Chapter 88: Chapter 88: Big Business
The golden beach pulsed with music, laser lights danced and dazzled, and the crowd, dressed in trendy attire, swayed in vibrant hues. Dozens of youthful, beautiful bodies moved in wild, serpentine dances.
As the music pounded on, Director Julian called for a stop, marking the end of the day's final scene.
Martin quickly scanned the crowd, his eyes locking onto a short blond woman. He borrowed a Polaroid camera from a film crew acquaintance before approaching her.
Scarlett Johansson, donning snug hot pants and a cropped T-shirt, engaged in conversation with someone.
After a brief wait and observing people dispersing, Martin stepped forward, greeting her with a smile, "Hi, Scarlett."
"Hello," Scarlett responded, recalling Martin as a supporting actor from the crew.
With a friendly tone, Martin continued, "I have a friend who became an ardent fan of yours after watching 'Lost in Translation.'"
Curiosity piqued, Scarlett inquired, "How ardent?"
Martin playfully exaggerated, "He went so far as to threaten to tear my head off unless I got him a signed photo of you."
Raising the camera in his hand, he added, "Scarlett, would you mind helping me keep my head?"
Scarlett, demonstrating her professionalism, quickly found an appropriate backdrop. She stood tall, her abdomen tucked in, and said, "You can take the photo now."
Although Martin had no intention of giving his friend a picture of Scarlett's backside, he decided to request a different angle. He tentatively asked, "Could you do a profile shot? My friend insists you look most beautiful from the side, even surpassing Monroe."
Scarlett, somewhat amused, raised her hands in resignation. She half-turned her body and expertly posed to accentuate her curves.
Martin snapped the photo quickly, allowing it to develop. Then, he retrieved a prepared signature pen from his pocket and handed it to Scarlett.
With a gracious smile, Scarlett signed the photo.
Martin thanked her warmly and proudly displayed the autographed picture.
Later, when he returned some Polaroids to the film crew, Director Julian happened to be present, providing Martin with an opportunity for a brief conversation.
The crew of "Entourage" had hired four directors, but Martin's scenes were exclusively with Julian, never overlapping with the others.
As Martin left the set, he crossed paths with the male lead, Adrian. Adrian initiated a greeting, "Hi, Martin. Want to head to the beach for a bit?"
Martin responded with a friendly smile, "Are you heading over for a drink together?"
Adrian nodded, "Once I'm done with work."
"Sure," Martin replied before continuing on his way.
As they passed each other, the smiles on their faces simultaneously faded.
Back on the beach, Martin was about to join the lively crowd of dancers when Daisy approached him.
"Leaving the set tomorrow?" she inquired.
Martin nodded, "Not many scenes left, and I wrapped up the last one today."
Daisy remarked pointedly, "I've worked with many actors, but you've left the strongest impression."
"Oh?" Martin inquired, "Really?"
Daisy stated, "You may look flirtatious, but deep down, you're a true gentleman."
Gentleman wasn't that often synonymous with gangster, etc.? Martin confessed with a smile, "You got that right."
Daisy, candid as ever, asked, "Well, gentlemen, would you like to stargaze tonight?"
Martin's mind raced to the Astronomical Association, but before he could speak, Daisy continued, "Stargazing can be a lucrative gig. For a young actor like me, the pay is pitifully low. I have to take on side jobs to make ends meet. Right now, I owe my landlord two months' rent."
Politely, Martin declined, "I'd love to, but I have someone to discuss star business with."
Daisy nodded, offering her hand, "I hope we'll have a chance to work together again in the future."
Martin shook her hand gently, "I hope so too."
Daisy walked away without looking back and struck up a passionate conversation with another male supporting actor from the crew.
Checking the time, Martin decided it was time to head home. For an actor in the eighteenth tier, such encounters were rare.
He got into his car, dialed Thomas's number on his phone, and as soon as the call connected, he was met with an irate voice, "You jerk, it's nighttime, not working hours! I'm on a date with my girlfriend!"
"Just one quick question," Martin replied swiftly, "Is everything okay on your end with the new job?"
In the hotel room, Thomas's girlfriend glared at him, her eyes like sharp arrows.
The contents of the entertainment agency's mailroom were filled with masterful PUA techniques. Thomas knew it was time to end the call and go appease his girlfriend, sealing the deal for a big business worth hundreds of millions.
However, the agent's responsibility weighed on him, so he continued, "Job opportunities in Hollywood are scarce. I'm helping you search, but you also need to look out for yourself. Check the Directors Guild tomorrow; there might be crews looking for actors."
Thomas's girlfriend stormed off, putting on her slippers and getting dressed.
Thomas hastily added, "That's it, don't call me during my personal time, alright?"
By the time he hung up, his girlfriend had already dressed.
Dumbfounded, Thomas asked, "You're leaving?"
"Go be with your work," his girlfriend replied tersely, walking out the door.
Thomas pointed at his computer, "What do I do with this?"
