The Disney reception was held on the third floor of the Parage Hotel, a location that may have been chosen deliberately or simply by chance. However, as the young girl reminisced about the three or four days she spent filming at this venue, a plethora of emotions washed over her. Yet, despite these sentiments, her boredom with the reception remained unchanged.
Angela lightly tapped the floor with her low-heeled shoes, grateful for their comfort that spared her heels from any discomfort. She aimlessly wandered around the lobby, lost in her thoughts.
This wasn't her first time attending similar receptions; her parents often hosted parties at their lavish Beverly Hills villa. However, they always seemed monotonous to her.
The guests would gather in small groups of two or three, engrossed in discussions that held no interest to her.
Men would delve into conversations about their careers and relationships, while women would engage in talks about beauty and gossip.
These were not topics in which a young girl could participate. Besides, would anyone even bother discussing such matters with a little girl?
Nevertheless, receptions always presented opportunities for engagement. Angela made her way to the dining table and delicately picked up a small smoked fish cake, savoring its flavors as she slowly chewed. Her initial nod of approval gradually transformed into a furrowed brow.
"How is it? Does it not taste good?" a voice chimed in from beside her.
"It's alright. Compared to the chef at Buckingham Palace, the food here is more imaginative but lacks some culinary techniques. Personally, I suggest they stick to a more conservative approach until they perfect the modern smoked fish technique," the little girl replied without hesitation, but then she looked over to her side and saw Nancy standing there, looking somewhat surprised.
Angela remained composed and casually shrugged. "Just messing with you."
Nancy chuckled, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "I thought you were about to unleash your inner food critic again."
Angela blinked, her curiosity piqued. "Are you giving me a compliment or teasing me?"
Nancy's expression softened as she spoke earnestly, "Actually, I wanted to thank you."
Being well-informed about movie news, Angela knew why. She began to feel a bit embarrassed, as she had only brought forward the honors that Nancy deserved and, moreover, it was her own script initially. Being praised like this by the original author, even if the little girl had thick skin, she couldn't help but blush slightly.
She quickly said, "No, Nancy, if it weren't for you and Mr. Sawyer, this script would have just remained a script. I'm glad you made it into a movie. I believe I did the right thing when I sent it to you."
Nancy smiled faintly. "If it weren't for you "The Parent Trap" would have lost much of its charm."
"That's not necessarily true. Without Julia and Meg, it would have lost much more," Angela humbly replied. She didn't want to say much on this topic and asked another question, "Did you receive the script for "Sleepless in Seattle"?"
Nancy appeared puzzled and questioned, "But why did you send it to me?"
Angela giggled mischievously. "Because I thought it would make things more interesting." She kept her mistake of Jennifer sending it out unintentionally to herself.
Nancy's curiosity persisted as she inquired about the two drawings inserted in the script. "And what about the two drawings? Are they meant to depict Mr. Tom Hanks?"
"Yes," Angela answered confidently. "Why? Do you think it's not suitable?"
Nancy was about to express her thoughts when Angela interrupted her, saying, "Nancy, if you trust me, go with Mr. Hanks. I believe he won't disappoint you." Nancy couldn't help but feel puzzled.
She didn't understand why Angela had such unwavering confidence in Tom Hanks, despite acknowledging that he was indeed a perfect fit for the role. Angela realized she had been overly enthusiastic and shrugged, admitting, "To be honest, when I was writing this script, I envisioned Meg and Mr. Hanks in the lead roles. However, if you feel it's not suitable, the final decision is yours to make."
While Nancy was contemplating, her husband, Mr. Charles, approached and whispered something in her ear. Nancy nodded and then smiled apologetically at Angela. "I'm sorry, Angie, I have to leave for something."
"Please, go ahead," Angela gestured politely.
Watching Nancy exchange greetings with her husband and three other men and women, Angela looked around. Her talkative Big Sister didn't come, and her Sweetheart Sister and her husband were engaged in conversation with someone else.
The reception remained uninteresting.
With a sigh, she strolled towards the window, seeking solace in the view outside. If circumstances prevented Tom Hanks and Meg, the beloved on-screen couple, from continuing their collaboration, Angela accepted it.
Not everything would follow the original path, and her actions had already set the butterfly effect in motion. However, a fleeting thought crossed her mind—what if she had sent the script to the original author and director, Nora Ephron? She quickly dismissed the idea.
After all, she had entrusted the script to Nancy, who was undoubtedly as capable as Nora. Dwelling on hypotheticals served no purpose.
