Global Film Emperor

Chapter 558 Stella's First Day

"Huff...huff...it's over, it's over."

A sound of running accompanied by heavy breathing came from nearby. Without even looking over, you could tell from the heavy thud of the feet hitting the ground that this was not someone with a good athletic background.

The little white sneakers ran wildly across the wet ground, ignoring the puddles in front of them. One foot stepped into the water, splashing water everywhere, soaking the other trouser leg as well.

The fine rain kept pattering against her face. The red umbrella she was holding was completely useless. Instead, it was blown inside out by the wind, like she was holding a giant toilet plunger. Eventually, it couldn't bear the weight, and the umbrella fabric tore off the ribs, flying halfway in the air. She paused for two seconds, then stomped her foot, shoved the umbrella haphazardly into a roadside trash can, and then ran off again.

She glanced at her wrist; five minutes to go. The smartwatch's navigation showed 700 meters to go. As if she could see the light at the end of the tunnel, some of her previously exhausted energy surged back up. She shouted herself hoarse to encourage herself, and then ran like a madwoman along the forest path. If you didn't see her running, no one would doubt that she was about to become a super racer.

Go straight for 400 meters, turn left, then turn right at the next intersection to cross the road and reach your destination! Rush through the park gate, head straight for the main building, climb the steps using both hands and feet, and finally cling to the window of the mailroom, panting heavily with a half-kneeling posture.

The old man in the mailroom was startled when he heard the noise and looked over. He thought that someone with a weaker heart would probably die instantly. Old Gil clutched his chest, glanced out the window, and only after confirming that it was daytime did he ask the disheveled, wet, female-like creature pressed against the glass.

"Can I help you?"

“I…I…I’m a member of the crew of Mr. Mickey Taylor. I…I’m Sterry…Sterry Kerr. May I ask where the crew’s meeting room is? I’m going to be late.”

"Oh, let me check the visitor list, just a moment."

"Please... I'm going to be late, I... I'm doomed, please, sir."

The girl's voice was already trembling with tears, and Jill couldn't help but start to get anxious. However, the routine registration couldn't be skipped, so he could only comfort the girl while quickly flipping through the list. He smiled when he saw the girl's name, but when he looked up at her again, he couldn't help but freeze in shock.

Slender fingers ran through rain-dampened brown hair, revealing a fair and delicate face to Jill. Plenty of collagen softened her features; her slightly reddish eyes needed no eyeshadow, their amber hues swirling within them. The bridge of her nose traced a graceful arc along her high brow bone, unlike a straight nose that might give her a cold air. Her fair skin lacked the freckles often seen on Caucasians, and paired with naturally full red lips, her face possessed a captivating blend of youthful innocence and femininity, tinged with a touch of sensuality. She was currently pleadingly peering at him from the window, a truly sweet surprise.

"turn up……"

"I've left my student ID with you, sir. I'll take it when I leave. Sir, where is the meeting room?"

"Go through the door behind the stairs, the building on your left is the top floor."

"Thank you."

She slapped her student ID against the window, gritted her teeth, and forced her aching legs to push open the back door and start running again. However, this old building without an elevator was practically killing her, to the point that she didn't even notice the movie props she usually liked to look at. She went up to the fourth floor and stood in front of the conference room door, her hands on her knees, panting heavily. She glanced at the time one last time and knocked on the door with thirty seconds left.

"Enter."

Forcing herself to overcome her fear, she pushed open the door. Before seeing anyone inside, she was hit by a strong, pungent smell of tobacco, which made her frown slightly. Then she saw a dozen or so men, several of whom were quite burly, their heavily sculpted arms as thick as her thighs. They were fiddling with something in their hands, glancing at her sideways; the whole scene resembled a gangster gathering. The man who frightened her the most was sitting in the chair opposite her, a cigarette dangling from his lips. He tossed the papers he was holding onto the table, crossed his legs, arms crossed, and looked at her with displeasure.

"You're late on the very first day of the meeting?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Mickey..."

She wasn't late; she was at least ten seconds late. But she knew the best option now was to apologize directly, rather than pull out her watch to prove she arrived on time, or explain that her mother had rear-ended an African American woman who didn't speak English, and the two almost got into a fight on the road, causing her to run seven kilometers in the wind and rain—all things that were meaningless to her boss.

Especially when it comes to explaining to someone she'd heard so much about, a notorious scoundrel known as the Liverpool big hooligan, that's why she was so flustered the whole way. If she dared to argue, she'd probably get a severe dressing down.

Clearly, beauty couldn't soften Mickey's heart. He stubbed out his cigarette, his gaze still fixed on the girl, and said rudely, "I'll always be there five to ten minutes before the scheduled time. I hope that every day from now on, I can spot you immediately upon my arrival, understand?"

"Yes, I'm sorry."

She stood at the doorway, her hands behind her back, her gaze darting away, not daring to look Mickey in the eye. But as she lowered her eyes, she happened to see a somewhat thin, large hand extinguish a cigarette that had just been lit, and then elbow the burly man next to him, causing him to hurriedly extinguish his cigarette as well. When the others in the room saw this, they followed suit and threw their cigarettes into the ashtray.

The tall but excessively thin man got up, turned the exhaust fan to its maximum, and opened the window. Only then did his pleasant male voice reach her ears.

"sit down."

Her gaze shifted to the man standing by the window. The fear in her eyes had lessened considerably, replaced by a hint of excitement. Lu Ze had seen that kind of expression when meeting an idol many times, so he simply nodded without exchanging any further words with her, and lowered his head to pick up the script and continue studying.

There always needs to be a boss on set, and as subordinates, they naturally have to follow the boss's rules. Even Lu Ze wouldn't play the good guy and break Mickey's rules.

Most of the time, conflicts are easy to resolve, requiring only a few words of criticism to gloss over. Even misunderstandings can be resolved in silence. However, if a "peacemaker" gets involved, the conflict will only escalate to a deeper level. The person being criticized may easily rely on the "peacemaker," and over time, the conflict will erupt in a more unacceptable form. Lu Ze is neither a manipulative person nor someone who is obsessed with appearances, and he is on Mickey's side, so he naturally won't pretend to be a pushover and speak up for the girl.

She breathed a sigh of relief, found an empty seat and sat down. The man next to her handed her a tissue to wipe the rain. After thanking him softly, before she could even dry herself, she heard Mickey speak again.

"Come on, our leading lady has arrived. Stella, please introduce yourself."

"it is good."

She quickly put down the tissue and finally mustered the courage to look around and speak.

“I am Stella Kerr, a former child star who has never acted in a movie. I am sixteen years old this year.”

"..."