His girlfriend huffed, "You can do your own damn paperwork," before slamming the door shut.
Thomas pounded the sheets in frustration, grabbed his phone, and dialed Martin's number. When Martin picked up, he heard Thomas's angry voice, "Martin Davis, I hope you vecome gay for the rest of your life and that you cant get it up!"
Confused as to why Thomas was so upset, Martin responded, "I'm recording this call, just so you know. I forgot to mention in the file that I'm somewhat of a big deal in Atlanta. If you don't believe me, you can verify it. Allegations of discrimination, you know..."
Thomas, both tired and annoyed, couldn't comprehend what kind of client he had on his hands. After taking a deep breath, he decided that, for Louise Meyer's sake, it was best not to further entertain this conversation. He replied, "Regarding work, we both need to keep an eye out."
Martin said with optimism, "I'll be waiting for your good news."
Thomas didn't want to do paperwork alone, so he took a cold shower, sat in front of his hotel computer, and surfed the internet, specifically looking up keywords related to Martin Davis and Atlanta.
A pink water bottle ad popped up, almost taunting Thomas through the screen. According to the information, this product was developed by Martin Davis and a woman named Kelly Gray.
Thomas believed it must have been that woman's doing, creating such a cheap item.
But then he thought, could this guy see that far?
The next morning, Martin slept in and, when he finally got up for breakfast, he bought a pile of newspapers to scour for acting opportunities.
Most of them were looking for extras.
Martin couldn't go back to being an extra now.
The newspaper ads were of no use. Instead, a nearby fitness center caught his attention. It was one of the largest chain fitness centers in Los Angeles, offering not only fitness facilities but also swimming, archery, and combat training.
The walls were adorned with posters of muscular men and beautiful women. Martin remembered his promise to Bruce and decided to get a membership card. On his way, he stopped by a newsstand and bought numerous posters of Jennifer Lopez, Scarlett Johansson, and Madonna.
Unfortunately, he couldn't find any Kardashian posters. Martin searched online and visited video stores; Paris Hilton's were available, but not Kardashian's.
He remembered hearing that the latter had learned from the former and transitioned from being her bag-carrying friend to becoming a socialite, achieving worldwide fame.
Back at his apartment, Martin packed up the posters and the autographed photos from the previous night. He sent them off to Bruce via overnight courier and then drove to the Directors Guild to check for job opportunities.
Most of the listings were for extras with no major roles, much like the ones in the newspapers. Martin received a job information form, found a quiet spot to read it thoroughly, and looked for any projects that stood out.
One film caught his eye—the crew of "National Treasure" had been recruiting extras for the past few months. Another was "Dawn of the Dead," which was re-shooting and seeking zombie actors.
Martin perused the list further but found nothing that matched his criteria. It seemed that higher-tier opportunities didn't often trickle down to this level.
It was challenging to catch a break in this highly competitive industry.
Martin hadn't even heard of most of the movies listed on the information form.
After some contemplation, he realized the reality of the situation. Just like his experience at Gray Entertainment, only a fraction of film and TV projects shot in Hollywood made it to the big leagues, and only a fraction of that fraction gained international fame.
On his way back, Martin received a call from Louise in Morocco.
"Hey, macho man, did you miss me?" She still spoke in her flirtatious tone. "I'm going back to Los Angeles for vacation. Are your penicillin and screwdriver ready?" Louise's flirtatious tone filled the call.
Martin, ever the charmer, responded, "I concocted a new cocktail, I call it the Italian buck."
Louise's excitement was evident in her raised voice, "Since you're in Los Angeles, stay put. I'll be back five days before Christmas and return to Morocco after the New Year."
Curious, Martin inquired, "Do you need me to pick you up at the airport?"
Louise quickly reverted to her composed tone, "No, no need for that. An international master like me thrives on mystery."
She also had work commitments overseas, adding, "Wait for my call; I have a surprise for you."
During another weekend, Martin attended his accent classes.
Upon entering the classroom and taking his seat, Mene, a black actor who appeared to be undergoing some skin lightening treatment, approached him. Mene asked, "How's work been treating you lately?"
Martin kept it vague, "Mostly young actors, you know how it is."
Mene extended his hand in front of Martin's eyes, displaying a dazzling gold Rolex watch. Martin narrowed his eyes slightly, acknowledging Mene's recent success, "You've been doing well lately."
Mene withdrew his hand, "I've never considered taking on regular jobs. How about part-time work? You might not look as good as me, but it pays well."
He handed Martin a card, insisting, "Brother, don't think Boss Mene doesn't look out for you!"
Martin glanced at the card, recognizing it as belonging to an exclusive club.
Mene lowered his voice, sharing a secret, "Women use their looks to make money, and so can we. Many clients in this club are female stars, screenwriters, directors, and industry producers. They're a bit older; does age matter?"
It seemed like another opportunity worth millions, but Martin politely declined, "Thanks, but I'm not interested."
Mene frowned momentarily before taking the card back, "So, you've got another plan in mind?"
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