Soon, the proposal to "strike" received support from other mbers in the office.
After all, this was also the most effective ans for writers to resist the producers’ association.
On one hand, they were in contact with the East Coast, New York’s Screenwriters Association, striving to reach a consensus, so that TV and film writers could strike together.
On the other hand, they sent people to communicate with the Directors Association and Actors Association, hoping to get wider support.
anwhile, at New York Port.
Wang Jian, holding a glass of wine, leaned against the ship’s railing, casually chatting with the young man in front of him.
"I don’t like being called ’George’; my real na is ’Jeff,’" he said with a shrug to Wang Jian.
"Then why does everyone call you George?"
"Since my grandfather, we’ve all been called George. My father, my brother, and even my brother’s children in the future, we are all Georges," Jeff shrugged.
Wang Jian admitted that he found it difficult to understand the Western practice of naming and family nicknas.
"Let introduce myself properly, I’m Jeff Bush," the young man shook hands with Wang Jian, "Currently, I’m working in the office of Senator Bob Thor."
"Bush?" Wang Jian repeated the surna with a bit of confusion, "The Bush of the ’George family’?"
"If you’re talking about the forr President and current Governor of Texas, then they are my father and brother, respectively," Jeff shrugged.
Talk about being the son of a top official.
The people on this yacht were truly either rich or noble.
Wang Jian contemplated what it would feel like if he strapped a bomb to himself and blew up everyone on board.
He looked at the still sowhat youthful Jeff and, after hesitating for a while, finally asked, "So, what else do I need to do about the charity fund’s tax exemption eligibility?"
"Just emphasize the Republican Party’s help a bit more in the speech about establishing the charity fund," Jeff smiled, "to prove that Republicans have no prejudice against Internet tycoons."
"As for the rest, let’s talk about it later," he gazed straight out at the sea, "Right now, we’re just trusting Goldman Sachs’ judgnt."
At that mont, Lehman walked over.
He greeted Wang Jian with a smile and then clinked glasses with Jeff Bush, "Jeff, long ti no see."
Well then...
These people were all the so-called next wave.
After the three casually chatted for a few monts, Jeff took his leave.
Lehman watched Jeff’s retreating figure and said to Wang Jian, "Don’t underestimate that guy. His brother has a high calling within the Republican Party."
"By the way," he continued, pulling out a list and handing it to Wang Jian, "have your subordinates fill in these nas on the charity fund’s declaration list."
After Wang Jian took the list, "Who are all these people?"
"Just so figures that need to be accommodated by the big shots. Don’t worry, it won’t affect your control over the fund."
Wang Jian nodded and put the list in his pocket, "Can I leave now?"
"Aren’t you going to dance?" Lehman asked, "There are many wealthy young ladies here."
Wang Jian glanced at Sarah, sitting awkwardly in a corner, and smiled as he shook his head.
As he left with Sarah, the party was in full swing.
Among them, an elderly white man nad Epstein was chummy with the real estate tycoon Wang Jian had t at the Plaza Hotel, chatting about sothing.
"How was the party?" Wang Jian asked Sarah as he drove.
"I didn’t like it very much," Sarah shook her head, "These people remind of the ’parents’ at a foster ho, a bit hypocritical."
"You’re mistaken," Wang Jian said, looking ahead, "They’re not just hypocritical, but also vicious."
"In a sense, they are the ones who lead this country."
Soon, the car arrived outside Sarah’s apartnt building.
"Won’t you co up for a cup of coffee?" Sarah opened the car door and extended an inviting look.
Hmm...
Tom should have already used the spare key Sarah gave him to put the purchased dresses into the apartnt, right?
"Alright," Wang Jian smiled and followed Sarah towards the apartnt.
At the sa ti, Wang Jian began to imagine the look of surprise on Sarah’s face.
When Sarah turned on the apartnt lights, what ca into view were hangers filled with blue dresses.
These dresses were from luxury brands like Hers, Louis Vuitton, and Chanel.
At that mont, Wang Jian walked up to her, "This is a Christmas gift that’s ten years late."
"Sister, rry Christmas."
"This..." Sarah looked at the dresses, then back at Wang Jian.
Then, her cheeks slowly puffed up, "Who told you to spend money so recklessly? Didn’t you just lecture about not overspending?"
This...
This wasn’t the reaction he had expected.
"It didn’t cost much," Wang Jian hastily picked up the bill Tom had left on the coffee table, "Just..."
"How much?" Sarah asked sharply, looking at Wang Jian.
"450,000 US dollars," Wang Jian lifted his head to look at Sarah.
Damn it, that was showing off too much – practically all of the manuscript fee from "Extre Heavenly Demon" gone!
Next, the two of them sat on the sofa, one after the other, staring blankly at the array of dresses in the room.
Of course, they were in no mood to do anything else.
anwhile, a writer nad Silvio Horta was anguishing over his work posted online.
His work was different from the mainstream stories on the website.
Not a tale of a protagonist traveling to another world, of swords and magic.
It was about a man who mistakenly entered the fashion world, stumbled around by luck, and ultimately found success.
Alright, he had intended to write about a female protagonist, but seeing that most of the website’s stories had male leads,
He hesitated and followed the trend by writing about a male protagonist.
But this work, into which he had poured his heart, not only had few readers, but its comnt section was also filled with insults.
"A man making his way in the fashion world? Is he that twisted? Toxic!"
"How is the psychological description of your male protagonist any different from a female’s?"
Silvio Horta had gone from expecting his work to be a sensation to hoping that so readers would co out of curiosity, giving him so manuscript fees.
But lately, with the broadcast of a TV series, a novel with a female protagonist on the website, "Prison Break," also soared in popularity.
This made him feel sowhat resentful.
Silvio kept switching between web pages, comparing "Prison Break" to his own work.
In the end, he had to admit that his work might have been better with a female protagonist.
But having been serialized for over two months now, wouldn’t deleting it and starting over an all his previous effort was wasted?
This was hard to accept for him, who was under financial strain.
What should he do?
His fingers tapped lightly on the keyboard.
All of a sudden, Silvio saw a piece of news.
"A rainbow flag protest erupted in Los Angeles, participants are calling for the governnt and the public to recognize and respect people with gender identity disorder."
Silvio Horta stared at this report for a good ten minutes.
Finally, he took a deep breath.
"One last try," he decided.
He deleted the original title of his work and wrote down "Ugly Betty: The Story of Betty in the Fashion World."
He also rewrote the synopsis: A man wakes up to find himself suddenly transford into an ugly woman, and that too, an ugly woman struggling in the fashion world.
Then, he submitted the revision request.
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