hollywood system: art

Winning is something people always crave. That little glimpse of recognition is what everyone longs for—and though their hands were clean, all the winners took time to applaud their production teams. Even a young Winona couldn't hold her own against Brenda Blethyn, sparking a new wave of bitterness. Eddie Murphy's controversial win puzzled everyone—his surprised expression, like he hadn't expected it, was the final straw. It would've been better to give it to Nathan Lane or Antonio Banderas, but his resentment toward the public didn't help. On the other hand, Cuba Gooding Jr. shocked everyone by stealing the spotlight from Edward Norton with his performance as Rod Tidwell.

Juliette Binoche won for her role as Hana in The English Patient, balancing the weight of a film that, out of seven nominations, only took home three, losing Best Screenplay to The People vs. Larry Flynt. It was simply incredible for two reasons: first, Cuba was a heavy contender for Best Supporting Actor, and second, Juliette seemed destined to win—or perhaps it was a switch with Winona, who had launched a fierce campaign but would end up leaving out Fargo's powerhouse actress, who, in Billy's opinion, had delivered one of the most raw and enduring performances in recent years.

–It's good that Juliette won,– said Monica, gazing at the French woman, now a complete vision of beauty. Born in 1964, wearing a black dress, she seemed to be at her peak, at least in terms of looks. Time would tell if her acting would reach even greater heights.

–That's what bothers me. The company spent quite a bit, hoping that at least the two women would win. Juliette is counting on the Oscar, but what if, by some twist of fate, this award is just a consolation and the Oscar ends up going to Winona? We campaigned hard to avoid that. – Billy whispered to Monica. Seated at Billy's table were director Anthony Minghella and his wife Carolyn, along with Milos Forman, who was there for The People vs. Larry Flynt.

–Then it's good we're all adults and understand that you can't win every time. But I won't lie—it's brilliant to win an award like this. An Oscar… oh, how insidious it is to know there are things you simply can't have. But I believe you've got what it takes to win the Oscar. – Monica whispered, leaning in closer to speak more privately. Billy turned his head and saw Winona smoldering quietly beside Gwyneth, who, for some reason, had arrived with Barbra Streisand.

Each of them was an icon in the entertainment world. Billy winced—now came the long parade of people attending the post–Golden Globes parties.

–Don't make that face. It doesn't mean anything that your first two nominations were just that. You might still win at the Writers Guild or maybe the BAFTAs. – said Monica, to which Billy responded with a soft kiss on her lips. He already knew the potential consequences of the upcoming ceremonies couldn't be ignored—not in the next few months.

They announced the next winner—Best Original Song. A famous woman made the intro: Madonna, at a piano, with a cello—her golden ensemble making her the perfect, radiant ghost. The song was translated and interpreted in Spanish with emotional depth.

–I think she deserved the win. – Billy remarked.

–I heard Jim lured you to that role, but you turned it down because of the big boat movie you were filming in May, June, and July… Amazingly, she's winning now. – Monica commented. – Though Ethan says the movie is undeniably a work of art. You've stolen two love stories he wanted. You're shaping up to be the golden boy of romance. Entertainment needs high standards. –

–He's right. The big boat is going to shatter people's image of blockbusters. I think I've got roles, and I'm being considered for supporting ones—or I have to hustle and invest in my films to break in, while others might prefer someone else. They accept me reluctantly, but my acting is solid. – Billy replied. Monica nodded. Sometimes she shifted into this seductive woman, chased by every camera, and when her lips parted and she gave a collective sigh.

–The cameras can't take their eyes off you. –

The next celebrations began. The TV series categories were heating—a battle already set in motion. He hoped to see returns on his series investments: ER, Friends, Seinfeld, and 3rd Rock from the Sun—all co-financed. The executive producer role gave him leverage, the capital to acquire series in the future.

–I love that show. Ever since you told me you were the executive producer, I haven't missed an episode. And the ratings are strong. – Monica commented. That show had catapulted one of its actors, George Clooney, into fame, though he had just lost completely to The X-Files, which was on a hot streak. It would dominate for at least another two years, and the following year it would once again be nominated for Best Drama Series, only to lose to some other emerging show.

Time flew like lightning—it was already 10 p.m., and his eyes felt heavy. There'd be a networking party soon. People could be shameless, but everyone gravitated to their corners. At the Hilton itself, Madonna was throwing a party alongside Winona and other celebs, keeping tabs on the exclusive private party.

…

The party was everything he expected—from the champagne to the DJ spinning the latest hits, setting the perfect mood. Nothing too surprising, as people drifted in and out, unsure if they were embracing or rejecting the atmosphere, perhaps stirred by the music.

Monica danced in front of him like a siren, casting longing glances. The artist guild was gathered in one spot, trying to stay organized. The 70s–themed party aimed to dress up the clueless wanderers. The Willis couple was there—Madonna's ex-husband, nearby with her new boyfriend, Antonio Banderas. Gwyneth was hand-in-hand with Leonardo DiCaprio, in some strange not–a–couple/couple dynamic. Then came Winona and Monica… and of course, Billy.

–We'll be serving Mexican food and margaritas to set the mood. – said the event manager. The party's setup was intriguing—a wide hallway, with red-clothed tables decorated with little figures off to the side.

–It was Antonio who suggested the food. – whispered someone nearby, and Billy caught it.

He couldn't help but wonder how incredible the hotel was—how much would it cost to buy a place like this? A market gaining value in regions like the Caribbean, Central America, and Latin America.

–Come eat tacos. – Monica said in Spanish.

–I want tacos. –

The margaritas flowed like foam, and the success bubbled to the surface.

–It would be interesting to take a trip to Spain, but time went by too fast. And now, in the coming months, you'll be working so much you'll feel like a salaryman struggling to make ends meet. – said Monica.

–I'll finish Fight Club, and then we'll go to Spain. However, I'm also thinking of Montana. Want to go and have a proper cold-weather vacation in March? Somewhere rural—don't you think it'd be good to step away from city life? Feel the chill, breathe the air that chases us, not that suffocating heat. The hills, some horseback riding… – Billy replied. There was something in Monica that always craved peace—a break from the monotonous grind that seemed to smother her. Parisian life was indifferent to the party, but she always sought companionship.

Her eyes lit up.

–I think it would be wonderful. – Monica answered.

–Then we'll head to Australia in March, and in August, five days in Spain. I'll probably find another great film I'll want to do. But sneaking off to Hawaii? No problem. As long as you and I get to dance. – said Billy. He'd long felt that squeezing every bit out of San Jose and its surroundings would be a great idea.

–It's a deal. I'll make the schedules. We can travel all across the U.S.—at least to all the famous places people always talk about. And I'd love to go to Texas, try that juicy, melt–in–your–mouth meat. – said Monica.

–Let's go, sweetheart. We'll take Grandma and Grandpa too. – Billy replied, kissing her lips like two perfect lovers. Unspoiled air, tomato soup, and cheesy quesadillas.

–Spicy. Give it more spice. – Billy said.

–My tongue! – She stuck it out, completely burned by the heat.

Billy laughed and wiped her chin.

–You're stuffing me so I won't feel like dancing, is that it? You're sweet–talking me so I can't resist. – Monica said, trying not to admit the food was delicious.

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