The restaurant where Jenny Jane worked was called the Hollywood Star, and as the name suggested, it was located very close to Hollywood. Though it was too low-end for big stars to dine there—the chances of that happening were practically zero—it had been around for a long time, served decent food, and did have a few celebrity photos hanging on its walls. Chen Zhen believed Jenny Jane had chosen to work here partly because proximity offered advantages.
As for her, staying here after her journey back in time was purely because the pay was decent. Though she'd encountered two self-proclaimed talent scouts trying to chat her up within a month, Chen Zhen couldn't care less. Having studied at film school and staying connected with many classmates after graduation, she knew all too well that nearly every story of being "discovered on the street by a talent scout" was pure hype.
Perhaps back when the film industry was nascent and people hadn't yet grasped the immense benefits of stardom, production companies did send scouts into neighborhoods to uncover talented young men and women. But in 2001? Even among AV actresses, competition was fierce. At the very least, the film industry no longer needed scouts. Record labels, however, still had some subsidiaries scouting for new talent. Of course, the advertising and modeling industries maintained the traditional "talent scout" system. But legitimate scouts always leave company contact numbers and hand out business cards. The so-called scout who hit on her in the restaurant? Frankly, he was just trying to get laid. Dig deeper, and he might have been after her money too.
Though this scam is as old as the 1920s—as seen in the upcoming film Chicago, where the protagonist Roxie is unsuspectingly seduced by a salesman posing as a producer's relative—they persist to this day. In Los Angeles, countless self-important yet hopeful men and women, like Jenny Jane, work in restaurants dreaming of stardom while waiting for their big break. In fact, another star waitress at the Hollywood Star restaurant shares her ambition to break into show business. Her approach, however, is more pragmatic: she aims to enter the advertising world first, starting as a commercial model before pursuing roles in television dramas.
It's a sound strategy, but utterly meaningless to Chen Zhen. The reason is simple—she doesn't have that much time.
She had traveled back in time from 2014 to 2001, leaving her a maximum of 14 years. After that, her greatest advantage would vanish—her knowledge of which films would become hits and which would flop. To avoid squandering this foresight, she couldn't afford to start with television before transitioning to the big screen. After all, there were almost no precedents of actresses who rose to prominence in Hollywood after starting in TV dramas. A successful American TV series like Friends often had a production cycle of seven or eight years, and it would cement the actors' image in the minds of the audience, which was extremely disadvantageous for the actors themselves. Not to mention how difficult it was to transition from the TV drama circle to the film circle.
Of course, no one has ever conquered Hollywood by being an advertising model, fashion model, adult film actress, reality TV star, singer, or the like.
The only path to Hollywood supremacy is through film. She must start with movies to have even a faint hope of accomplishing 70% to 80% of this mission within 14 years. As for reaching the pinnacle... Chen Zhen hadn't even contemplated that. She didn't even know how to quantify such a goal.
Even this immediate short-term goal of "acting in movies" was already more than enough to keep her busy.
Jenny Jane served several customers, earning generous tips with her sweet smile. Seeing that most patrons in her section were eating, she temporarily moved toward the storage cabinets. Leaning against them to rest her aching legs, she mechanically began analyzing her next steps.
To become an actress, she needed an agent. Agents controlled audition channels, knew about all kinds of casting calls, could submit her applications, and connect her with performance opportunities. If an agent took a real interest in her, willing to go out of their way to recommend her, she might even get special consideration during auditions... The problem was that the more capable the agent, the more selective they were about clients. At her current level, the best she could hope for was an agent who might land her a supporting role in a TV drama—and that would require extraordinary luck and the agent's genuine belief in her potential. Without that backing, she'd likely be steered toward modeling gigs or starting out as an extra in TV shows.
It's not that Chen Zhen was overly picky. In the entertainment industry, your first project is crucial. Even if it's an indie film destined never to be released, as long as it's a film role, your chances of landing another film gig increase significantly. After a few such projects, you can start auditioning for supporting roles in low-budget productions, then move up to lead roles in smaller films or supporting roles in bigger ones, eventually reaching the point of starring in major blockbusters. —Unless you're exceptionally lucky and meet a mentor who lets you skip several steps, most Hollywood A-listers have climbed the ladder this way, step by step.
And here we come full circle: to land movie auditions, you need a better agent, but better agents demand higher-caliber clients. Her current credentials are simply insufficient to attract attention. Even if she wanted to showcase her acting skills with a golden ticket, she wouldn't get the chance.
It's like the actors' guild paradox—the guild offers numerous benefits, such as insurance, minimum wage negotiations, performance opportunities, and agent referrals. To join the guild, you need a high-paying acting contract, but without guild membership, securing such lucrative contracts is extremely difficult.
For outsiders without relevant connections, the entertainment industry is a closed circle. Breaking into it is extremely difficult.
Of course, this makes perfect sense. If it were easy, the industry would be overcrowded. The higher the potential rewards, the steeper the barriers—especially at the pinnacle of entertainment like film. If Jenny Jian were willing to model instead, it would be far simpler: shoot a few photos, send out resumes worldwide, and magazines would inevitably come calling.
The restaurant hit a small lunch rush at noon. Jenny Jane carried trays, wearing a professional smile as she collected a round of tips. Between serving dishes and settling bills, she pondered her path forward. Her golden touch only enhanced her acting skills, and even now, it didn't seem to have instantly transformed her into a prodigy. Entering the entertainment industry? Sorry, she couldn't feel confident about it.
