Sitting among several large boxes in the small living room, Duke glanced at his California Institute of the Arts diploma, then tossed it into a junk box. He grabbed some tape, sealed the box shut, and prepared to ship it back to his home in Santa Monica tomorrow.

"So what if I graduated with straight A's from the film and video program? Tens of thousands of people come to Hollywood every year looking for opportunities, but how many of them actually make it?"

Talking to himself, Duke casually threw the tape onto the old sofa and returned to his bedroom to change clothes. "I've been in this world for twenty-one years, and yet I have accomplished nothing so far"

.....

As he said this, Duke sat down on a chair, and those memories resurfaced. Some things can never be fully forgotten.

Although he had lived in the Greater Los Angeles area for twenty-one years since being born in 1970, Duke could not forget the experiences from across the Pacific, as if they had happened just yesterday.

In his previous life, he graduated from a renowned film school abroad and spent some time working in the industry, but he didn't make much of a name for himself. In this industry, without the support of a company or a big player, it's incredibly difficult for a newcomer to stand out.

To climb the ladder toward his dream of becoming a film director, Duke worked in various positions across different film crews to gain experience. He even worked as an assistant in the props and pyrotechnics departments. Through hard work and dedication, he eventually became a well-known pyrotechnician in the industry, honing his skills in creating and filming explosions. By his mid-thirties, he landed a position as an assistant director on a low-budget war movie, specifically handling the explosion scenes.

However, before he could enjoy the satisfaction of early success, he was caught in an on-set explosion accident, and suddenly, he became Duke Rosenberg, a newborn in Los Angeles.

Fate was fair, in a way. It took away the potential success of his previous life but gave Duke a decent life in this one.

He grew up with his mother in a single-parent household. His mother, Leah Rosenberg, like most savvy Jewish people, had her own business. While not extraordinarily wealthy, she had a fortune of several million dollars. Most importantly, her advertising company had close business ties with Hollywood. Back in the 1970s, when George Lucas was still an unknown, the two families were close friends.

This time around, Duke wasn't naive. He knew exactly what he wanted and worked tirelessly toward it. His family environment provided him with ample opportunities as well. During his childhood and teenage years, he frequently visited the sets of Lucasfilm productions. He even played a small role in one of their films, although it was eventually cut out. Still, it was a rare experience.

On set, Duke observed the Hollywood style of production, silently familiarizing himself with every aspect of the world's film factory. This was the future path he had chosen.

Directing is a profession that requires intense focus and deep accumulation of experience. Apart from participating in a few sports he enjoyed, Duke dedicated most of his time to studying everything about filmmaking: screenwriting, cinematography, editing, and production management—key elements for success.

Like a sponge soaking up water, Duke absorbed any knowledge that could benefit him. After graduating from high school, instead of following his mother's suggestion to attend a business school, he enrolled at the California Institute of the Arts, a school closely tied to Hollywood and the film industry. At sixteen, he found himself an agent who was also a "newbie." Leveraging his family's broad connections, he worked as an extra and temporary crew member in numerous film crews to gain practical experience.

By now, Duke had appeared in over ten roles without lines or close-ups. He had also worked as a holiday temp on various productions, including Spielberg's film. Despite having accumulated over twenty years of experience across two lifetimes, he remained as thirsty for knowledge as a desert traveler searching for water, never feeling satisfied.

This was necessary not only for gaining experience but also for making a living.

As a member of the Rosenberg family, who his mother often spoke of with pride, Duke had been responsible for covering his own living expenses (beyond tuition) since the age of sixteen. No one could deny that learning to become an excellent director is an expensive process.

Purchasing books, expensive film stock, renting cameras, and shooting experimental films were all financial burdens that plagued Duke. Even now, having finally reached the legal age of twenty-one and graduated from the California Institute of the Arts, his financial situation had not improved. His credit card was still in the negative.

"So, what's the next step?"

Back home in Santa Monica, Duke could temporarily freeload off his mom's meals, but he urgently needed a suitable job. "In my past life, it took me over ten years of hard work just to become an assistant director. Do I really need to go through such a long process again?"

It was now 1991. With each passing year, his chances of success would decrease. Duke had already waited twenty-one years, accumulating over a decade of knowledge. Now, finally reaching legal adulthood, he was eager for an opportunity—an opportunity to direct a real film.

"But who doesn't need an opportunity? Who wanting to enter Hollywood doesn't need a chance?"

With this in mind, Duke stood up, opened his wardrobe, and took out his formal suit. He walked over to the dressing mirror. "Maybe Lovett can help me?"

