Model to Holywood

In the afternoon, the sun was shining brightly, and the temperature was around 93°F. The city, baked by the heat all day, felt stifling, with the air filled with car exhaust, as if flames were dancing in the sky.

Luca had left the office, wearing a baseball cap, a white T-shirt, and jeans, aimlessly wandering along Santa Monica Boulevard.

After reading the reviews earlier, his mood wasn't as carefree as he appeared. He wasn't just going to shrug it off; he was feeling a little down.

While filming *Honey*, he had enjoyed the process and got along well with the director, actors, and crew members.

He felt like his performance was decent, at least no worse than the original version.

But he hadn't expected to receive so much criticism—almost half of the negative reviews of the movie were aimed at him.

Luca shook his head. To think he was "honored" in that way.

**Ring, ring, ring!**

His phone rang.

"Hey, Luca, got time?"

It was Billy on the phone.

"What's up?"

"Got time? Come to Wilshire Boulevard, I'll treat you to a drink!"

"Wilshire Boulevard?"

Luca glanced up at the street sign—he was already at the shopping plaza on Wilshire Boulevard.

"Alright, I'll be right there!"

He hung up, flagged down a cab, and set off.

From Santa Monica Plaza to Wilshire Boulevard was about three blocks.

The streets were lined with cozy and romantic cafes, restaurants, bars, and well-known American brands like Forever 21, A&F, and Gap. Affordable prices made it a shopper's paradise.

On the Third Street Promenade, many street performers were putting on shows, attracting locals and tourists alike for a casual stroll.

On the promenade was a bar called Zinque, located above a theater. It was owned by a Frenchman and famous for its 200 wines, French sandwiches, and quiches.

The bar had a classy vibe, perfect for chatting.

In the afternoon, the bar wasn't too crowded. Gentle music played, and the air was filled with the fragrance of wine.

"Luca, over here!"

Billy waved from a booth.

"Billy, what are you doing at a place like this?"

Luca was surprised. Billy was a party guy who usually preferred rowdy bars.

Billy laughed and poured a glass of red wine. "This place is perfect for a chat, don't you think?"

"Chat with me?"

Luca smiled. "Congrats, Billy. Second in the weekend box office—a real dark horse!"

"Don't even mention it. The box office might be decent, but the reviews are terrible. I'm getting roasted alive!"

Billy sighed.

"You think that's bad?"

Luca pointed at his own face, looking defeated.

Billy paused, then burst out laughing. "Thanks to your sacrifice, the movie got a lot more exposure!"

"You're welcome."

Luca smirked and clinked his glass with Billy's.

"Luca, you wandering around by yourself?"

Billy chuckled as he set down his glass.

"Yeah, just read the reviews and came out to clear my head."

Luca sipped his wine and smiled.

Billy shook his head. "Luca, you really don't need to feel so down."

"Don't need to?"

Luca disagreed. "Have you seen the papers? Every *Honey* review these past few days has taken shots at me.

Some say I have no talent, some say I'm not fit to be an actor, and some outright tell me to get out of the entertainment industry.

My reputation's ruined. Shouldn't I be upset?"

"Nope! Do you know why those reviews are so harsh on you?"

Billy grinned.

"Why?"

Luca asked, his face dark.

"Because they're jealous!"

"Jealous?"

"Exactly!"

Billy nodded. "Luca, you're Brazilian, only 21 years old, and you're already making millions.

You not only have a supermodel girlfriend, but you've been linked with superstars like Britney, Aniston, and Jessica. Not too long ago, you even snatched Justin's girlfriend.

You need to understand, these women are dream girls for many people.

But they all fell for some guy from the Brazilian countryside."

"I didn't! I'm innocent with them."

Luca protested.

"You think anyone believes that?"

Billy shook his head, sighing. "Luca, Americans have had it out for you for a while. Now that your movie's out, do you think anyone's going to praise you?

No, no, they won't!

Even if you gave an Oscar-worthy performance, you'd still get slammed, or worse, ignored.

Criticizing you is the norm. Would anyone buy a newspaper that praised you?"

"..."

Luca was silent for a moment, starting to understand why Americans felt this way. In the past, when a foreigner married a national celebrity, he would also join in with the mocking crowd.

Now, the tables had turned—he was the foreign actor being mocked.

"Seems like a pretty serious situation."

"Yep. And this criticism isn't going away. It'll follow you throughout your career, until your acting is recognized and you're accepted.

Every foreign actor in Hollywood faces this struggle, especially since you're a flashy Brazilian. Targeting you was inevitable."

Billy swirled his wine and smiled.

Luca shook his head. There wasn't much he could do about it, except keep a lower profile and try not to make enemies.

"Thank you, Mr. Woodruff. Thanks to your advice, I feel even more depressed now."

Luca raised his glass, joking.

"Haha, you're welcome. I'm just reminding you on behalf of the American people—remember, you're a guest here. Best not to mess with the household treasures."

Billy grinned playfully.

"Understood!"

Luca clinked his glass and downed the wine. The Pinot Noir had a rich and delicate taste, like holding a milk-skinned beauty in his mouth.

"Billy, did you invite me here to threaten me on behalf of the American people?"

"Haha, of course not."

Billy laughed as he set his glass down. "Now that *Honey* is out, we should talk about our new film."

Luca nodded. "How about the B-plan I introduced you to last time?"

"Unfortunately, Ms. Aniston wasn't interested in the project. She passed the script and investment plan on to the production department at B-plan, and they recently responded—they aren't interested and won't be investing."

Billy shrugged.

Luca smirked. That result wasn't surprising. B-plan had invested over $100 million in the *Troy* project this year and didn't have the bandwidth for anything else.

"So, what's your plan now?"

"Well... we're planning to fund it ourselves."

Billy hesitated for a moment before speaking.

"Fund it yourselves?"

Luca looked at him in surprise. "You mean you're going to invest in this project? Do you have that kind of money?"

"Not just me, you too. That's why I invited you. Remember last time you said if the movie needed funding, I could come to you? No million dollars, but you could manage two or three hundred thousand. Does that still hold?"

Billy smiled.

Luca furrowed his brow, then relaxed, stroking his chin as he spoke slowly, 

"Have you drawn up a budget for the film?"

"Yes, our budget is around $8 million."

Billy came prepared. He opened his bag and took out a thick stack of papers.

Luca didn't have time to go through it all but remembered the movie's investment was roughly $10 million. He flipped through a few pages and asked, "And the remaining funds?"

"Annie and I... Hey, Annie, over here!"

Billy waved to someone in the distance.

Luca looked up and saw a tall figure approaching. In her thirties, with long blonde hair and a warm smile, she was a woman full of charm.

It was Annie Fletcher. He'd met her at the premiere and chatted for a bit.

Annie Fletcher was 38 years old, a master of various dance styles, Hollywood's top choreographer, and manager of EK Dance Studio. She had produced movies like *The Wedding Planner*, *My Fair Lady*, and *Burlesque*, and was also the original director of *Step Up*.

"Annie, good afternoon!"

"Good afternoon, Luca."

Annie shook his hand, set down her bag, and sat. "Luca, you don't look so good."

"Yeah, Billy just threatened me on behalf of 300 million Americans. I'm shaken."

"Haha!"

(End of Chapter)