If it really didn't work out, she wouldn't go back... She could start as a model and transition into TV dramas. Even with her golden touch, she could scrape by. As for her son, though he was her motivation to return, objectively speaking, her ex-husband doted on the little treasure. With his grandparents around, he wouldn't be lacking in either money or affection.
Of course, this is only the absolute last resort—a self-comforting thought when all else fails. If possible, Chen Zhen still wants to reach the top as quickly as possible and return home. But right now, she doesn't have a better way to break through the deadlock. She can only start by getting her body into camera-ready shape and wait for the right opportunity.
If that didn't work, she could start at the community theater. Though competition in stage plays was fierce, the pay was relatively low and the barriers to entry weren't too high. She could begin by landing small roles at the community theater, then seek supporting parts at larger theaters. She didn't necessarily need a leading role—the exposure from a supporting role would be enough to help her make some connections...
After the lunch rush ended, Jenny Jane finally got her own break, though it wouldn't be long since customers would keep coming in for coffee and pastries throughout the afternoon. She could rest behind the bar, but would occasionally need to step out to serve patrons.
For lunch, she stuck with her chicken salad, still steering clear of vinaigrette and salad dressings. Many women trying to lose weight mistakenly believe eating salad equates to dieting, unaware that the calories in vinaigrette and dressings often rival those in a large piece of red meat. Having resolved to shed pounds, Jenny Jane refused to let her sacrifices go to waste.
Not only that, she was now consciously controlling her taste preferences, cutting out all sugary drinks. In the U.S., corn syrup is so cheap that beverages are loaded with sugar. Plus, these drinks contain sodium, making it easy to accidentally exceed daily salt intake limits. Thus, frequent consumers of sugary drinks are highly prone to health imbalances. In the U.S., many low-income individuals living in "food deserts"—driven by ignorance and bargain-hunting mentality—purchase sugary drinks cheaper than water in bulk. This leads to obesity so severe it hinders mobility, often accompanied by high blood pressure, high blood sugar, and high cholesterol.
Of course, the middle class understands the downsides of sugary drinks. Yet years of ingrained eating habits and body composition make weight loss incredibly difficult for them. In this food environment, maintaining a healthy figure requires a lifestyle akin to that of an ascetic.
At least Johnny always shook his head at Jenny Jane's diet plans. "Such extreme weight loss methods will make you faint, Jen. What's gotten into you? You used to come for a slice of my devil's food cake every single day, saying it was your reason for living. Now you won't touch cake, let alone a hamburger."
On her first day at work after arriving, she did indeed eat a slice of Devil's Food Cake—Hollywood Star's most popular dessert. But Chen Zhen couldn't finish even half of it. Due to white people's less sensitive sweet taste buds, desserts at Hollywood Star—indeed, across all of America—were at least twice as sweet as those in China. Chen Zhen must have brought her taste preferences with her. Before finishing half the cake, she felt so sick she nearly threw up.
As for burgers, the mustard and mayonnaise inside were equally calorie-laden, and nearly all sauces suffered from extremely excessive salt and sugar content. A single spoonful of supermarket pasta sauce contained more sugar than two Oreo cookies. Jenny Jane smiled. "I might have an audition, John, so I'm dieting." Johnny sighed and patted Jenny's shoulder. "I don't know whether to hope you succeed or fail."
He wasn't surprised by Jenny Jane's Hollywood ambitions—it was practically commonplace in Los Angeles, especially in neighborhoods near the studios.
Since Jenny's body had inherited Chen Zhen's refined palate, she'd adapted fairly well to lighter fare. As for that almost constant hunger, the faint ache in her stomach... ...she had long grown accustomed to it. Jenny savored every bite of her salad until it was completely gone. Spotting a customer entering through the serving window, she smoothed her skirt, stood up, and said to her colleague, "Kevin, I'll take this guest."
Kevin, her male waiter partner, hadn't finished his meal yet. He merely gave Jenny a grateful glance for her attentiveness.
Jenny Jane paid it no mind. She picked up the menu, adjusted her smile in the mirrored pillar, and walked to the window. "Hi, good afternoon."
"Good afternoon." Her customer looked up and returned her smile. He seemed in a good mood.
"The usual?" Jenny Jane asked.
This was his seventh consecutive afternoon visiting for coffee. Jenny Jane had memorized his order—a must-have skill for servers aiming to boost tips.
"The usual," the customer replied.
When Jenny brought over a mocha—unsweetened, double-shot, topped with whipped cream and generously dusted with cinnamon—she remarked, "Lovely weather today. You seem to be in a good mood too."
"I've had a pleasant day. How about you?" The customer's eyes sparkled with cheer.
Making small talk was another skill for earning tips, but today Jenny Jane wasn't chatting for that reason. She shrugged. "I have an audition in a couple of days. I've been a bit nervous lately, but everything else is fine."
The male customer paused, then nodded with sudden understanding. "Came to L.A. chasing a dream, huh?"
"So far, my dream hasn't been going smoothly," Jenny pouted, gesturing at her uniform before flashing him a smile. "But anyway—"
"My name's Dave," the man said.
"Okay, anyway, Dave, have a great day." Jenny winked at him and smiled again. "If you need anything, just call me."
She lifted her tray and glided away, discreetly observing Dave through the restaurant's ubiquitous mirrored columns.
He was staring intently at her retreating back.
Good sign, Jenny thought. Best stick to day shifts for the next week.