Tokyo: My Best Actor Gear List

Chapter 13: Filming Wraps Up and a New Beginning

December 28, Akasaka Prince Hotel.

The wrap party for "Sunflowers in Winter".

The banquet hall was resplendent with gold, and the champagne tower was piled up so high it seemed about to collapse.

It hasn't reached the most frenzied peak of the bubble economy yet, but the television station's ostentatious displays already exude a sense of extravagance.

Flashbulbs popped incessantly in the center of the stage as Matsumoto Kazuya, his arm around the leading lady, beamed with joy. Representatives from the investors and television executives surrounded them, the sounds of clinking glasses and showering them with compliments filling the air.

Kitahara Shin stood behind a pillar in the buffet area, holding a plate, intently working on a thick slice of roast beef.

The world of fame and fortune has its own laws of physics—the spotlight always shines on the center. As a supporting character, going up to offer a toast at this point would only make him seem like an inconsiderate nuisance; he'd be better off focusing on filling his stomach.

"Aren't you going to show your face at the front?"

A voice reeking of alcohol rang out beside me.

Kitahara Shin put down his fork, touched his lips with a napkin, turned around and gave a slight bow: "Producer Ishida."

Executive producer Ishida had a half-smoked cigar between his fingers, his face flushed, clearly having drunk quite a bit.

He glanced at Kitahara Shin, who was cutting beef, and said casually, "Director Suzuki just mentioned you to me again. He said you're the most 'film-efficient' newcomer he's seen in recent years, no need to worry about you, you're very useful."

"Easy to use".

This is the highest, and also the harshest, praise for a supporting role in the industry. It signifies high cost-effectiveness and strong utility.

"It's all thanks to the director's excellent guidance," Kitahara Shin replied professionally.

"Alright, save the pleasantries for the reporters."

Ishida flicked his cigarette ash, took a step forward, and didn't even bother to lower his voice, because nobody around him paid any attention to this corner:

"That stubborn old man Suzuki insists that I get you a chance. He says that the crew for the Taiga drama 'Kasuga no Tsubone' is short of people next year, and he wants you to try out for that young samurai named Inaba Masasada."

Kitahara's heart stirred.

It turns out that it was director Suzuki who strongly recommended it.

"Although it was just a minor supporting role, it was NHK, and the entry requirements were incredibly high. Even though Suzuki was the B-team director there, he didn't have the authority to directly cast people."

Ishida casually pulled a folded piece of paper from his suit pocket and tossed it onto Kitahara Shin's tray.

"This is the casting team's pass. I've already made arrangements, but that's all. Next Wednesday at 10 AM, NHK Broadcasting Center in Shibuya."

Ishida looked at him, his eyes showing little expectation, more like he was completing a favor he had to do:

Whether you get selected or not is your own business. If you don't get selected, don't mention that I recommended you; I still have to save face over there.

This is Ishida's philosophy of life.

I'll do favors when it's convenient, but I'll never take any risks.

If Kitahara Shin succeeds, it's because he's mentoring a junior; if he doesn't, it has nothing to do with him.

Kitahara Shin put away the pass, his expression calm: "Understood. Having this ticket is enough. Thank you for your trouble."

"Um."

Ishida responded, his gaze already drifting to a representative from GG who had just walked in. He patted Kitahara Shin on the shoulder lightly, as if brushing dust off his clothes, then turned and squeezed into the bustling crowd with his wine glass in hand.

……

Halfway through the banquet, Kitahara Shin left early.

As I stepped out of the hotel, a cold rain mixed with snow began to fall in Tokyo.

He hailed a taxi.

"Let's go to Nakano."

The train carriage was very warm.

Kitahara Shin leaned back in his chair, watching the blurry neon lights outside the window recede into the distance.

Ishida's attitude just now was very realistic and clear-headed.

In this circle, no one will protect you for no reason.

That pass is just an admission ticket; once inside, whether you live or die depends entirely on your own abilities.

Half an hour later.

A quiet apartment building in Nakano Ward.

Kitahara Shin took out his key and opened the door.

This is the new home we just moved into yesterday.

Compared to the previous drafty wooden apartment, this place, although only a one-bedroom, has a separate bathroom and a window that doesn't let in any draft.

He went into the bathroom and turned on the tap.

Steam rose.

The moment I sank into the bathtub, the sense of security from being enveloped in hot water finally relaxed my nerves, which had been tense for three months.

He grabbed a can of beer from the shelf next to him and took a big gulp.

Tomorrow I need to go to the library to look up information about "Inaba Masasada," and I also need to clean that "screenwriter's glasses."

Now that we've got the tickets, there's no reason for us to leave empty-handed.

"call……"

He let out a long breath, closed his eyes, and let the steam blur his vision.