In that instant, Angela's eyes locked onto a boy standing near the window. It was unusual to come across someone her own age at the party.
The boy, appearing to be around thirteen or fourteen years old, had his brown hair neatly parted to the right, partially obscuring the right side of his face. With one hand casually tucked in his pocket, he playfully toyed with a decorative ball resting on a small table beside the window. A mischievous smile graced his lips, a contrasting touch to his formal black suit.
As if sensing that he was being watched, the boy turned his head and looked at Angela. Then he froze as if he had seen something shocking.
His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. He just stared at her intently.
Despite Angela's past experiences of being observed, there was a distinct quality to the boy's gaze that set it apart. It caused her heart to flutter with a hint of excitement.
Sensing his silence, she cleared her throat softly and inquired, "Is there something on my face?"
"Oh, I'm sorry," the boy snapped out of his daze, his face blushing slightly with a mix of nervousness and embarrassment. But he swiftly composed himself, adjusting his collar and offering a slight bow.
"Hello, esteemed young lady, I am..."
"John Connor, the savior of mankind, I know," Angela interjected earnestly. The moment she laid eyes on him, she recognized him. After all, that movie was a classic, and it was quite surprising that Disney had managed to invite such prominent figures.
The boy scratched his head once more, his face flushing with embarrassment, before spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "Well, Miss, if you're counting on me to lead humanity in saving the Earth, you'll have to wait at least six more years."
"That's alright. If the producers give their approval, you can take charge of leading all of humanity starting tomorrow," Angela exclaimed with a cheerful tone, scanning the surroundings. "By the way, is Mr. T-800 also present?"
"Yes, he's here. However, Mr. T-1000 couldn't make it due to some circumstances. Nonetheless, their creators are in attendance," the boy raised an eyebrow.
"Are you referring to 'Skynet' being here?" Angela asked playfully.
"No, no, no," the boy shook his head vigorously, mimicking a drumroll, then a mischievous smile appeared on his face. "I'm talking about the old man with receding hair, a scruffy beard, and a fondness for colorful language."
"This is problematic," the little girl raised her finger, shaking it disapprovingly. "How can you make such statements about your stepfather?"
The boy blinked, a flicker of comprehension crossing his face. Despite being taken aback by the girl's knowledge, he playfully replied, "My apologies, dear Miss. If we're being precise, Mr. T-800 would be considered my stepfather."
Angela tilted her head, pondering for a moment before responding, "Fair enough. So, could you kindly inform me of their whereabouts?"
At that moment, the boy cleared his throat politely and extended his hand toward the little girl. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Edward Furlong. Might I inquire about your name, miss?"
"Angela Mason," Angela replied, reluctantly shaking his hand.
While their conversation had been intriguing, it didn't imply that she desired a friendship with him. After all, Edward Furlong, like many former child stars in Hollywood, had faced personal challenges as he grew older, involving substance abuse and neglect of his career. Over the years, his public image had been completely tarnished.
Angela was content with engaging in occasional conversations with someone like him, whether in this life or a previous one. However, she held reservations about individuals of his kind. Besides, she was still just a young girl.
"Angela Mason?" Edward seemed to have a moment of realization as he scratched his head before his eyes widened in surprise. "Oh my God! You're one of the two little girls from 'The Parent Trap'?!"
Taken aback, he took a step back, thoroughly studying Angela from head to toe, and then exclaimed, "You are even more stunning than you appeared in the movie. Your... your eyes are absolutely captivating."
Even though the little girl had been living in the United States her entire life, she still found their straightforwardness somewhat unfamiliar. She cleared her throat softly and inquired, "Could you please inform me of the whereabouts of the director and the others?"
Edward, now perceptive to Angela's lack of interest in further conversation, tactfully indicated the right direction and skillfully guided her through the crowd.
Angela effortlessly caught sight of the towering figure of the future governor through the gaps.
"Thank you, Edward," the little girl said with a smile, graciously acknowledging his help. Her lips curved slightly, adding to her already adorable appearance.
"It's my pleasure to be of assistance. Feel free to call me Edward," the boy responded, skillfully playing along.
"You can call me Angela as well," the little girl sighed. "If you don't mind, let's catch up later, alright?"
"It would be an honor" Edward adjusted his collar once more, despite its mismatch with his suit, exuding an air of gentlemanly demeanor. With his handsome appearance, he was confident that fans of 'ikemen' would adore him.
However, Angela completely disregarded his charm, offered him a smile, and walked away without glancing back.
