No news doesn't necessarily mean good news. In Hollywood auditions, it's often the case that you might never hear anything back, only to find out one day while reading "The Hollywood Reporter":
"Oh, that role went to someone else."
Brad shot James a glare, practically cursing him with his eyes.
James pouted, mumbling, "It's not like I had a say in this." But when he looked at Anson, he forced a smile to show encouragement, his gentle gaze nearly saying, "Hang in there, buddy."
A smile flickered in Anson's eyes. Surprisingly, he seemed the most at ease among them and was about to crack a joke to lighten the mood.
The words that were on the tip of Anson's tongue were cut off. He turned to meet Brad and James's gazes and switched his tone, teasing with a grin:
"James, what are we going to do? Looks like my Spider-Man suit just got delivered. Did you celebrate too soon?"
Anson's expression was so earnest that it seemed like he wasn't joking, making it hard for James to tell if he was serious. His brain short-circuited.
Instinctively, James turned to Brad, hoping for confirmation.
But Brad looked just as confused, clearly not understanding Anson's words.
"Haha," Anson finally broke into a laugh, having successfully fooled both of them with his casual remark. "James, you should've seen your face—your pupils practically shook."
Brad burst out laughing, but quickly ducked his head when he noticed James's murderous glare. Despite his effort, he couldn't stop his shoulders from shaking with laughter.
James looked to the sky in exasperation. "Anson, you're such a jerk. You're the biggest jerk." The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became—caught between anger and amusement. He couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from lifting, and his uncontrollable smile only made him more annoyed. Frustrated with himself, he let out a howl.
From afar, Anson's voice echoed through the hall, "Is this how you talk to your sugar daddy?"
"Hahaha." Brad laughed even louder.
While they were talking, Anson had already opened the door, the smile still lingering on his lips. But he was taken aback to see Edgar standing there in a suit. Seeing Edgar Cook at this time?
Anson's mind made the connection instantly, "Did Sony-Columbia send word?"
Edgar was adjusting his suit, looking a bit nervous—nervous and excited. He was caught off guard, "How did you know?"
Sony-Columbia might not contact actors directly, but agents definitely would dig for information. Regardless, this was a major project.
Anson pointed inside the room, "James Franco is my roommate. Wait, didn't I tell you that?" He then stepped aside to invite Edgar in. Whatever the news was, you don't leave a guest standing at the door—good manners dictate that.
But Edgar was so excited he couldn't control himself—
This is where Edgar's youth and inexperience showed. In a way, the "Spider-Man" project was even more crucial to him than to Anson because there were plenty of eyes within William Morris watching, waiting for him to fail.
Edgar thought he could keep his cool, but the words just tumbled out.
He couldn't wait even one second.
A bombshell, dropped without any warning.
The room fell silent.
Not only Anson and Edgar, but even James and Brad exchanged stunned looks, blinking in disbelief, their minds temporarily short-circuited, struggling to process the information.
Edgar himself was holding his breath, the tension from excitement and nervousness stretching him to the limit. Unable to contain himself, he blurted it all out.
"Peter Parker, it's yours."
"You've got the role of Peter Parker. The decision is final. Sony-Columbia has already sent over the first draft of the contract, though I haven't reviewed the finer details yet." Original content can be found at Nov3lFɪre.ɴet
"Things like the salary, the number of films, on-set conditions... there are a lot of things we still need to discuss with them."
"Of course, that is, if you officially want me as your agent. If not, then this job will be handed over to your current agent."
"Anyway, Sony-Columbia has confirmed—you've landed the role of Peter Parker."
Edgar's words tumbled out in a hurried, somewhat incoherent stream, his excitement evident.
After a pause, Edgar added another point.
"It was a unanimous decision."
"This was agreed upon by the director, the producers, Sony-Columbia, and Marvel—everyone, including Sam, Laura, Ian, and all the others."
"So, there's no debate. The role is yours, unless you choose to turn it down."
Surprising, isn't it? Unexpected?
The news that Anson had secured the role of Peter Parker was already shocking enough, but to learn that he had won over all the directors and producers?
A unanimous decision.
It all felt like a dream—
Anson was about to become the first Spider-Man!
After "Friends" and "The Princess Diaries," this would be the third project of his career, and he was skipping several steps, jumping straight into the lead role.
In one leap, he ascended three levels, achieving a crucial transformation in Hollywood's fame-driven arena.
And not just any project—this was a major, record-breaking, high-investment film that would catapult him directly into the Hollywood spotlight.
The air was still silent, the shock and impact too immense to feel real.
Edgar extended his right hand, smiling, "Congratulations! You did it."
The weight of gravity slowly pulled Anson's feet back to earth, the reality sinking in, hot and intense, pumping through his veins. Anson finally found his smile.
Looking at Edgar, Anson said, "We did it."
Without Edgar, it probably wouldn't have been so simple relying on just himself.
One sentence, but it was enough. Edgar tried his best to control himself, but he couldn't stop his smile from growing, and then he burst into laughter, unrestrained.
Anson turned to Brad and James, "Hey, guys, you're looking at the new Spider-Man. What do you think, are you ready?"
James's eyes widened, "Shut up!" He quickly covered his mouth with both hands.
Brad, however, didn't hesitate. He rushed forward and gave Anson a big hug.
Anson was startled. This was one of Chris's bad habits that Brad had picked up. He was about to dodge, but Brad caught him in a firm embrace.
"Anson! Anson, Anson, Anson…"
Brad was overjoyed, calling out Anson's name repeatedly, having completely lost the ability to form coherent sentences, just thrilled for his friend.
James finally snapped out of it, looking at Anson's beaming face with unfiltered disdain, waving his hands and resisting with his whole body.
"Damn it! This isn't how it was supposed to go! If you're Peter Parker, then what does that make all my boasting? How am I supposed to live with myself?"
"I've never felt so stupid."
"Jesus Christ, Mother Mary, Santa Claus, why would you do this to me? Wasn't I a good kid?"
James was left utterly dejected.