Chapter 455: Matchmaking

At the Hollywood Highland Center, under a canopy of twinkling lights, the Screen Actors Guild hosted a lavish celebration party. The atmosphere was electric, buzzing with the chatter and laughter of Hollywood's finest.

The air was perfumed with the rich aroma of gourmet delicacies and fine wines, creating an aura of exclusivity and glamour.

Martin and Nicholson, each cradling a glass of vintage wine, ascended to the balcony of the second floor. From this vantage point, they could survey the entire spectacle.

The space below was a kaleidoscope of glittering dresses and sharp tuxedos, the elite of Hollywood mingling in an elegant dance.

Nicholson leaned in, his voice a hushed whisper, "Look to your left, they're making their entrance."

Martin's gaze followed the direction, and his eyes landed on Ben Affleck and Jennifer Garner, gracefully navigating through the crowd. "There they are," Martin murmured, a hint of awe in his tone.

This was no ordinary party. It was a gathering of the Screen Actors Guild, an institution that stood as a pillar of support for actors in their times of need, both celebrated and struggling.

Nicholson's gaze swept the room, a sly grin playing on his lips. "Aren't you going to say hello? Garner's there too, in her radiant youth, and she is Ben's wife..."

Martin, uninterested in Nicholson's ramblings, shifted the topic. "Is James Franco here as well?"

Nicholson, relishing his role as the evening's unofficial orchestrator, nodded. "He's with Lawrence. Don't worry, Martin, I've got everything under control."

He gazed down at the party, a sense of pride swelling in his chest. Nicholson, a veteran of the screen, had seen more than his fair share of Hollywood's highs and lows.

His post-retirement pursuit of happiness found new vigor in evenings like these, reminiscent of wild nights on the Sunset Strip with legends like Marlon Brando and Warren Beatty.

Interrupting his reverie, Martin's phone vibrated. He glanced at the screen, answered with a brief, "The debt collector is here," and shrugged nonchalantly.

Soon, Jolie and Aniston approached, each planting a kiss on one of Martin's cheeks in a playful competition for his attention.

Nicholson, sensing his moment to exit, excused himself. "Duty calls, gentlemen," he said, giving Martin a knowing thumbs-up as he departed.

Aniston turned to Martin with a mischievous glint in her eye. "So, are we gearing up for another scene-stealer?"

Martin pointed an accusatory finger at the retreating Nicholson. "Blame him, not me."

Jolie, skeptical, quipped, "Really, Martin? Up to no good again?"

Martin, slipping an arm around each of their waists, assured them with a charming grin. "Fear not, the plans are all in your favor. It's time to stir the pot and give the media something to talk about."

Jolie, wise to the games of Hollywood, cautioned, "Remember, there are lines we shouldn't cross in this industry."

Aniston, ever the optimist, laughed off Jolie's concern. "Martin wouldn't lead us astray."

Their banter was cut short as Martin, sensing the need to defuse the tension, steered the conversation back to the safety of light-hearted jest. "Ladies, tonight's about enjoying the moment. Let's make the most of it."

Their laughter melded with the symphony of the party, a perfect blend of intrigue and indulgence. For in Hollywood, where the lights shine brightest, every moment is an opportunity for a new story to unfold.

In the opulent grandeur of the Hollywood Highland Center, beneath the glow of dazzling chandeliers and amidst the soft murmur of conversation, Martin gently advised his companions, "Let's take a moment to enjoy the show tonight. There's no rush."

...

Downstairs, amidst the constellation of stars, Jennifer Lawrence, her arm linked with Franco's, gazed around with wide-eyed wonder. "It's incredible, all these stars in one place," she breathed, a mix of awe and excitement in her voice.

Franco, accustomed to the glitz of Hollywood, offered his standard encouragement, "Keep learning and practicing diligently. With your talent and dedication, you could be among them someday."

Lawrence, her youthful face alight with ambition, replied earnestly, "With a mentor like you, I'm sure I can make it." Her sincerity was palpable, and Franco couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her potential.

"The mentor you speak of is none other than Jack Nicholson," Franco clarified with a hint of a smile.

"That's right, you've got a keen eye. I wasn't wrong about you," Franco complimented, his words laced with pride.

Suddenly, Lawrence's eyes sparkled with excitement. She covered her mouth to stifle a squeal, pointing ahead. "Ben Affleck! Look, it's Ben Affleck, my favorite actor!"

Franco, masking a twinge of envy with magnanimity, offered, "Let's go meet him."

Eager as a fan meeting her idol, Lawrence hurried alongside Franco.

