HPDBC Chapter 241 Audition for "Love Letter"
Chapter 241 Audition for "Love Letter"
Chapter 241 Audition for "Love Letter"
TBS television station, the highest-standard audition room.
The door was filled with nervous producers and TV executives, making it seem as if the people sitting inside were not actors auditioning, but the station director on an inspection tour.
"Tell Me You Love Me" is a flagship romance drama that TBS has invested heavily in this year.
The script tells the love story between a highly talented young painter who has lost his hearing due to illness and a young actress in a theater troupe who is striving to pursue her dreams, a love story that transcends the silent world.
The male protagonist, Koji, is deaf and mute. All his emotions, love, struggles, and loneliness can only be expressed through sign language, eye contact, and subtle body language. This is a role that demands an almost obsessive level of acting skill. If you overdo it, it will resemble a comical silent film; if you restrain yourself too much, it will become a lifeless piece of wood.
Inside the audition room, the director and producer sat upright. Next to them sat Takako Tokiwa, who had been cast as the female lead long ago, nervously twisting the script in her hands.
In fact, everyone present knew perfectly well that today's audition was just a formality.
With the arrival of Kitahara Shin, a superstar who just achieved a box office miracle of 5 billion yen, TBS executives worked overnight to renovate the male lead's private dressing room.
The director had even prepared a script in advance, and as soon as Kitahara Shin made a few gestures, he would immediately lead the applause and shout "Perfect!"
As the door was pushed open, Kitahara Shin walked in.
He wore an extremely simple white cotton-linen shirt and had no bodyguards with him; only Secretary Aida followed quietly behind him.
"President Kitahara, it's truly an honor for our crew to have you here—" The director quickly stood up, about to offer his prepared compliments, but was gently interrupted by Kitahara Shin.
"Director, today I'm actor Kitahara Shin. Since this is an audition, let's follow the rules." Kitahara Shin walked to the center of the venue, pulled up a wooden chair, and sat down. His tone was calm. "Which scene are you auditioning for?"
The director paused for a moment, then quickly flipped open the script: "Then—let's try the pivotal scene where the male lead first confesses his loneliness to the female lead, and he says 'Tell me you love me' in sign language."
Tokiwa Takako took a deep breath and walked to the opposite side of Kitahara Shin, acting as his co-star.
"We can begin," the director called out.
Kitahara Shin sat in the chair, his head slightly lowered.
Now, his acting skills have reached a level of "returning to simplicity" that is difficult for ordinary people to achieve. The infectiousness and empathy that he used to have to rely on system equipment and badges to forcibly enhance have now been completely integrated into his bones and muscle memory. He no longer needs to deliberately activate any skills. As long as he wants, that infectiousness that can penetrate the soul will be as natural as breathing, perfectly matching the magnetic field of the current character.
He raised his head and looked at Tokiwa Takako in front of him.
Clear and gentle, yet carrying a heartbreaking sense of inferiority and deep affection, a yearning that is both intense and untouchable.
His lips twitched slightly, as if he wanted to make a sound, but only a hoarse and meaningless gasp escaped his throat.
Then he raised his hands and began to use sign language.
His movements were slow, even trembling slightly. Every gesture was not like a mechanical translation, but rather like forcefully dissecting his own chest, presenting his wounded heart to the other person.
As he used sign language, his eyes gradually reddened, and a tear welled up in his eye, but he stubbornly held it back, refusing to let it fall. That desperate cry for help in a silent world instantly pierced the hearts of everyone present.
Looking into those eyes, Tokiwa Takako's tears instantly welled up. She completely forgot that she was auditioning; she was gripped by Kitahara Shin's overwhelming sorrow, and her heart ached so much that she could hardly breathe.
"Card----"
The director's voice was terribly hoarse when he called "cut," and tears welled up in his eyes.
The audition room was silent, save for Tokiwa Takako's suppressed sobs.
