America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

Chapter 96: Chapter 96 Old Cloth Arrives

The audition room door oped, th closed, and Adrian stood in front of the camera, his dark brown, nearly black shoulder-lgth hair specially styled, disheveled with a hint of raffish elegance.

Mary Gale didn't like this hairstyle, much like she despised the Beatles wh she was younger.

But she didn't show her disdain and simply said, "Let's start."

Adrian and the assistant began the sce.

Susan Levin remembered this actor; Robert Downey Jr. had mtioned him to her a few times.

His acting was passable, above the standard, but quality is relative, and compared to Martin Davis, who had performed the best earlier, he was clearly a notch below.

The audition ded quickly.

After the actor left, Susan asked as usual, "How was he?"

Ev though Mary didn't like him, she wouldn't say it directly: "Average, just what you'd expect from a normal person."

This statemt reinforced Susan's similar opinion. She nodded slightly, "Notify him tomorrow, he'll play Dalton."

Since Robert Downey Jr. had just gott gaged, Susan was more considerate of him, and a marginal supporting role would have little impact on the project.

Mary took note of that.

The auditions continued, and by the time everyone had finished, Jason Shawn had still not appeared.

Susan, nominally the third in charge but actually the producer responsible for the crew, directly instructed Mary, "Cancel his audition eligibility."

The audition for the role of Nick Jones was finished; Susan wouldn't audition anyone else separately.

As the audition room door closed, the casting team held a meeting right there.

After replaying all the audition tapes, Susan, slightly more amiable in her work demeanor, asked, "Martin Davis, no objections, right?"

The casting departmt wasn't foolish; ev if there were objections, they wouldn't voice them.

Glancing at the time, Susan told Mary, "Notify him officially tomorrow."

The meeting was brief, and after it disbanded, Mary walked with Susan and inquired, "What about the auditions this afternoon?"

Susan waved her hand dismissively, "I won't attd, you decide on the other roles."

As a veteran in the industry with decades of experice, Mary's competce wasn't the issue. Ev with her own agda, whoever she picked would meet the basic standards.

They parted ways, and Mary returned to her office, found the contact information, and made a phone call, "The usual place tonight, did you find the person I told you to find? Good."

Thinking of the black lad with the bleached gold hair, Mary felt quite pleased; no one in the past few years put in such an effort to sweet things up for her.

...

In the parking lot of Warner Bros. Studios, Martin watched as the flashing lights of the ambulance approached.

The familiar stout figure was lifted onto the ambulance by paramedics.

Thomas recognized him, "Seems like one of the company's clits."

Martin had se him more than once on the set of "Star Partners": "Adrian's lackey, is it Bonnie or Tony?"

He ssed something unusual: "Go find out what happed."

Thomas replied, "I'm your agt."

Martin easily manipulated him with just a few words: "It might be related to the auditions."

"Not a precedt!" Thomas emphasized, th wt to inquire. After making a few calls, he returned.

He came back quickly and told Martin, "It's really related to the audition. Tony had a minor car scrape with Paris Hilton's boyfrid Jason Shawn. The two had a verbal altercation… no, more accurately, Shawn assaulted Tony and was th tak away by the police. Tony seems to be quite injured."

Martin was no fool; upon hearing this, he was convinced it was no accidt and shook his head, "That's really messed up!"

Thomas, not hearing clearly, asked, "What?"

Martin said, "The competition is fierce."

"You'll get used to it," Thomas responded, understanding his point, "The female actors are where it really gets intse and colorful."

Martin initially mtioned Jason Shawn to divert Adrian's atttion towards Shawn. He didn't expect Adrian to take Shawn so seriously.

Thinking of the ever-smiling Adrian, Martin felt a chill up his spine: "I've got a bad feeling."

That guy was scum. He asked Thomas, "Is Adrian highly valued at the company?"

Thomas said, "Sort of; he's among those just starting to make a mark."

Martin pondered whether to shake things up. Pulling out his cell phone, which had be off and he hadn't turned it back on, he quickly rebooted it and soon received alerts for three missed calls.

Just as he was about to return the calls, his phone rang.

Martin answered; Bruce's voice was as grating as ever: "You pile of dog shit, wh nobody is looking for you, you make it impossible for people to live in peace, but wh someone needs you, they can't get through."

"Because I can smell your stch from Los Angeles!" Martin retorted sharply, "The shit your brother is on made its way from Atlanta to Los Angeles!"

Bruce said, "I'm in Los Angeles!"

Martin, surprised: "What? Old Cloth, you're in Los Angeles?"

Bruce responded, "North Hollywood Valley Drive, in the parking lot by Bank of America. If you don't show up in half an hour, I'll rob the Bank of America and tell those motherfuckers you masterminded it all."

Martin hung up the phone and told Thomas, "Drive, to the Bank of America in North Hollywood, and hurry!"

"I'm not your driver!" Thomas murmured to himself and took the driver's seat, speeding towards North Hollywood with Martin.

