Chapter 31 – Catherine's Intentions
"Jones, listen carefully," William said, his voice firm.
"You're playing someone who feels deep guilt toward the female lead—but in the end, still chooses to hide the truth for her own benefit.
I need you to fully become Claire. Completely.
If you can't do that, this film simply can't be made.
Do you understand what I'm saying?"
William's expression was severe.
Catherine was clearly rattled.
Flustered, she nodded quickly.
William could tell at a glance that most of his words had probably gone in one ear and out the other. She was still dazed, overwhelmed.
He sighed.
"Forget it. Take a thirty-minute break. Go study the script properly.
If you still can't get there, I'll have to consider replacing you."
The moment she heard that, Catherine panicked.
"No! Director—please don't! I can do it! I really can!
Just give me another chance! I'll figure it out—I promise!"
Without waiting for a response, she hurried back to the makeup trailer, grabbed the script, and began studying it intently.
Nicole walked over to William.
"Don't you think you're being a little too harsh on her?" she asked, glancing toward Catherine's retreating figure.
William looked up at Nicole, studying her.
"Why are you so concerned about her?" he asked calmly. "Got your eye on her?"
In Hollywood, such things weren't exactly unusual.
"You wish," Nicole rolled her eyes.
"Then why the special treatment?" William raised an eyebrow.
Nicole crossed her arms.
"Consider it a bit of kindness toward a fan. Anyone who knows who I am at this point must be a pretty devoted one."
William rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Catherine Zeta-Jones—Nicole Kidman's fan?
He couldn't recall hearing anything like that in his previous life.
The more he thought about it, the more he sensed something was off.
Nicole, meanwhile, remained completely unaware of what Catherine truly coveted, still viewing her as nothing more than an earnest admirer.
---
Inside the makeup trailer, Catherine clutched the script tightly.
She read a few lines, closed it, leaned back, and replayed the character's emotions in her mind—over and over.
Her heart was racing.
She had finally managed to get close to someone like William. There was no way she would let this opportunity slip through her fingers.
"Damn it… why is this so hard?"
She cursed silently.
But after a brief moment of frustration, she steadied herself.
After all, she was destined to become a powerhouse actress.
Once she adjusted her mindset, Catherine plunged back into character analysis with renewed focus.
Thirty minutes passed in the blink of an eye.
When the break ended, Catherine returned to the set—eyes clearer, posture firmer.
She was ready to try again.
Nicole and Catherine sat close together on a long wooden bench.
Behind the camera, William watched the monitor in silence.
If this were just a still image—no acting, no dialogue—the composition was flawless.
The only missing piece was Catherine's performance.
"Action!"
At William's command, the camera rolled.
Frame by frame, the film captured their movements.
Nicole and Catherine began their scene.
Under pressure, Catherine's performance was noticeably better this time.
Seated behind the monitor, William observed closely and allowed himself a small sense of relief. At least this take wasn't a waste of film.
"Cut! Good. That's a take!"
The moment the words left William's mouth, Catherine let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. Her shoulders relaxed instantly.
During the scene, she'd been terrified that William would suddenly call "Cut" again—ending not just the take, but the fragile opportunity she'd clawed her way into through sheer nerve and timing.
After breaking through that first hurdle, something seemed to click.
The following shots still had a few NGs, but compared to her earlier stiffness, her performance improved dramatically.
At the very least, she no longer looked like a lifeless puppet on screen.
Some things were like that—once you crossed a certain threshold, everything began to flow naturally.
Before long, the morning shoot wrapped.
Catherine finally relaxed completely. Most of her scenes were finished; all that remained was a short phone-recording session, which wasn't urgent.
Still, despite it being only a half-day, it had felt like an eternity.
She sat down to rest, watching the crew pack up equipment, when a voice sounded behind her.
"Hey, Catherine. How did the morning go?"
She turned to see Jennifer, who had come by to visit the set.
"Hey, Jennifer." Catherine waved, then made an exhausted face.
"It was brutal. Honestly, I feel like I almost brushed past Hollywood this morning and nearly missed it."
She even put on a mock sobbing expression, leaving Jennifer momentarily stunned.
Just then, William walked over.
The instant Catherine spotted him, she straightened up and sat properly.
Before today, she'd known William was capable—but it hadn't inspired fear.
After this morning, though, that had changed.
His meticulous standards and cold seriousness on set were genuinely intimidating.
"Director!" she said quickly, respectfully.
Jennifer immediately followed suit, standing straighter and dipping her head slightly.
"Good morning, Director."
"Hello," William replied calmly.
"You both did well this morning. Catherine, I'm optimistic about you. Keep it up."
The praise made Catherine's heart leap.
She stood at once. "Thank you, Director. Thank you for giving me this opportunity."
Her humility was natural and disarming.
Watching her, William suddenly understood why she would eventually make it in Hollywood.
Talent, emotional intelligence, and restraint—people like that only needed the right opportunity. As long as they didn't sabotage themselves, success was inevitable.
"I've instructed the production's finance department to transfer your payment," William continued.
"Remember to check it when you get home. There's still a phone-recording segment later—we'll contact you about that."
"Yes, Director. Thank you," Catherine replied earnestly.
"Mm. I enjoyed working with you. I hope we'll have the chance to collaborate again."
William nodded and turned to leave.
"Director—wait."
Catherine suddenly called out.
He stopped and turned back. "Yes? Is there something else, Miss Jones?"
"Well…" she hesitated, then looked at him with hopeful eyes.
"If you're free sometime, I'd like to treat you to dinner—to thank you properly."
William raised an eyebrow slightly.
Inside, he was already weighing the question:
Was this simple gratitude…
or was she playing a deeper game?