Everyone was completely stunned. They had thought that Kitahara Shin was just a capital tycoon who was there to make a brief appearance, but who would have thought that he would deliver a textbook-level, god-like performance right from the start!
Without a single line of dialogue, just a glance and a few gestures were enough to drag all the professionals present into a suffocating world of sorrow. This wasn't acting; it was pure magic!
"This is...this is amazing!" The producer swallowed hard, his eyes filled with extreme awe as he looked at Kitahara Shin. "Mr. Kitahara, you...you're not just a genius investor, you're an absolute acting monster!"
The director was so excited he was almost incoherent, clapping vigorously: "Truly deserving! Absolutely deserving! There's no one else in all of Japan who could play the role of Koji except you!"
Kitahara Shin composed himself, withdrawing from the silent shell of the painter. That heartbreaking sense of loneliness vanished instantly.
He tore off a tissue and handed it to Takako Tokiwa, who was still wiping away tears, and smiled gently at the director.
"Then, it's a pleasure to cooperate with you."
After leaving TBS television station, Kitahara Shin's car drove directly to the cheap office building where the "Love Letter" preparation team was located.
The atmosphere in the cramped office was as tense as if an inspection from superiors was imminent. Director Shunji Iwai, lead actress Miho Nakayama, and several key members of the production crew all sat upright, staring intently at the door.
Actually, there has always been a big question within the production team: which role is Kitahara Shin, this big shot, auditioning for?
-
The absolute core of the film "Love Letter" is the female lead, played by Miho Nakayama (who plays both Hiroko Watanabe and female Fujii Itsuki). On the male side, there are two important roles: one is the boyish white moonlight "male Fujii Itsuki" who exists in the memories, and the other is the adult boyfriend "Shigeru Akiba" who is currently by Hiroko's side, affectionate and tolerant.
Given Kitahara Shin's current status and age, he could play any role without looking out of place. Everyone thinks he must have come for that extremely outstanding "white moonlight" role.
The door was pushed open.
Kitahara Shin walked in with his secretary, Aida. His gaze casually swept around the office before landing on a young man in the corner who looked nervous and flustered.
He was an extremely handsome young man, with features so exquisite that they seemed to have been kissed by God, and an innate, cool, and slightly melancholic clean temperament emanating from him.
Takashi Kashiwabara.
Kitahara Shin raised an eyebrow inwardly. He certainly recognized the face hailed as "the last beautiful boy of the 20th century." That innate first-love feeling was practically tailor-made for "young Fujii Itsuki." Kitahara Shin always knew how to follow the most authentic beauty of film; he had no intention of stealing the spotlight.
Moreover, although the adult male supporting character "Shigeru Akiba" has less screen time than the female lead, he is a devoted character who can actually hug the female lead in real life and even have kissing scenes with her.
"Director Iwai, it's an honor to meet you." Kitahara Shin withdrew his gaze, extended his hand to Iwai Shunji, and naturally got to the point, "I've read the script and think Kashiwabara Takashi is perfect for the role of the young boy. As for me, I'm very interested in Akiba Shigeru. Let's audition him today."
Upon hearing this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and Kashiwabara Takashi gave Kitahara Shin a grateful look. At the same time, Nakayama Miho's heart skipped a beat.
Shigeru Akiba is not only the second male lead, but also the man who will kiss Hiroko, played by Akiba, in the movie and eventually end up together with her!
"Okay—okay, President Kitahara." Shunji Iwai quickly handed over the script. "Shall we try out the scene where Akiba confesses to Hiroko, trying to help her overcome her past trauma?"
"no problem."
Kitahara Shin took off his coat and walked up to Nakayama Miho.
Facing this top tycoon with a 5 billion yen box office legend and an imposing aura, Miho Nakayama was so nervous that her palms were sweaty, and a secret little admiration welled up in her heart. She looked up and found that the man in front of her had completely changed.