Arriving at the parking lot in front of Bank of America, Martin spotted Bruce immediately.

Bruce got down from a Ford pickup truck, "Looks like you're doing pretty well for yourself."

"Not like you, needing to sell your ass." Before Bruce could become civilized, Martin changed the subject, "Did you drive here from Georgia?"

Bruce shrugged, "After 9/, air travel is too tightly regulated, too easy to leave a trail." He nodded at Thomas, "Who's this? Your new lackey?"

Thomas thought to himself, what kind of country bumpkin is this, spewing profanities, reeking of foul odor.

"My agt, Thomas," Martin introduced briefly, "Thomas, this is Old Bruce, my brother, a professional cleaner."

He added specifically, "If you ever kill someone and can't handle it, just call Old Bruce. As long as you pay ough, he'll take care of it perfectly."

Thomas nodded to Bruce and said to Martin, "I'll leave you guys be."

Martin reminded him, "If there's any news from the crew, let me know immediately."

Thomas got in the car and hurried away.

Martin climbed into the passger seat of the Ford pickup, pointing to an apartmt to the north, "Go there." At the same time, he reminded him, "Keep your piece tucked away; this is California, where gun control is strict, not Georgia."

Bruce said, "I was stationed in California wh I served in the military. I have both a gun licse and a concealed carry permit. I'm not one to give race-traitors a chance to clear their magazines."

As the car drove into the parking area, Martin helped carry the luggage and led Old Bruce into the apartmt building.

Bruce wt up to the second floor and smirked, "I thought you lived in a Malibu or Beverly Hills mansion and came to seek refuge with you."

Martin oped the door, saying, "You can stay here for now, pick any of the two bedrooms." Considering that Louise might come over to sing wh she was back in Los Angeles, after all, she found it exciting, "Once an apartmt frees up, I'll rt one for you."

Bruce threw down his suitcase and sat on the sofa, "Wer't you going to be with me 'til the d of time?"

Martin oped the refrigerator, took out a can of beer, and threw it to him, "Your stch, I could smell it from thousands of kilometers away. Old Bruce, there's another thing, do you want me to list wh you go through the back door?"

Bruce oped the beer and gulped a big mouthful, "Alright, I don't mind."

Martin grabbed another can of beer and asked, "What brought you to Los Angeles all of a sudd?"

Bruce explained briefly, "I got on a black list of a trafficker group in eastern Mexico. I'm not afraid of a straight fight, but what if I get backstabbed? Vinct treats me well; I can't drag him into this."

"Sorry," Martin understood immediately, "My mess got you involved."

Bruce was not polite with Martin, "So, I had no choice but to seek refuge with you."

Martin said, "From now on, you're my personal agt."

"Sounds high-class and sophisticated," Bruce asked, "What's the main job?"

Martin thought for a momt, "Drive, carry bags, keep me company, and watch my back."

Bruce looked surprised, "Did you use the Vaseline I gave you?"

Martin wt to rummage through Bruce's bag, intding to take out the gun, "Old Bruce, you looking to meet God early?"

Bruce snorted, "God's a black man; he wouldn't meet a racist."

"You came at the perfect time; I met a scumbag…" Martin detailed the incidt from earlier.

"Don't worry, I won't let him mess with you," Bruce sighed, "I left one shithole only to jump into another."

Looking at the time, Martin said, "It's noon, let's go, we'll have lunch out, and I'll take you a Los Angeles in the afternoon."

"And the San Fernando Valley?" Bruce was actually very curious, "I've always wanted to see firsthand how those movies are made."

Martin asked, "A live viewing?"

Bruce shrugged.

The two left the building just in time to bump into Antonio.

The fat man rolled down the stairs like a ball and, upon seeing Bruce, asked Martin, "Is he a producer?"

Bruce spoke up, "Correct, I'm a producer from Hollywood."

Antonio patted Martin's arm, "Get to the Hya sooner; don't wait until you can't handle it anymore."

Martin glared at Old Bruce, th turned to the landlord, "He's into bigger guys, so I especially brought him over."

Antonio turned pale and rapidly retreated up the stairs, "Don't mess a; I have a gun!"

Martin said, "Which guy doesn't have a gun?" Worried the landlord's heart couldn't handle the stress, "Just a joke, he's my frid. Antonio, if a place frees up here, hold onto it for him."

Antonio turned back, his trembling chest much larger than Jessica's, "No problem, I'll notify you first wh a place is available."

Martin and Bruce wt downstairs, found a spot for lunch, and headed together to the San Fernando Valley.

On the way, Martin called Jna Jameson. Her company had officially started after the New Year, was shooting the first film, and welcomed them both to visit.

In the San Fernando Valley studio, Martin and Bruce wore crew badges and arrived at the filming site.

Jna Jameson personally served as the director, and wh the actress was too tired to catch her breath due to the long duration, the director stepped in to perform herself.