Chapter 112: The Savage in the Trap

Despite protests from the Rainbow Alliance, the 68th Oscar Awards Ceremony took place as scheduled on March 25 at the Los Angeles Music Center Chandler Hall. Experience over the past decade showed that whenever a blockbuster film earned multiple nominations, the ceremony's attendance and viewership would skyrocket. As this year's biggest favorite, Saving Private Ryan clearly drove up interest in the Oscars.

Just past noon, Sarah entered the press area with her media invitation. As a reporter for the Los Angeles Times entertainment desk, she had a prime spot. Although the red carpet wouldn't start for a while, the frantically screaming fans across the way made for good material.

"Bill!"

As the press area filled up, Sarah instructed her cameraman, "Once the red carpet starts, you have to shoot exactly where I tell you!"

"Hey, Sarah," Bill grumbled as he set up his camera. "I'm not a rookie."

"Too many people try to crash the red carpet every year!" Sarah wasn't taking any chances. "We have to focus on the main attractions."

Nobody knew exactly when it started, but actresses who couldn't get invitations yet craved the limelight would find their way onto the red carpet—latching onto stars, exploiting sponsorships, or leaning on agencies and media. While other actresses took their time walking this short stretch of red carpet, these women—who had no nominated works, no invitations from the organizers, and wouldn't get a second of screen time from the broadcasters—were practically inching along. They would drag out the walk for a whole half hour if they could.

A thick skin was a basic requirement for surviving in the entertainment industry, but these women's skin was absolutely thicker than the bright red carpet itself.

For a prominent entertainment reporter like her and the Los Angeles Times, these people had absolutely no value. Using film on them was a complete waste.

Male stars in formal wear walked down the red carpet at a mostly normal pace; gorgeously dressed female stars stepped onto the red carpet at a snail's pace, dawdling for as long as possible.

Regardless of whether it was the former or the latter, they all burned through countless rolls of film.

A black limousine stopped in front of the red carpet. The door opened, and a tall man in a dark tuxedo stepped out.

"It's Duke Rosenberg!"

Abandoning the actresses still dawdling on the red carpet, dozens of camera lenses swiveled toward the start of the line.

"The Explosion Maniac, the Two-Billion-Dollar Director is here!"

The cameramen were just as excited as if they had seen top-tier superstars like Tom Cruise or Tom Hanks. He had been the focus of public attention for months, even though he had never stepped in front of a camera to say a word.

"He has a date?"

Seeing the young director turn and reach his hand into the vehicle, Bill was somewhat puzzled. Although the man was a notorious Hollywood playboy, he rarely appeared in public with a woman.

When Duke Rosenberg turned and led a woman out of the car, Bill could feel countless camera flashes erupting around him. He fired his shutter continuously, capturing the two figures.

"Who is she?"

Many people voiced the same question.

The woman possessed flowing, jet-black hair and misty yet bright amber eyes. She carried a naturally unique aura. When she stepped quietly out of the car, her exquisite features made her look like a classical lady, but when she smiled at her companion, she radiated a wild charm.

Coupled with her tall figure tightly wrapped in a plunging black evening gown, she was practically the definition of beauty.

Where did such a woman come from? If she had ever played a major role on the big screen, she definitely would have left an impression.

"Do you know her?"

Bill asked Sarah beside him, "You've done a few exclusive interviews with Duke Rosenberg, and you're in touch with his PR. Do you know who that woman is?"

"If I'm not mistaken..."

Noticing that everyone around her had pricked up their ears along with Bill, Sarah continued, "She's from Britain. Just look it up and you'll see. She's a somewhat famous actress named Catherine Zeta-Jones. I believe she's the lead actress for the Duke of Destruction's new film, Chicago."

"Could she be his girlfriend?"

A reporter beside them wearing a New York Post press badge asked. He was already thinking about how to write the gossip column regarding the Explosion Maniac's first public romance when he got back.

"Just watch them and see for yourselves."

Having fulfilled her little deal with Penny Kalis, Sarah said nothing more and urged Bill to keep taking pictures.

"It doesn't look like it for now."

Someone spoke in a disappointed tone as the two of them stepped onto the red carpet.

The Explosion Maniac and the British actress didn't interlock their fingers. They merely walked arm-in-arm in the most standard fashion, looking like nothing more than a director and his lead actress. The reporters formed their own guesses; as industry insiders, they knew this was likely a promotional strategy for the film.

However, the two of them smiled at each other from time to time, constantly exchanging silent glances. No matter how one looked at it, it didn't seem entirely innocent.

Shouldering the responsibility of promotional exposure, Duke didn't walk as quickly as he usually did at public events. He could feel Zeta-Jones's hand trembling slightly on his arm, and he could tell the British woman beside him was extremely excited.

