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The residence of Henry Goldstein was constructed in a style of modern minimalism, offering a breathtaking view of the illuminated city through its glass walls, a sight capable of enchanting any guest

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The residence of Henry Goldstein was constructed in a style of modern minimalism, offering a breathtaking view of the illuminated city through its glass walls, a sight capable of enchanting any guest. The prominent soirée revolved around an upcoming film, drawing the attendance of Hollywood's elite. Film company owners, veterans of classic cinema, box office stars, television favorites, renowned singers, musicians, fashion designers, writers, and influencers alike graced the event with their presence.

Iris, despite her own success, felt like a little girl in innocent white dresses, seemingly out of place amidst the glamorous crowd. French champagne flowed freely, and forced laughter reverberated against the backdrop of classical music.

Her mother thrived in social interactions, warmly greeting those around her, exchanging the latest gossip, and dragging Iris along like a prized pet. Fatigued by the superficial conversations with strangers, Iris tried to uphold her end of the social charade, if only to avoid disappointing her mother.

After exchanging pleasantries with several guests, they made their way to a spacious terrace with a pool, where a stage had been set up.

"This is Daria Stonewell, editor of Style magazine and wife of screenwriter Jack Stonewell," her mother whispered, lowering her voice as they navigated through the crowd. "I've heard rumors about Jack's interest in young actors, but it's likely just idle chatter. Come, let me introduce you."

Approaching the middle-aged couple standing near a table beneath the stage, her mother initiated the introductions. The man, with semi-long black hair and adorned in an extravagant suit, listlessly smoked a cigarette, while his wife, dressed modestly in Dior attire and black-framed glasses, was engrossed in the performance of a small orchestra.

"Hello, you must be Daria. I admired your article on the new millennium designers; it was truly inspiring. I'm Claudia Kingston, and this is my daughter, Iris," her mother greeted warmly.

"Good evening," Iris chimed in with a gentle smile.

"Pleasure to meet you," replied Daria. Jack Stonewell, finally diverting his attention from the stage, joined the conversation.

"You're the singer who performed The Other Side, correct?" he inquired.

"Yes, that's me," Iris affirmed, slightly surprised by the recognition. It was peculiar that even individuals within the entertainment industry were familiar with her work. Megan Fox had once mentioned in an interview that she enjoyed singing Iris's songs in the shower.

"I enjoyed your music video. Who directed it?" Jack queried further.

"Oliver Smith. It was a fantastic experience collaborating with him. Iris cherished every moment in front of the camera," her mother interjected.

"Really? Perhaps you should consider trying your hand at acting in a film," Jack suggested casually, taking a sip of champagne.

"We're contemplating it. By the way, have you seen Henry? I need to discuss something with him." In truth, her mother had no acquaintance with Henry Goldstein, a fact that left Iris puzzled by the fabrication. Ignoring her mother's inquisitive glance, Iris nodded in agreement.

"Just go ahead. I'll enjoy the performance," she assured her mother.

As her mother departed to attend to her purported business matters, Iris found herself reluctantly engaged in conversation with the Stonewells. Though she had no desire to prolong the interaction, she remained polite, suspecting her mother had a motive for leaving her in their company.

"So, Iris, are you interested in Avalon?" Jack inquired as Claudia departed.

"I believe it could be an intriguing opportunity," Iris echoed her mother's sentiments. What else could she say? While acting held little appeal to her, she had promised to explore the possibility.

"If Henry gives his approval, I see no reason why you couldn't audition for the role of Princess Venetia," Jack remarked.

Princess Venetia was a pivotal character, and Iris was aware that auditions for such roles were typically by invitation only. The question lingered regarding how her mother intended to maneuver this detail.

"That would be wonderful. I've always admired the portrayal of Venetia by Elizabeth Ward," Iris admitted, though she had only learned of the actress earlier that afternoon through a Wikipedia article forwarded by her mother.

"It appears you share a resemblance with her," Jack observed, appraising her figure thoughtfully.

Of course, they bore similarities. Adorned in innocent white lace, Iris had even styled her hair to mirror Venetia's original portrayal. "Do you think so?"

"Undoubtedly."

At that moment, an actor from a popular comedy series took the stage. "Good evening, everyone," he addressed the audience amidst applause. "I hope you're all enjoying yourselves because Henry has a special treat in store for you tonight. None other than the young and talented Joel Delaney!"

As the spotlights illuminated the stage in a dramatic hue of purple, the guests fell silent with anticipation. When Joel emerged, strumming a guitar, several girls erupted in excitement.

Iris felt a slight tremor. She had never met Joel Delaney before. Tall, blond, and undeniably attractive, his voice surpassed his physical appeal. Enthralled by the melody of his most renowned song, even Iris found herself captivated, silently mouthing the lyrics along with the crowd. Though she hadn't particularly enjoyed his latest album, she couldn't deny that, despite his scandalous reputation, Joel possessed an undeniable stage presence. Clad in a white shirt and trousers, he exuded an aura of mystery, accentuated by colorful tattoos adorning his arms that complemented his rebellious image.

Mesmerized, Iris watched him perform, momentarily feeling as though Joel's emerald gaze had locked onto hers.

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