Chapter 93: Failure Doesn't Matter
Salma Hayek pulled up outside Dawnlight Films in Burbank.
Aaron pushed the car door open and stepped out before she could even turn off the engine.
"So… you work at Dawnlight Films?" she asked, glancing up at the sleek building with the studio's logo shining under the sun.
Aaron gave a casual nod. "Yeah. Well, since you played chauffeur today, I'll forgive your little stunt back there."
His Lotus was fine—just stuck in the grass earlier, nothing serious. Frankly, he couldn't be bothered to care.
Salma quickly got out of the car and hurried after him. "Wait! I'm… I'm an actress too. If there's ever an opportunity, maybe you could keep me in mind?"
She handed him a small business card, slightly bent at the corners from nervous fingers.
Aaron took it, his eyes briefly sweeping over her name before looking back at her. "Have you worked in Hollywood before?"
"Just small roles," she said honestly. "Mostly background parts. Extras."
"Your English is pretty good," Aaron noted, tilting his head. "You must've studied it formally."
"Yes," she said, smiling shyly. "Spanish is my first language, of course—but I went to boarding school in Louisiana for high school, then studied at the National University in Mexico City."
Aaron nodded thoughtfully. It made sense — California was practically next door to Mexico, and the entertainment industry here was starting to pay more attention to Latino audiences.
"You've got good potential," he said after a moment. "If I come across a role that suits you, I'll let you know."
Her eyes lit up instantly. "Thank you! Could I at least know your name?"
He smiled faintly. "Aaron Anderson."
And with that, he turned and walked into the studio without another word.
Salma stood there, watching him disappear through the glass doors.
She whispered the name softly to herself, as if engraving it into memory.
"Aaron Anderson...Dawnlight Films."
---
That evening, Aaron didn't go back to West Hollywood.
Instead, he drove to the Los Feliz neighborhood, where Jennifer Connelly lived.
Jennifer had just returned from a brief trip to New York and was getting ready to go back to school.
Aaron lounged on the living room sofa, propped up on one elbow as the TV droned on. The news was dominated by international headlines—
the Soviet Union crumbling from within, republics declaring independence one after another, East and West Germany finally reunified.
The Cold War world order was dissolving before his eyes.
Aaron exhaled, muttering under his breath, "Boring."
For him, politics held no interest. The only empire he cared about building was right here — in Hollywood.
Aaron shook his head as he watched the television flicker with footage of collapsing Soviet statues and crowds waving new flags.
The Soviet Union's disintegration meant only one thing — the Cold War was over.
From the kitchen came the soft sound of bare feet on tile.
"What are you watching?" Jennifer Connelly asked, coming up behind him.
"Oh, nothing important," Aaron replied, turning down the volume. "Just some European news."
He reached out, drawing her gently into his arms.
"Germany's reunified now," he murmured. "Economically stronger than ever. Even the West Berlin Film Festival's going to drop the 'West' soon — it'll just be the Berlin International Film Festival from now on."
Jennifer smiled faintly. "Europe's always been strong. Hollywood's foreign business is growing fast too. You planning to expand into Europe?"
"I'd like to," Aaron admitted. "But not yet. My focus still has to be the North American market — maybe add the U.K. and Australia, the English-speaking countries. Europe's complicated. Better to leave that to the local distributors for now."
Jennifer tilted her head in agreement. Then, without another word, she kissed him — softly at first, then deeper.
Her warmth, her laugh, her eyes — there was something dangerously intoxicating about her youth and confidence.
Moments later, Aaron had her in his arms again, carrying her toward the bedroom.
Hovering over her, he smirked. "No wonder men can't resist you."
She giggled, rolling him over instead. "Are we talking about Billy Campbell again?"
Aaron chuckled as she leaned down to silence him.
---
New Year's Eve.
At the Sunset Tower Hotel in West Hollywood, a lavish New Year's ball was in full swing — the very picture of Los Angeles excess.
Crystal lights glimmered overhead, champagne flowed freely, and the music was loud enough to drown out the world.
On the balcony, Aaron stood with Nicole Kidman in his arms, watching fireworks burst over the city skyline.
"America's about to lead the charge into Iraq," he said quietly. "War's coming, and yet… look at this. No one here seems to care."
Nicole's lips curled into a wry smile. "Didn't we invade Panama last year? Everyone's used to it by now."
Aaron laughed softly, saying nothing.
Nicole turned toward him, eyes sparkling. "Oh — my agent called earlier. Imagine Entertainment's partnering with Universal on a big Western romance. Ron Howard's directing. Tom Cruise is starring. Budget's around sixty million."
She took a breath, her tone rising with nervous excitement.
"I've got an audition for the female lead."
Aaron smiled knowingly. "That must be Far and Away. Ron Howard's solid. You should do it — especially if Cruise is involved."
With Cruise's box-office power, the film was guaranteed to hit big. Even Days of Thunder, despite its lukewarm reviews, had earned $80 million domestically and another $70 million overseas.
Nicole hesitated. "I don't know… I'm not confident. You know how it is — Tom Cruise is so much shorter than me."
During Days of Thunder, she hadn't even considered auditioning. But now, after starring in Wild at Heart and Ghost, she was in a different league — and a little more self-assured.
Maybe too self-assured.
Aaron grinned, brushing his fingers along her cheek. "You're gorgeous, sexy, and confident. Who knows? You might even catch Cruise's eye."
Nicole looped her arm around his. "I'm your woman. Why would I bother with someone else's husband?"
If he didn't know her better, Aaron might have believed that.
He smiled faintly. "You realize Cruise only works with big directors and established stars, right? He doesn't take risks with new talent."
It was true. Any director hoping to cast Tom Cruise needed major studio backing; even then, Cruise controlled the creative decisions. As for co-stars, he preferred seasoned professionals — not up-and-comers.
Edward Scissorhands had originally been written for him, but Cruise turned it down; he didn't understand Tim Burton's gothic style.
Now, every Hollywood producer saw him as the first choice for nearly any leading-man role.
Nicole sighed. "My agent said Cruise's focusing on commercial films now. I'm not thrilled about being eye candy, but a 'Tom Cruise eye candy' isn't exactly a bad position to be in."
Aaron chuckled. "Let me guess — Paula Wagner's the one who reached out?"
Nicole nodded. "Yeah. She mentioned you, actually. Maybe that's why I got the chance."
Aaron smiled knowingly. Paula Wagner, Tom Cruise's powerhouse agent, was well-connected — and clearly respected him enough to offer Nicole a door in.
Nicole leaned up and kissed him lightly. "I'll give it a shot. And if I fail… it doesn't matter."
Aaron looked down at her, a touch of warmth in his eyes.
"Right," he said softly. "Failing doesn't matter — not if you learn how to play the game."