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Chapter 9 - 9: Welcome to Hollywood

Th๐“ฎ most uptodate nov๐‘’ls are publish๐’†d on ฦ’reewebฮทoveโ„“.com.

Chapter 9: Welcome to Hollywood

---

"Bye, Dad! Bye, Mom!" Martin waved energetically as he stepped into Nancy's car, leaving his family behind.

"Excited?" Nancy asked, glancing over with a smile. "Does it feel like a weight has been lifted?"

"A little," Martin admitted, "but I'm also a bit sad."

"Oh, don't worry; it's just because this is your first time leaving home. You'll get used to it soon."

"No, Aunt Nancy, you misunderstood. I'm mostly sad that I won't get to eat Aranda's cooking for a while!"

Nancy burst into laughter. "Alright, little guy, you got me. I underestimated you."

After they'd shared a laugh, Nancy's tone turned serious.

"Martin, I need to warn you. Hollywood isn't all glamor and lights. Behind the scenes, there's a lot of drugs, drinking, reckless behavior, and some... not-so-innocent manipulation."

Martin listened intently, then responded with a thoughtful smile. "I get it, Aunt Nancy. Underneath the roses, there are always thorns. Hollywood's shiny facade hides plenty of grime because, at the end of the day, it's a place where desires collide."

And I like it! he thought privately. The more chaotic and full of desire, the better. It's exactly the kind of place a demon like me thrives in.

Nancy glanced at him, surprised that he seemed so mature. This kid really is an old soul, she thought, taken aback.

"Well, since you know the risks, don't be surprised if I'm extra strict with you," she warned.

"I won't. I know you're looking out for me."

Nancy nodded, thinking that Martin was definitely more mature than her two daughters, who seemed consumed with crushes and fashion choices. Grant really was lucky to have such a sensible son.

They drove in silence for a while, but instead of heading directly to the set, Nancy took him to her Hollywood office.

"Alright, have a seat. Want something to drink?" she asked.

"Do you have any wine? I'd like to try some."

"Nice try. It's milk or juice, kiddo."

"Alright, juice it is," he grinned. "Relax, Aunt Nancyโ€”I was just kidding."

"Hmph. Noted. If I don't like what I see on set, I'll tell your dad."

"Okay, okay, I'll behave," Martin laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender.

Nancy poured him a glass of juice, then pulled a folder from her desk drawer. "Here's your script contract and your acting contract. Your dad signed them, but this copy is for Disney. Want to take a look? I bet your dad didn't let you see it."

"Of course I do! Dad still treats me like a little kid."

"Here, but be carefulโ€”don't spill juice on it."

"Got it!"

Martin eagerly took the contracts, reading each page closely. His script contract gave Nancy free rein over the screenplay rights, which she'd used as leverage in her negotiations with Disney. His acting contract, though, included a $100,000 salary plus 5% of the box office, which was the part Martin was most satisfied with.

"Oh, Aunt Nancy, is it true I'll need a tutor on set?"

"Thinking of ditching your studies?"

"Just hoping for a break once in a while. You know I've always been an A-student, and I'm already ahead of my grade, working on ninth-grade material."

Nancy nodded, aware that Martin's academic progress had been remarkable lately, almost as if he'd had a sudden surge of intelligence. Not only had he completed his current grade early, but he'd also begun tackling high school coursework on his own.

She eyed him seriously. "Nope. Even if I wanted to give you a break, child labor laws wouldn't allow it. Inspectors from the Child Actors Guild will be checking in on set, and we don't want any fines."

"Alright," Martin sighed, shrugging. He then changed the subject. "Aunt Nancy, who did you cast to play my parents?"

"We got Dennis Quaid for the father," she replied.

"As for the mother, we wanted Julia Roberts, but her fee was outrageous, so we went with Natasha Richardson. She's talented and much more affordable."

"And for the 'other woman' trying to steal my dad?" Martin asked, grinning.

"We cast Elaine Hendrix. She's got that seductive look and experience playing the 'other woman' type of roles, so she's perfect."

"Good casting, Aunt Nancy!" Martin nodded. "Don't worryโ€”I won't let you down."

"Oh, and Martin," Nancy added, "you'll need a good agent to navigate this industry. Your parents and I will help you find someone trustworthy."