Franco, although not closely acquainted with Affleck, greeted him with the familiarity of long-standing industry peers. "Hey, Ben."

Jennifer Garner was absent, leaving Affleck alone. He recognized Franco and greeted him warmly, "James, you're looking younger."

"Must be Jennifer's influence," Franco quipped, introducing Lawrence.

Lawrence, barely containing her excitement, gushed, "Ben, you were amazing in 'Pearl Harbor' and 'Hollywood Manor!'"

Affleck, ever the gracious celebrity, thanked her.

"Could I get your autograph?" Lawrence asked, producing a pen and notebook. "And maybe a photo together?"

Affleck obliged, smiling as he noticed the "Studio Four Acting School" stamp on her notebook, complete with Franco's signature as the headmaster.

He signed the notebook and posed for a photo with Lawrence, who beamed with joy throughout.

Returning the items to Lawrence, Affleck inquired, "James, when did you start an acting school?"

"After 'Spider-Man 3', I used the trilogy's popularity to launch Studio 4," Franco explained.

Lawrence chimed in, "I'm one of James' students." She looked at Franco with admiration, "So many wanted to join, but James can only teach so many."

Affleck, well-versed in the realities of Hollywood, understood the allure such schools held for aspiring actors.

Franco shrugged modestly, "I started from the bottom and always wanted to help others like me, though my ability to do so is limited."

To Affleck, Franco's words hinted at the harsh truth of Hollywood's underbelly, countless hopefuls vying for stardom, often at great cost.

He recalled the lucrative nature of acting schools, with their high fees and short courses, always in high demand.

In the background, the party continued, a swirling mix of dreams and ambition, where every conversation held the potential for new opportunities or the reinforcement of established ones.

Under the resplendent lights of the Hollywood Highland Center, amidst the glamour and the subtle hum of networking, the conversation between Ben and Franco took a turn towards their shared interest in acting education.

Ben, leaning against the ornate railing, asked in a seemingly casual tone, "Your acting school seems to be doing quite well, James."

Franco, with a hint of pride, replied, "Yes, it's been a fulfilling journey, helping so many aspiring actors."

Ben, intrigued, shared his own experience. "I've been teaching part-time at the Adler School myself. Like you, I find joy in nurturing new talent. Perhaps we could discuss our experiences in more detail?"

Franco, sensing an opportunity for a meaningful exchange, suggested, "Let's find a quieter spot upstairs in the lounge."

Turning to Lawrence, Franco excused himself, "Jennifer, Ben and I need to discuss something. Feel free to enjoy the party."

Lawrence, with a beaming smile, assured him, "Don't worry about me. I'll find my way around."

Franco and Ben then left for a more private setting, moving through the throng of celebrities and industry insiders.

Meanwhile, not far from them, Nicholson was deep in conversation with his old friend Al Pacino. They were discussing the complexities of modern relationships when Nicholson's attention was momentarily caught by the sight of Affleck and Franco heading upstairs.

"Hold on, Al!" Nicholson interrupted, a playful glint in his eye. "Didn't you just say your new girlfriend is Lucila Polak? Almost 30, huh? That's practically ancient!"

Al Pacino snorted with a mix of humor and defiance, "She's nearly 40 years younger than me, Jack."

Nicholson shook his head in mock disapproval, "Do you know how young my latest girlfriend is? She's from the post-90s!"

Al, feigning outrage, exclaimed, "You scoundrel, preying on the post-90s now?"

Nicholson waved him off, "Oh, you're just out of touch, Al. You need to keep up with the times."

Al, not to be outdone, retorted, "Just wait, Jack. I'll find someone even younger and give you a run for your money."

"We'll see," Nicholson replied, leaving Al with a smirk.

He returned to the second floor, only to find Martin, Jolie, and Aniston missing. Unfazed by their apparent disappearance, Nicholson found a secluded spot to make a phone call. After a few attempts, he finally got through to Martin.

"Something going on?" Martin asked.

Nicholson, mischievously cranking up the volume, let the sounds of intimacy play through the phone, followed by a playful reminder, "Just a heads-up, Martin.

Remember to use protection. I don't want any surprise godchildren next year."

The unmistakable voice of Jolie rang out, "You're incorrigible, Jack!"

Aniston chimed in with a laugh, "You're going to get struck by lightning for this, Jack."

Satisfied with the banter, Nicholson hung up and strolled leisurely out of the hall towards the front door.

As he stepped outside, a sudden misfortune struck, a bird's droppings landed squarely on his head. Nicholson, in a rare moment of surprise, wiped his head, his hand coming away smeared. The night, filled with glamour and intrigue, had taken an unexpectedly messy turn.