Without the oppressive feeling of being in a superior position, Kitahara Shin's eyes became extremely affectionate and warm, even carrying a hint of helplessness and humility because his beloved woman still couldn't forget her ex-boyfriend.
He looked at Miho Nakayama as if she were an extremely precious yet fragile piece of porcelain.
"Hiroko, forget about him—look at me, okay?"
Kitahara Shin's deep and inclusive gaze enveloped her as he recited his lines with extreme gentleness. That incredibly genuine affection instantly shattered Nakayama Miho's psychological defenses, causing her to involuntarily follow Kitahara Shin's emotions.
Under the guidance of such overwhelming yet gentle acting skills, the audition was passed on the first take without any suspense.
Kitahara Shin stepped out of the play, smiled, and nodded at her.
Looking at the short-haired beauty in front of him, whose eyes held an innate melancholy and aloofness, Kitahara Shin suddenly felt an extremely strong surge of emotion and感慨.
He recalled the jarring news he had seen in his past life. This top goddess, who was incredibly popular in the 1990s and regarded as the "white moonlight" of all Asia, ultimately drowned alone in a bathtub due to heat shock at the age of fifty-four, ending her life in such a heartbreaking and tragic way.
The harsh realities of life shattered her fragile nature.
But now, in this early spring of 1995, she is still the Miho Nakayama who stands at the peak of beauty and charm.
Kitahara Shin blinked slightly, a deep pity flashing in his eyes.
"Mr. Kitahara—" Shunji Iwai rubbed his hands together, a mixture of excitement and trepidation in his voice, and asked, "Is there a scheduling conflict? It's still snowing in Otaru, Hokkaido, and we need to start filming your snow scenes with Ms. Nakayama immediately. As for Takashi Kashiwabara's flashback scenes, I'd like to save them for a few months when the weather is warmer—"
"No problem, we can leave anytime."
Kitahara Shin turned his head, the extremely simple core story of "Love Letter" coming to mind: a letter sent to heaven, a secret love buried by heavy snow, and two women who look exactly alike.
"Notify the entire crew!" Shunji Iwai's face flushed with excitement. "The main force will depart the day after tomorrow, heading to Otaru, Hokkaido!"
After the audition, everyone left the office one after another.
Miho Nakayama's heart was still racing. Kitahara Shin's deep yet restrained gaze had been like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples in her heart. She took a deep breath and mustered her courage to walk up to Kitahara Shin, who was about to leave.
"President Kitahara—" she began, still a little nervous, "If you don't mind, I'd like to invite you to dinner tonight. Partly to thank you for guiding me during the audition today, and partly—actually, I've been wanting to formally address what happened before."
Kitahara Shin looked at the aloof and elegant beauty before him, a hint of a smile flashing in his eyes, and readily agreed: "Alright, then just call me Kitahara. There's no need to keep calling me president. In the 'Love Letter' crew, we're just partners."
An hour later, the two sat in a private room at a very secluded high-end Japanese restaurant in the port area.
After a few cups of sake, the initial awkwardness and restraint gradually dissipated.
"Actually, a few years ago, at that dinner party, I wanted to ask you for a collaboration opportunity." Miho Nakayama held a warm wine glass in both hands, her eyes sparkling with a touch of nostalgia. "Back then, you had just finished filming 'Tokyo Love Story' and were already a rising star that everyone was watching. I had just walked over with my wine glass when you were called away by senior Shima Iwashita. Later, you went on to film 'Gokusen no Wife', and in recent years, your career has only gone higher and higher."
"I remember now." Kitahara Shin smiled and poured her a glass of wine. "Time flies. But I've always been curious, back then you were the most popular top idol singer in all of Japan, with record sales in the millions, why did you insist on switching careers to become an actress, which was a thankless task?"
In the Japanese entertainment industry of this era, transitioning from idol to actor has always been a thankless and arduous path. A poor performance will be met with criticism as a "pretty face," while even a good performance will struggle to shake off the established stereotypes attached to the actor.
