Part 40:Zoe’s just cashing in on Song’s fame
With a break in the filming schedule, Lan quickly arranged two livestream brand endorsement events for Zoe. Both were reputable brands, avoiding any shady ones, and the pay was high, capitalizing on Zoe's current popularity.
During one of the livestreams, Zoe could see the real-time comments. Many viewers were repeatedly spamming "Zoe's just cashing in on Song's fame—she's shameless!" The messages were identical, looking suspiciously like they were from bots.
Zoe ignored them outwardly, but inside, they bothered her. Everyone wants to be seen as flawless and untouchable, but who can honestly claim to have a spotless path? She comforted herself, thinking she hadn't done anything wrong, and Song didn't mind either. But deep down, the comments still stung. Convincing others is one thing; convincing yourself is another.
She thought how sometimes she envied people with walls of steel for skin—those who could make waves without caring about the inconvenience they caused others. She genuinely wished she could be a bit more like that.
After the livestream, Lan handed Zoe a water bottle and whispered, "You didn't seem very energetic just now. Are you tired?"
Zoe was surprised Lan had noticed. She laughed softly and shook her head. "Livestreams are draining. I don't know how those pro hosts do it, staying upbeat for hours on end."
"They're professionals," Lan replied with a shrug.
It was already 10 p.m. when Zoe finally got in the car to head home.
"I'll pick you up at 8 a.m. tomorrow," Lan reminded her as they reached her building.
"What?" Zoe looked confused.
"Did you forget?" Lan said, "We're meeting with Liu Pinran from Yuehai Net in the morning. They're launching a new short-drama series, and we're hoping to land one of the projects."
Zoe recalled the meeting. Lan had been actively searching for the right film or drama project for her, and Yuehai Net was one of the many platforms they'd reached out to. With the rise of web dramas, streaming platforms like Yuehai Net had become highly sought after, slowly eating away at traditional TV's market.
For someone like Zoe—who had buzz but little experience and no significant work—landing a lead in a web drama was about as good as it got. Unless a miracle happened and some renowned director chose her for a film role. Films, surprisingly, often gave newcomers a chance to play main roles, unlike the more conservative casting in traditional TV dramas.
"Why are we meeting in the morning? Can't I sleep in a bit?" Zoe sighed.
"Liu's flying to Beijing at noon, so it's our only chance," Lan said. "Besides, he's interested in you."
"Alright, fine," Zoe replied. "This won't be for a period drama, right?"
"Short dramas are rarely period pieces. They're too costly, and it's hard to make a profit. Usually, they're modern, suspense, or comedy," Lan replied. "What genre do you want to try?"
"I'd like to try them all."
Without formal training, Zoe's acting experience was limited to small roles. They hadn't been high-profile parts, but the process of acting intrigued her. There had been moments when she'd fully embodied her character, experiencing their joys and sorrows, and that feeling was fascinating.
"Honestly, you should get some training with a coach," Lan suggested.