Eleanor took a glass, sipped it carefully, and said, “The taste is a bit strange.”

Lily was quick, snatching another glass and sniffing it hard: “Eleanor, this drink is like Martin releasing in your mouth…”

Martin slapped his palm on top of Lily’s head: “Idiot, watch your mouth.”

Harris took away Lily’s glass and enjoyed it alone: “Is there something you’ve learned that we don’t know about?”

Martin said, “I’m also good at riding.”

Lily couldn’t hold back: “I know, riding…”

A knife-like glare swept over, and Lily shut her mouth completely.

Of course, what Martin meant was proper riding—he could ride horses because he’d been a stunt double.

Eleanor finished her Foam Beauty, remembered something, and took out a packaged disc to hand to Martin: “The copied video recording.”

Harris asked, “Is it still useful?”

Martin put it aside and mumbled, “Even if that loser quits tomorrow, his drug test will still be positive for a long time.”

The others didn’t get it and put it out of their minds, focusing on eating and drinking.

After eating and drinking her fill, Eleanor asked, “You’re not going to run off with the money like that bastard Jack, are you?”

Martin opened another beer: “With this little money, if I run off to some strange place, once it’s spent, I’ll be worse off than now.”

There was some truth and some lie in that, because Martin had indeed considered running away. As for whether he would, he’d see how things went.

Eleanor moved her legs onto the sofa: “I’ll let you pay the rent a bit late. Go pay off some of your loan sharks first. I’ve heard the boss of Beast House, Vincent, is tough to deal with.”

She turned to ask, “Have you thought about a new job?”

Of course Martin had: “Doing what I’m best at…”

Lily had been waiting for a chance and immediately cut in: “You’re best at fucking Eleanor!”

Martin stood up, flexing his fists, and asked Lily’s siblings, “You don’t mind if I beat up an underage girl, do you?”

Lily dashed off: “I drank too much, I’m going to bed.”

It was getting late. Harris, tired from a long day, dragged Hall back to their room.

Eleanor got up to clean the trash off the floor, braced herself on the coffee table, and bent over to pick up the napkins Hall had tossed around.

Twenty-one years old, delicate features, curves like valleys and peaks—who could resist?

Martin got up and leaned over, hugging Eleanor and pushing the takeout trash off the coffee table.

…

In the morning, Martin was sleeping alone on the long sofa.

The Carter house wasn’t big, only two bedrooms: Eleanor and Lily shared one, Harris and Hall shared the other.

There was no way Martin could squeeze into a room with the Eleanor and Lily sisters. After finishing up last night, he was too lazy to go back next door and just slept on the long sofa.

Half asleep, half awake, in a daze, Martin started thinking again about what he was best at.

What was he good at? Acting, and some skills related to acting—mainly hustling in the entertainment industry.

In his previous life, when he was young, he had delusions of grandeur, wanting to be the next Sha Gen, wasting his best years on it.

If it was just about acting, even though he was self-taught, he was willing to study and endure hardship. After landing supporting roles, even some veteran actors with formal training would praise him.

Acting is a field that relies heavily on talent. In his previous life, Martin had decent talent, but in the entertainment industry, success or failure isn’t decided by talent or acting skills.

Martin had long since lost his naivety and had a clear understanding of himself.

His predecessor, Martin–Davis, was almost at the bottom of society, with almost no connections, negative assets, and not even a basic education.

Martin knew very well that if he wanted to get ahead in the future, it was best to work in a field he was good at.

Hollywood’s film and television industry isn’t easy to break into either. In fact, for poor folks, unless you shoplift or join a gang as cannon fodder, it’s hard to do anything else.

Martin’s short-term goal became clear: adapt to American society, learn more about the film and TV industry, and make more money to go to Los Angeles or New York to look for opportunities.

Atlanta could also be a starting point. After all, by around 2015 in his previous life, Atlanta had become the third largest film production base in the US, after Los Angeles and New York.

The main thing is opportunity—many times, opportunity is far more important than ability.

Martin opened his eyes and suddenly saw Lily–Carter sitting on the coffee table, arms crossed over her chest, staring at him intently, her bright eyes full of curiosity.

That gaze was so direct that Martin instinctively wrapped the blanket tighter around himself for protection: “What are you doing?”

Lily said, “Just curious, wanted to see if there’s anything different here, and why Eleanor’s voice gets even higher when she’s lying here screaming.”

Chapter 7 Pay Up and Act

After grabbing a quick breakfast, Martin went out alone. After a night’s rest, his leg pain had improved even more, and the memories from his predecessor’s life were becoming clearer.

With his body feeling better, he couldn’t waste time—there was still a lot to do.

Martin stored the burned disc, grabbed the JVC camcorder, and headed to the grocery store on the north side of the community.

Early in the morning, Scott–Carter was already drinking, sunlight shining on his face, his nose redder than the traffic light at the intersection.

Martin put the camcorder on the counter: “Returning your stuff. By the way, Harris got treated.”