Still bored, she walked toward the window. If Hanks and Meg, the on-screen couple, couldn't appear together due to various circumstances, then it would just have to be that way. Not everything could follow the original path, especially with her being a major influence. She briefly wondered what might have happened if she had sent the script to the original author and director, Nora Ephron. But it was a fleeting thought since the script was already with Nancy, who was just as talented.
At that moment, Catherine's gaze fell on a boy standing by the window. It was rare to see someone her age at a cocktail party. The boy looked about thirteen or fourteen, with brown hair parted to the right, almost covering his face. One hand was in his pocket, and he was fiddling with a decorative Newton's cradle on a small table by the window, a roguish smile on his face, contrasting with his black suit.
Sensing he was being watched, the boy turned to look at Catherine. He froze, as if seeing something astonishing. His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to say something but couldn't utter a word, staring straight at her.
Although Catherine had often been stared at by many, this time she sensed something different in the boy's gaze, which made her heart race. Seeing that he remained silent, she cleared her throat and asked, "Is there something on my face?"
"Oh, I apologize," the boy snapped out of his daze, blushing and looking flustered. He quickly composed himself, straightened his collar, and gave a slight bow. "Hello, esteemed lady, I am—"
"John Connor, the savior of humanity, I know," Catherine said seriously. She had recognized him immediately; after all, the movie was a classic. It was quite surprising that Disney managed to invite them, which was a delightful surprise.
The boy scratched his head awkwardly and then spread his hands helplessly. "Alright, miss, if you want me to lead humanity to save the world, you'll have to wait another six years."
"No problem, if the producers agree, you can start leading all of humanity tomorrow," Catherine said with a mischievous grin, glancing around. "Did Mr. T-800 come too?"
"Yes, but Mr. T-1000 couldn't make it. However, their creator did," the boy replied, raising his eyebrows.
"You mean 'Skynet' is here?" Catherine asked deliberately.
"No, no, no," the boy shook his head vigorously and then flashed a wicked smile. "I mean the balding, bearded old man who loves to curse."
"That's not very nice," Catherine said, wagging her finger. "How can you talk about your stepfather like that?"
The boy was momentarily stunned but quickly understood. Though surprised by Catherine's knowledge, he joked, "Dear lady, strictly speaking, Mr. T-800 should be my stepfather."
Catherine tilted her head thoughtfully. "Alright, you got me there. So, can you tell me where they are?"
The boy cleared his throat and extended his hand politely to Catherine. "Nice to meet you, I'm Edward Furlong. May I know your name, miss?"
"Catherine Mason. Nice to meet you too," Catherine replied, shaking his hand reluctantly. Although their conversation had been amusing, it didn't mean she wanted to be friends with him. After all, Edward Furlong was a classic example of a child star who went astray—fame at a young age, then drugs and irresponsibility as he grew older, eventually ruining his image. Such people were fine for a casual chat, but she didn't want any more involvement, especially given her own experiences.
"Catherine Mason?" Edward seemed to remember something and scratched his head before realizing, "Oh my God, you're one of the girls from 'The Parent Trap'!"
He took a step back in surprise, looking her up and down. "You're much prettier in person than in the movie. Your... your eyes are very captivating."
Despite living in the U.S. since birth, Catherine still sometimes found their directness jarring. She cleared her throat. "Can you tell me where the director is?"
Edward, sensing that Catherine didn't want to continue the conversation, didn't insist and politely pointed her in the right direction. Following his directions, Catherine soon spotted the governor's large frame.
"Thank you, Mr. Furlong," she said, smiling politely at Edward, her lips curving charmingly.
"The pleasure is mine. You can call me Edward," he replied, seizing the opportunity.
"You can call me Catherine," she said with some resignation. "If it's alright, can we talk later?"
"Of course, it would be an honor," Edward said, straightening his collar again, trying to appear gentlemanly despite the ill-fitting suit. With his good looks, he was sure to be popular among fans.
But Catherine was indifferent to his charm. She gave him a smile and walked away without looking back.