Miho Nakayama looked at the sake in her glass, remained silent for a moment, and then her eyes became serious.
"Being a singer is often about the packaging and arrangements by the agency. On stage, I'm more like a beautifully crafted product with a pre-programmed schedule." She gently shook her head. "But acting is different. It was only after reading the scripts that I slowly discovered what I truly loved. On this path, I can use the shell of a character to vent and express my true self. Figuring out what I really want is much more important than how much record royalties I earn."
Kitahara Shin nodded slightly, somewhat appreciating her clear-headedness.
"And what about you, Kitahara-kun?" Miho Nakayama looked up, her eyes filled with undisguised curiosity. "You just achieved a box office miracle of 5 billion yen, and everyone thought you would continue making those big-budget productions that sweep the market. Why are you interested in a low-budget, art-house story like 'Love Letter,' which is full of regret and even a bit of sadness?"
"Because resumes need to be balanced."
Kitahara Shin put down his chopsticks, his tone very frank: "Mainstream commercial films can help me build my empire and establish absolute rules. But it's like getting used to eating rich and fatty foods; you always need something that can truly settle you down. Art films are an indispensable part of my acting career, and even my journey to all of Asia."
He paused, his gaze deepening. "Besides," he said, "I personally love this story. Unrequited love, regret, missed opportunities, and that simple 'How are you?' spoken amidst a blanket of snow. That pure beauty is very moving."
Whether he was an ordinary movie fan in his past life or a driving force in this life, Love Letter holds a place in this man's heart no less important than those box office hits.
The two chatted amiably in the private room. They discussed everything from the details of the script to their understanding of the characters, occasionally punctuated by light, relaxed laughter. Miho Nakayama discovered that beneath the cold exterior of that "capital tycoon," the man before her possessed an incredibly rich and captivating soul.
But none of them noticed that on the side of the road opposite the Japanese restaurant, in an inconspicuous bread cart, a hidden telephoto lens was already pointed at the window of their private room.
"Click, click—"
""
The paparazzi cameras didn't flash, but the subtle chemistry between the two as they chatted and laughed by the window, and even as their eyes met, was captured with remarkable clarity by the paparazzi's film.
The next morning.
The crew of "Love Letter" is about to depart for Hokkaido. Kitahara Shin arrives at the top-floor office of Kitahara's office to have Secretary Aida prepare the travel documents for the trip to Otaru and a few warm clothes.
As soon as he reached the office door, he suddenly stopped in his tracks.
Two women were sitting on the leather sofa in the office.
Akina Nakamori, wearing a soft beige knit sweater, held a cup of hot tea and looked at him with a smile. On the other side, Rie Miyazawa, wearing a very stylish trench coat, crossed her long legs and held a freshly printed entertainment newspaper.
"Good morning, Shin-kun." Akina put down her teacup, her voice still gentle, but her beautiful eyes held a hint of a smile.
"It seems our busy president not only landed a new script last night, but also made some new connections." Rie tossed the newspaper she was holding onto the coffee table, a playful yet slightly dangerous smile playing on her lips.
The bottom right corner of the front page of the newspaper prominently featured several photos that, while not entirely clear, clearly showed faces—"The Myth of 5 Billion Yen and the Secret Meeting of the Top White Moonlight? Kitahara Shin and Nakayama Miho Chat and Laugh at a Japanese Restaurant Late at Night."
Seeing his two confidantes, who were usually busy with their own things but were now surprisingly appearing together in his office, Kitahara Shin's heart, which was usually unfazed even when facing a tycoon, skipped a beat for the first time.
A subtle, almost imperceptible sense of panic, akin to being caught red-handed, crept up my spine.
"Aren't either of you going on any gigs today?" Kitahara Shin coughed lightly, trying to make his steps as natural as possible as he walked in.
This is clearly a joint inspection!
>