Lovett was Duke's agent. Unlike Duke's years of stagnant temporary jobs, Lovett was skilled at navigating the industry. After years of hard work, he had become one of the younger agents at CAA, a company Duke knew all too well for its importance in Hollywood.

Duke's contract with CAA was about to expire, and this meeting with Lovett was meant to preliminarily discuss a renewal. With CAA's backing, Duke might be able to avoid many detours.

Taking off his loose loungewear and putting on the well-fitted suit, Duke examined himself in the mirror once again. As someone raised with good manners, he didn't want to make any mistakes in such an important meeting.

His neatly parted, dark brown hair inherited from his mother, a prominent nose, and deep-set eyes hinted at a depth and restraint beyond his years. His face had hard lines as if sculpted by Michelangelo himself.

"Maybe I'd be more successful as a leading man in a commercial film."

Looking at his clearly mixed-race features and his six-foot-one-inch frame, Duke couldn't help but entertain another thought, only to shake his head right after.

He wanted to be the one calling the shots on set, not a pretty face.

After a quick adjustment to his clothes, Duke left his rented apartment, locked the door, and headed downstairs. He got into his second-hand car and drove toward the California Institute of the Arts.

As a satellite city of Los Angeles, Valencia wasn't too big. Duke's apartment was also fairly close to the school. After driving past the main street and turning a couple of corners, his car arrived at the side gate of the California Institute of the Arts.

Lovett had chosen a café near the side gate for their meeting. Duke found a parking spot on the roadside, parked his car, and walked past a green space before pushing open the café's glass door.

Turning left after entering, Duke spotted Lovett in a quiet corner at the end of the hallway. To his surprise, there was someone else sitting with him.

"What's he doing here?"

Duke frowned for a moment before relaxing. He walked over, and Lovett, having seen him, nodded in his direction. "Duke."

"Hey, Lovett."

Duke greeted him familiarly, pulled out a chair, and sat across from Lovett. He then extended his hand to the person sitting next to Lovett. "Hello, Rick Solomon. Didn't expect to see you here."

The other person had no intention of shaking hands and simply waved.

Retracting his hand, Duke didn't look at Rick Solomon again. Rick was one of his classmates at the California Institute of the Arts, and their relationship was rather lukewarm. Back in school, they had directly competed against each other for spots on the football team and the affections of the cheerleading captain.

Of course, Rick Solomon had lost on both counts.

Duke wasn't here to squabble with him, though. He looked directly at Lovett, who, like all Hollywood agents, wore a sharp suit and bore a professional air of shrewdness and calm.

"Lovett."

Since Lovett hadn't spoken, Duke had to speak first. "About the new contract…"

"Sorry, Duke."

Lovett set down his coffee cup and interrupted him directly. "There are some things I didn't clarify over the phone. The main reason I'm here in Valencia today is to discuss a contract with Mr. Solomon…"

He paused briefly before continuing, unceremoniously, "CAA evaluates all its artists, Duke. Your acting is terrible and hasn't improved at all. As for your talk about becoming a director, sorry, I don't see any chance of success there. Therefore, neither CAA nor I will be renewing your contract."

Hearing the unexpected words, Duke looked up slightly, surprised, at his agent—his hope for a leg-up was slipping away…

"I'm sorry."

Though he said this, Lovett's expression showed no trace of apology. "The company has officially invited me to become one of its partners. From now on, I'll be managing several well-known artists, and I won't have the time or energy to plan a future for someo

Although Loevitt's expression remained professionally composed, Duke, who was no stranger to the ways of the industry, could detect the barely concealed satisfaction in his agent's slightly raised eyes and smiling lips.

Indeed, becoming a partner at CAA was a legitimate reason to feel proud, and dropping a seemingly unpromising talent like Duke was understandable.

In the blink of an eye, Duke's initial surprise vanished, replaced by his usual calm demeanor. He said nothing further.

"You know, Duke," Loevitt stood up, patting Duke on the shoulder as he passed, speaking with the condescension of someone in a superior position, "you've really let me down. You've played seventeen roles in five years, yet your career hasn't progressed at all. Let me give you some advice: you're not suited for this industry. Continuing down this path will only waste your time and energy."

With that, Loevitt walked out of the café without looking back at the person he'd worked with for five years, as if to demonstrate his complete abandonment of Duke.

"Did you hear that? You're not cut out for Hollywood."

This sharp and spiteful remark came from Rick Solomon, who hadn't left yet. Seeing Duke, who he assumed was hurting inside, Rick twisted the knife further. "Loevitt is considered one of the most insightful up-and-coming agents, but clearly, he misjudged you."