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Chapter 191: A Farce
🕑 Added 2025-01-13 17:32:06 +0000 UTCIt wasn't exactly shocking—few women could resist Gilbert's charm.
What surprised everyone was Madonna's public display of affection.
After a brief moment of stunned silence, the audience, both guests in the hall and fans in the distance, erupted into cheers, whistles, and applause.
The camera zoomed in on Gilbert, who was smiling politely and clapping but made no further gestures, like responding to Madonna's blown kiss.
Meanwhile, Leonardo DiCaprio, sitting beside him, was making faces and fooling around, stealing part of the spotlight.
Reporters felt a little let down by Gilbert's lack of reaction. But it didn't matter—pairing a young, handsome, and nationally renowned director with an iconic pop superstar made for headline-worthy gossip.
Once the cameras shifted away, Gilbert turned to Leonardo and asked, "Didn't you say she was over forty? What's this about her thirty-ninth birthday? Is she celebrating soon?"
Leonardo shrugged. "I don't know. Rumor has it she's fifty. Some even say sixty."
"Uh…" Gilbert was speechless. "She doesn't look fifty at all!"
"Maybe there's technology involved," Leonardo joked before adding, "But I'm warning you—stay away from her. That woman is trouble."
Tom Hanks, sitting nearby, chimed in, "I've heard Madonna is hard to deal with. Gilbert, you should be careful."
Gilbert waved it off, unconcerned. "It's fine. It's not like she's going to get physical, right?"
Leonardo and Tom exchanged a look and said in unison, "Don't be so sure about that."
Gilbert soon learned firsthand how assertive Madonna could be, leaving him a little scarred mentally.
After the awards for minor categories were handed out, it was time for the main event. First up: Best Director.
Thanks to Saving Private Ryan, Gilbert triumphed over his competitors, taking home his first Golden Globe for Best Director.
This wasn't the first time he'd received a Best Director award—he had already won the Director's Guild Award the previous year. However, that ceremony wasn't televised, and the recognition only involved a brief announcement and a few photos.
Now, under the gaze of more than eleven million viewers across the U.S., Gilbert embraced Leonardo and Tom, then walked onto the stage amidst a wave of applause and adoring stares.
Unfortunately, Naomi Watts wasn't there. Otherwise, a French kiss on stage could have easily undermined Madonna's public advances.
Accepting the award from the presenter, Gilbert lifted the trophy high above his head before delivering a brief acceptance speech.
"Thank you, Charles. Thank you, Kane. And thank you to my crew—this movie wouldn't have succeeded without your support.
This award isn't just mine; it belongs to all of you.
I'd also like to thank Tom and Leo for their phenomenal performances, which brought this film to life.
Special thanks to Steven Spielberg—he's been my guide in Hollywood. Without his mentorship, I wouldn't be where I am today.
Finally, thanks to my father for his unwavering support, which has kept me grounded and passionate about my craft. And to the fans—your support is the driving force behind everything I do."
With that, Gilbert stepped off the stage and headed backstage for interviews with the press.
The reporters, still eager for a juicy scoop, wasted no time bombarding him with questions.
"Gilbert, do you have any thoughts on Madonna's public display of affection?"
Politely dodging the question, Gilbert responded, "She's a great singer. I enjoy her music."
"Would you go on a date with Madonna if she asked?"
Gilbert deflected again. "If the opportunity arises, I think she'd be perfect for performing a movie's theme song."
No matter how persistently reporters pried, Gilbert skillfully avoided giving them any material to sensationalize.
But reporters are masters of spinning stories. Even without a direct response, the potential scandal between Gilbert and Madonna was explosive enough to fuel headlines.
Later, Saving Private Ryan, despite winning Best Director, lost Best Motion Picture to The English Patient.
The Golden Globes played a balancing act—one award for each film, keeping everyone satisfied.
Even after the ceremony ended, the buzz lingered.
There was a celebratory after-party, an optional event. Since Gilbert had won Best Director, skipping it would've been seen as disrespectful to the organizers.
However, at the party, Gilbert encountered the last person he wanted to see: Madonna.
Holding a glass of wine, Madonna clung to Gilbert the entire time, insisting they drink together. She appeared to be a poor drinker, as she soon became tipsy and started pulling at her dress.
In front of everyone, she grabbed Gilbert's hand and placed it over her chest.
"My heart belongs to you, Gilbert," Madonna slurred. "Take me away. Let's fly together."
She laughed in a way that, combined with her heavy makeup, came across as both seductive and unsettling.
The crowd backed away, leaving Gilbert to fend for himself.
"Ms. Ciccone, you've had too much to drink. Let your assistant take you home," Gilbert advised.