The Disney reception was held on the third floor of the Parage Hotel, a location that may have been chosen deliberately or simply by chance. However, as the young girl reminisced about the three or four days she spent filming at this venue, a plethora of emotions washed over her. Yet, despite these sentiments, her boredom with the reception remained unchanged.
Angela lightly tapped the floor with her low-heeled shoes, grateful for their comfort that spared her heels from any discomfort. She aimlessly wandered around the lobby, lost in her thoughts.
This wasn't her first time attending similar receptions; her parents often hosted parties at their lavish Beverly Hills villa. However, they always seemed monotonous to her.
The guests would gather in small groups of two or three, engrossed in discussions that held no interest to her.
Men would delve into conversations about their careers and relationships, while women would engage in talks about beauty and gossip.
These were not topics in which a young girl could participate. Besides, would anyone even bother discussing such matters with a little girl?
Nevertheless, receptions always presented opportunities for engagement. Angela made her way to the dining table and delicately picked up a small smoked fish cake, savoring its flavors as she slowly chewed. Her initial nod of approval gradually transformed into a furrowed brow.
"How is it? Does it not taste good?" a voice chimed in from beside her.
"It's alright. Compared to the chef at Buckingham Palace, the food here is more imaginative but lacks some culinary techniques. Personally, I suggest they stick to a more conservative approach until they perfect the modern smoked fish technique," the little girl replied without hesitation, but then she looked over to her side and saw Nancy standing there, looking somewhat surprised.
Angela remained composed and casually shrugged. "Just messing with you."
Nancy chuckled, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "I thought you were about to unleash your inner food critic again."
Angela blinked, her curiosity piqued. "Are you giving me a compliment or teasing me?"
Nancy's expression softened as she spoke earnestly, "Actually, I wanted to thank you."
Being well-informed about movie news, Angela knew why. She began to feel a bit embarrassed, as she had only brought forward the honors that Nancy deserved and, moreover, it was her own script initially. Being praised like this by the original author, even if the little girl had thick skin, she couldn't help but blush slightly.
She quickly said, "No, Nancy, if it weren't for you and Mr. Sawyer, this script would have just remained a script. I'm glad you made it into a movie. I believe I did the right thing when I sent it to you."
Nancy smiled faintly. "If it weren't for you "The Parent Trap" would have lost much of its charm."
"That's not necessarily true. Without Julia and Meg, it would have lost much more," Angela humbly replied. She didn't want to say much on this topic and asked another question, "Did you receive the script for "Sleepless in Seattle"?"
Nancy appeared puzzled and questioned, "But why did you send it to me?"
Angela giggled mischievously. "Because I thought it would make things more interesting." She kept her mistake of Jennifer sending it out unintentionally to herself.
Nancy's curiosity persisted as she inquired about the two drawings inserted in the script. "And what about the two drawings? Are they meant to depict Mr. Tom Hanks?"
"Yes," Angela answered confidently. "Why? Do you think it's not suitable?"
Nancy was about to express her thoughts when Angela interrupted her, saying, "Nancy, if you trust me, go with Mr. Hanks. I believe he won't disappoint you." Nancy couldn't help but feel puzzled.
She didn't understand why Angela had such unwavering confidence in Tom Hanks, despite acknowledging that he was indeed a perfect fit for the role. Angela realized she had been overly enthusiastic and shrugged, admitting, "To be honest, when I was writing this script, I envisioned Meg and Mr. Hanks in the lead roles. However, if you feel it's not suitable, the final decision is yours to make."
While Nancy was contemplating, her husband, Mr. Charles, approached and whispered something in her ear. Nancy nodded and then smiled apologetically at Angela. "I'm sorry, Angie, I have to leave for something."
"Please, go ahead," Angela gestured politely.
Watching Nancy exchange greetings with her husband and three other men and women, Angela looked around. Her talkative Big Sister didn't come, and her Sweetheart Sister and her husband were engaged in conversation with someone else.
The reception remained uninteresting.
With a sigh, she strolled towards the window, seeking solace in the view outside. If circumstances prevented Tom Hanks and Meg, the beloved on-screen couple, from continuing their collaboration, Angela accepted it.
Not everything would follow the original path, and her actions had already set the butterfly effect in motion. However, a fleeting thought crossed her mind—what if she had sent the script to the original author and director, Nora Ephron? She quickly dismissed the idea.
After all, she had entrusted the script to Nancy, who was undoubtedly as capable as Nora. Dwelling on hypotheticals served no purpose.
