CHAPTER 150 NOT A GOOD FIT

Chapter 150 Not A Good Fit

Entering the office, Nathan sat down directly on the crinkled sofa opposite the desk.

Sitting behind his desk, Vicente shot him a look and didn't speak.

His fingers were working on whatever had the keyboard clicking and tapping all over the place. Looked

like he was typing something up.

Nathan didn't disturb him. He sat there, legs crossed, lit a cigarette and waited.

After half an hour or so, Vicente stopped, stood, and poured himself a glass of water.

"What are you here for? Out with it!"

The blunt tone sent Nathan reeling, who snapped, "What, I can't just stop by and see you?"

Vicente chuckled. "You wouldn't be here for any reason but business."

Nathan had no words. "..."

They were college classmates and had been friends from that time.

Both talented souls, they'd found things to appreciate about each other as they interacted.

It was just that, compared to Vicente, Nathan was more flexible in his dealings, so he'd made good

after his debut. A few of his works had later become blockbusters, and now he was a hotshot director.

Vicente was different. He'd had his chance early on, but his temper had got him in trouble with

someone big, and he ended up ostracized.

All these years, even with Nathan helping him, he'd never found a good chance.

Nathan knew what his friend was like, so he wasn't really angry.

He tossed the documents in his hands onto the desk, muttering, "There are some advertisements from

the investors. Take a look."

Vicente shot it a look and didn't even flip through it. He just grunted without following up.

Seeing that, Nathan found himself thoroughly annoyed.

"What the hell do you want from me, Langes? I set this up for you personally and you're here looking

like you're above this business! There is an investor, so can you rein it in with the attitude? Do you

know how hard it is to gather investors for this script of yours?"

Vicente didn't get mad at the scolding.

He picked up the paperwork and leafed through it casually.

Then he tossed it to the side like he was done with his chores.

"I got it. I'll do it."

Nathan was speechless. "..."

He rolled his eyes. "Fine, I can't change your personality. I'm not asking for much. We can't go with

Victoria for the female lead this time. But every other normal person is staying away and the people

who're coming in are all weirdos. I'm giving you a choice here. Keep on waiting or pick Jessica

Dawson. Make it yourself!"

Vicente stirred, his lazy eyelids twitching. Then, very determinedly, he said.

"I'll keep waiting!"

Nathan wanted to pick up the ashtray and throw it at him!

"Wait? You can afford to wait? What if the investors leave? Who're you going to get to invest in you

again?"

Vicente didn't reply.

Nathan's brain was starting to hurt.

He was his friend, but he had to baby this man like a father!

Why did he even bother?

Finally, he sighed and kept trying. "The business is cruel, Vicente. It took you so much trouble to refine

the script. You can't be content watching it waste away in your hands, right? With a subject like this, it

might be fine for these couple of years, but another couple years later, no one's going to pay attention

to it. What then? Think about your dreams; are you willing to stay cooped up here forever? Is making a

bit of concession really so difficult?"

Hearing his words, Vicente's rock-carved mask of a face finally twitched a bit.

He lifted his head and gazed straight at Nathan, his razor sharp lips finally parting under his messy

mustache after a long while.

"I can switch out the actress, but I don't want Jessica Dawson."

Nathan flung out his hands. "Why?"

"She's not a good fit."

"Then who is?"

"Dunno."

"You-"

Nathan almost sprang up from the sofa. Rubbing his temples, he shook his head.

"Fine, whatever, You want to keep doing this, then keep doing it. Let's see what you're going to do

when the investors all leave!"

With that, he took his clothes and made to leave.

But before he took one step out the door, Vicente's stubborn voice rang out from behind him.

"Lend me your computer."

Nathan spun around and yelled in a rage, "No! Don't you have one? Why do you have to use mine?"

"Mine's broken."

He turned the monitor around to face him.

The ancient display showed a black screen with a long line of code.

Nathan realized that the tapping wasn't him typing words, but code.

He was so pissed he couldn't form coherent sentences.

He pointed at Vicente, fed up.

"What do you want me to say? If you'd only budge a little bit, do you think you'd still be stuck here

without a single work to your name? If you'd just change that temperament of yours, do you think you'd

be troubled to buy something like a computer? You... miserable old coot!"

Vicente smiled and didn't take his words seriously.

He stretched and said mildly, "Have someone bring the computer over. I need it before four o'clock."

Then he just got up and left.

Nathan felt like snapping him in half and throwing him out the window!

But at four in the afternoon, a brand new laptop was still delivered on time to Vicente's office.

Over the phone, Nathan sent him a vicious text. "I had someone build this specifically for me, Langes!

It's expensive! So be goddamned careful when you use it! If you break it or delete something by

accident, I'm going to burn those orchids of yours in their pots!"

Vicente was still smiling. He didn't bother replying, simply taking up the computer and starting his work.

First, he moved a video from the hard drive to his new computer. He clicked on one of the files absent-

mindedly. There was a video in there.

It would take time for the files to load. There was nothing to do while waiting, so he clicked on it.

It was a stage performance.

Looking at the scene and the setup, this should be an audition.

In the picture, a woman in black armor and a red feathered helm stood there, hefting a spear. Her brow

was fierce without arching, and there was experienced determination in her eyes. Without making a Nôvel/Dr(a)ma.Org - Content owner.

single motion, she emanated power and authority.

On the stage, a woman in courtly dress sobbed, voice trembling, "You're here, after all!"

The armored lady lifted her chin, imperious gaze sweeping the land. She slammed the butt of her spear

against the ground.

"Yes, I am here!"