If she hadn't been holding onto him, Duke figured she would have only made it a third of the distance by now.

"Is this the Oscar red carpet?"

Taking the opportunity to turn her head, Zeta-Jones whispered in his ear, "Even though it's my first time walking it, I feel like I've already fallen in love with it."

"Darling, it's my first time too." Duke shrugged and slightly quickened his pace. "We'd better hurry up a bit."

"It's your first time too?"

Although Zeta-Jones maintained her charming smile, her amber eyes were filled with confusion. "How could this be your first time?"

"This is my first time getting an individual award nomination."

Seeing someone holding up a Saving Private Ryan poster, Duke waved in their direction. The fans' reaction was rather lukewarm, so he simply continued speaking to the woman beside him. "Although Independence Day and The Rock also received Oscar nominations and gave me the right to walk the red carpet, I was busy with work back then. I didn't have the time."

'Busy with work? Didn't have the time?'

It was practically unbelievable. Others were desperate to show off at the Oscars, yet the man beside her wasn't very enthusiastic about it at all...

After walking a few more steps, Zeta-Jones suddenly understood. She had been in the Chicago crew for several months and had seen exactly how hard he worked. She had also heard others mention his belief that a director's most important asset was letting their work speak for itself.

Furthermore, he was so young and brilliant. He was bound to have plenty of opportunities to step onto the Oscar stage in the future.

Of course, he wasn't some stubborn, old-fashioned director who couldn't adapt, or else he wouldn't have accepted Kalis's suggestion to walk the red carpet with her.

Zeta-Jones's eyes shifted back to the man beside her. He was a director who was very hard to figure out.

Duke didn't know what the woman beside him was thinking. He simply led her into the press area to give interviews to the reporters.

As the director of tonight's biggest favorite, he was naturally the focus of media attention. Just as he stepped into the press area, a reporter from the broadcaster, ABC Television, ran over.

"Director Rosenberg, are you confident about tonight?"

These were all routine questions, and Duke gave a textbook answer. "I think we should be able to take home a few Golden Statuettes."

The female reporter then asked, "Will you set a record by winning Best Director?"

"I'll win it someday."

Though still a diplomatic response, Duke was telling the truth. "But not this year. I'm still very young, so there will always be chances in the future."

He knew very well that age was an unchangeable disadvantage. Plus, people like Tim Robbins from Dead Man Walking hadn't neglected their behind-the-scenes lobbying one bit.

"Could you tell us about the beautiful lady beside you?" The reporter looked at Zeta-Jones, who had been wearing a charming smile the entire time. "Is she your girlfriend?"

"That kind of misunderstanding isn't easy to explain."

Turning his head, Duke shared a deep look with Zeta-Jones in front of the cameras before speaking. "This is Miss Catherine Zeta-Jones. Kate is an incredibly outstanding actress and the lead in my new film. As you can see, she's both beautiful and charming."

Hearing Duke's words, the reporter immediately turned to Zeta-Jones. "Miss Jones, could you talk about your collaboration with Duke?"

"Of course."

From the moment she arrived, Zeta-Jones had been waiting for just such an opportunity. "Last year, Director Rosenberg made a special trip to London to find me. He believed I was a perfect fit for the role of Velma. He's also always been a director I greatly admire, which led to our collaboration. Although we haven't started filming yet, he's given me a lot of inspiration and guidance while discussing the script and the character..."

She turned her head and looked affectionately at Duke before continuing. "This will be a turning point in my acting career, the most important performance of my life. Only by working with him can you realize how outstanding Duke truly is. His talent and dedication are deeply admirable, even mesmerizing..."

When it came to acting skills, Duke figured he wouldn't be able to match Zeta-Jones even if he practiced for another twenty years. Once the interview was over, he didn't linger outside. Arm-in-arm with the alluring actress, he walked straight into Chandler Hall. Following the staff's directions, they passed through the lobby and down a long corridor, entering the main theater hall through a specially reserved VIP entrance.

"I've been here before," Zeta-Jones murmured as she held Duke's arm and walked toward the front rows. "Why does it feel completely different now?"

"Because this is the Oscars."

Giving a casual reply, Duke glanced around to find where his crew was seated. Before he could spot any familiar faces, Nancy Josephson hurried up from behind.

"Over here." She led the way and told Duke, "You'll get used to it after a few more times."

'A few more times?'

Those words seemed to strike a chord in Zeta-Jones's heart. She loved occasions like this, loved the feeling of being the center of attention, and wanted to attend every single Oscar ceremony.

Turning her head, her eyes fell on Duke. Would he be her guarantee?

"Where's my mom?"

This was what Duke cared about most. "Did she get in?"

"Sofia is sitting with her up front." Nancy arrived at the front-row seats assigned to the Saving Private Ryan crew.