In that instant, Angela's eyes locked onto a boy standing near the window. It was unusual to come across someone her own age at the party.
The boy, appearing to be around thirteen or fourteen years old, had his brown hair neatly parted to the right, partially obscuring the right side of his face. With one hand casually tucked in his pocket, he playfully toyed with a decorative ball resting on a small table beside the window. A mischievous smile graced his lips, a contrasting touch to his formal black suit.
As if sensing that he was being watched, the boy turned his head and looked at Angela. Then he froze as if he had seen something shocking.
His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but no sound came out. He just stared at her intently.
Despite Angela's past experiences of being observed, there was a distinct quality to the boy's gaze that set it apart. It caused her heart to flutter with a hint of excitement.
Sensing his silence, she cleared her throat softly and inquired, "Is there something on my face?"
"Oh, I'm sorry," the boy snapped out of his daze, his face blushing slightly with a mix of nervousness and embarrassment. But he swiftly composed himself, adjusting his collar and offering a slight bow.
"Hello, esteemed young lady, I am..."
"John Connor, the savior of mankind, I know," Angela interjected earnestly. The moment she laid eyes on him, she recognized him. After all, that movie was a classic, and it was quite surprising that Disney had managed to invite such prominent figures.
The boy scratched his head once more, his face flushing with embarrassment, before spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness. "Well, Miss, if you're counting on me to lead humanity in saving the Earth, you'll have to wait at least six more years."
"That's alright. If the producers give their approval, you can take charge of leading all of humanity starting tomorrow," Angela exclaimed with a cheerful tone, scanning the surroundings. "By the way, is Mr. T-800 also present?"
"Yes, he's here. However, Mr. T-1000 couldn't make it due to some circumstances. Nonetheless, their creators are in attendance," the boy raised an eyebrow.
"Are you referring to 'Skynet' being here?" Angela asked playfully.
"No, no, no," the boy shook his head vigorously, mimicking a drumroll, then a mischievous smile appeared on his face. "I'm talking about the old man with receding hair, a scruffy beard, and a fondness for colorful language."
"This is problematic," the little girl raised her finger, shaking it disapprovingly. "How can you make such statements about your stepfather?"
The boy blinked, a flicker of comprehension crossing his face. Despite being taken aback by the girl's knowledge, he playfully replied, "My apologies, dear Miss. If we're being precise, Mr. T-800 would be considered my stepfather."
Angela tilted her head, pondering for a moment before responding, "Fair enough. So, could you kindly inform me of their whereabouts?"
At that moment, the boy cleared his throat politely and extended his hand toward the little girl. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance. My name is Edward Furlong. Might I inquire about your name, miss?"
"Angela Mason," Angela replied, reluctantly shaking his hand.
While their conversation had been intriguing, it didn't imply that she desired a friendship with him. After all, Edward Furlong, like many former child stars in Hollywood, had faced personal challenges as he grew older, involving substance abuse and neglect of his career. Over the years, his public image had been completely tarnished.
Angela was content with engaging in occasional conversations with someone like him, whether in this life or a previous one. However, she held reservations about individuals of his kind. Besides, she was still just a young girl.
"Angela Mason?" Edward seemed to have a moment of realization as he scratched his head before his eyes widened in surprise. "Oh my God! You're one of the two little girls from 'The Parent Trap'?!"
Taken aback, he took a step back, thoroughly studying Angela from head to toe, and then exclaimed, "You are even more stunning than you appeared in the movie. Your... your eyes are absolutely captivating."
Even though the little girl had been living in the United States her entire life, she still found their straightforwardness somewhat unfamiliar. She cleared her throat softly and inquired, "Could you please inform me of the whereabouts of the director and the others?"
Edward, now perceptive to Angela's lack of interest in further conversation, tactfully indicated the right direction and skillfully guided her through the crowd.
Angela effortlessly caught sight of the towering figure of the future governor through the gaps.
"Thank you, Edward," the little girl said with a smile, graciously acknowledging his help. Her lips curved slightly, adding to her already adorable appearance.
"It's my pleasure to be of assistance. Feel free to call me Edward," the boy responded, skillfully playing along.
"You can call me Angela as well," the little girl sighed. "If you don't mind, let's catch up later, alright?"
"It would be an honor" Edward adjusted his collar once more, despite its mismatch with his suit, exuding an air of gentlemanly demeanor. With his handsome appearance, he was confident that fans of 'ikemen' would adore him.
However, Angela completely disregarded his charm, offered him a smile, and walked away without glancing back.