"I'm not drunk," Madonna declared, locking eyes with him. "Don't you want to take the queen of pop, adored by millions, and make her yours? Ravish me?"
Gilbert thought to himself, Maybe, but not with you.
Of course, he couldn't say that aloud. Instead, he replied, "Ms. Ciccone, you know I have a girlfriend."
Unfazed, Madonna retorted, "So what? You're not married. Even if you were, it wouldn't matter. We could share the fun!"
Faced with Madonna's relentless advances, Gilbert felt helpless. He couldn't just slap her to snap her out of it—this was a public setting, after all.
Leonardo watched in astonishment. "Wow, looks like our genius director can't handle Madonna."
Tom Hanks turned to him. "Aren't you going to help him?"
Leonardo shrugged. "If Madonna were interested in me, I'd gladly take his place. But she's not."
Seeing Tom's concern, Leonardo reassured him, "Relax. I already called Naomi. She's on her way to save our director."
Meanwhile, Nicole Kidman was glaring at Madonna. Not only had Madonna stolen her role, but now she was going after Gilbert.
If Tom Cruise hadn't been beside her, Nicole might have rushed over to settle the score.
Tom Cruise observed the scene with amusement. "Who knew? Gilbert might soon be unable to resist her, just like Rodman."
Fortunately, cameras weren't allowed at the party. Otherwise, this spectacle would've made headlines across not just Hollywood but all of America.
Despite Gilbert's efforts to maintain his composure, Madonna nearly succeeded in kissing him several times. Unable to reach his lips due to their height difference, she settled for his neck, leaving several visible marks.
Her suction was so strong it felt like a vacuum cleaner—truly terrifying.
Finally, salvation arrived.
"Madonna Ciccone!" a loud voice rang out, jolting Madonna from her daze.
Turning around to identify the interrupter, Madonna was met with a sharp slap to the face, leaving her momentarily stunned.
It was Naomi Watts.
Though startled, Madonna's fiery nature took over, and she prepared to retaliate.
Gilbert quickly stepped in to shield Naomi, his tone firm. "Ms. Ciccone, you need to rest."
Blocked by Gilbert, Madonna couldn't reach Naomi and resorted to shouting obscenities instead.
"You b****! How dare you ruin my plans? I'll kill you!"
Naomi, usually poised, refused to back down. "Your plans? You were seducing my boyfriend. You're the shameless one!"
Taking advantage of a momentary lapse in Gilbert's guard, Naomi pinched Madonna, eliciting a loud cry of pain.
Madonna, enraged, lunged forward, but Gilbert held Naomi tightly, ensuring Madonna couldn't touch her.
While holding Naomi, Gilbert discreetly kicked Madonna, venting his frustration over the evening's chaos.
That kick subdued her. Madonna looked at Gilbert with tearful, pitiful eyes, as though seeking sympathy.
Gilbert, unfazed, averted his gaze, catching Nicole Kidman suppressing a laugh.
Nicole is so beautiful, he thought, using her as a distraction to shake off any lingering emotions from Madonna's antics.
Leonardo swooped in just then, taking hold of Madonna and calling for her assistant. "Ms. Ciccone has had too much to drink. Please take her home."
The trembling assistant finally dared to step forward, escorting Madonna out and bringing an end to the farce.
Though the partygoers were disappointed to lose their entertainment, they couldn't deny the spectacle they'd witnessed tonight.
Who would've thought that Madonna, revered by millions, could act like such a diva—or a mess—in private?
With Madonna gone, Gilbert sighed in relief and turned to Naomi. "Are you okay?"
Naomi smiled and reassured him. "I'm fine. But will slapping her cause trouble for you?"
"It won't," Gilbert replied, pulling her into an embrace and kissing her in front of everyone. "She was out of line. You handled it perfectly."
Naomi's expression softened. She noticed the marks on his neck and frowned, turning to Leonardo. "Leo, could you get me some tissues?"
"On it," Leonardo replied, fetching a pack of wet wipes like a dutiful assistant.
Naomi carefully wiped the marks off Gilbert's neck, silently vowing never to let him face such a situation alone again.
Though the chaos had ended, the story was far from over.
A public slap wouldn't sit well with someone like Madonna. To save face, she would undoubtedly retaliate against Naomi.
But Naomi wasn't worried. Hollywood was a battlefield, and competition was constant. If it wasn't Madonna, it would be someone else.
Nicole, having lost a role to Madonna, seemed like a potential ally. Perhaps it was time to mend their friendship and teach the pop queen a lesson.
The incident, witnessed by so many, would undoubtedly become the talk of Hollywood, even if the media chose not to report it.
After all, the glamour of Hollywood often masked the chaos beneath. Beneath the lotus's pristine petals lay nothing but mud