"Sounds good to me," Martin said confidently.

---

By December, Los Angeles had shifted into a mild winter. People swapped T-shirts and shorts for long sleeves, but even in December, California's winter was hardly chilly.

At San Bernardino National Forest, on the outskirts of Los Angeles, The Parent Trap crew had begun filming.

"Alright, next up is the fencing scene!" Nancy's voice rang out across the set. "Martin! Martin!"

It seemed every director eventually developed a short temper, and Nancy was no exception. The production had already encountered numerous setbacks:

First, the cinematographer's accident had delayed things. Then, a last-minute problem with their original location forced them to relocate to this forest. And working with child actors came with its own set of challenges. Directing a bunch of eleven-year-olds was no small feat; laughter, tears, pranks, and even minor crushes were common on set.

The one bright spot in the chaos was Martin. True to his word, he was responsible and focused, needing no extra supervision. Even Nancy's biggest worryโ€”his acting abilityโ€”had proven unfounded. Martin's natural talent left everyone, including Disney's on-set associate producer, impressed. The producer had even remarked, "This kid's a born actor."

"Coming!" Martin called, jogging out of his trailer in fencing gear, looking excited and ready for action.

[๏ปฟ•โ€”โ€”โ€”•โ€”โ€”โ€”•โ€”โ€”โ€”•]

๐™„ ๐™ฌ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ ๐™š ๐™– ๐™ข๐™ค๐™ข๐™š๐™ฃ๐™ฉ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™š๐™ญ๐™ฅ๐™ง๐™š๐™จ๐™จ ๐™ข๐™ฎ ๐™œ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ช๐™™๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ค๐™จ๐™š ๐™ฌ๐™๐™ค ๐™จ๐™ช๐™ฅ๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ฉ ๐™ข๐™š ๐™ค๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™Ÿ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง๐™ฃ๐™š๐™ฎ. ๐™”๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™ž๐™—๐™ช๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™จ ๐™ข๐™–๐™ ๐™š ๐™– ๐™ง๐™š๐™–๐™ก ๐™™๐™ž๐™›๐™›๐™š๐™ง๐™š๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š!

๐—ฆ๐—ฝ๐—ฒ๐—ฐ๐—ถ๐—ฎ๐—น ๐˜๐—ต๐—ฎ๐—ป๐—ธ๐˜€ ๐˜๐—ผ:

• ๐™…๐™˜๐Ÿญ๐Ÿฎ๐Ÿฌ๐Ÿฎ

• ๐˜ผ๐™๐™ข๐™–๐™ง๐™ž๐™Ÿ๐™–๐™

• ๐—๐—ฎ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐—ฏ ๐— ๐—ผ๐—ฒ๐—ฒ

๐—”๐˜€ ๐—ฎ ๐—ฝ๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐—ป, ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚ ๐˜‚๐—ป๐—น๐—ผ๐—ฐ๐—ธ:

• ๐—˜๐˜…๐—ฐ๐—น๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ถ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ ๐—”๐—ฐ๐—ฐ๐—ฒ๐˜€๐˜€: ๐™‚๐™š๐™ฉ ๐Ÿญ๐Ÿด๐Ÿฑ+ ๐™–๐™™๐™ซ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š๐™™ ๐™˜๐™๐™–๐™ฅ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ ๐™–๐™๐™š๐™–๐™™ ๐™ค๐™› ๐™š๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™š ๐™š๐™ก๐™จ๐™š.

• ๐—˜๐˜…๐—ฐ๐—น๐˜‚๐˜€๐—ถ๐˜ƒ๐—ฒ ๐—ฆ๐—ต๐—ผ๐˜‚๐˜-๐—ข๐˜‚๐˜: ๐™๐™š๐™˜๐™š๐™ž๐™ซ๐™š ๐™– ๐™จ๐™ฅ๐™š๐™˜๐™ž๐™–๐™ก ๐™จ๐™๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฉ ๐™š๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™ฎ ๐™˜๐™๐™–๐™ฅ๐™ฉ๐™š๐™ง ๐™–๐™จ ๐™– ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฃ๐™  ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™›๐™ค๐™ง ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™จ๐™ช๐™ฅ๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ง๐™ฉ!

๐—ฌ๐—ผ๐˜‚๐—ฟ ๐˜€๐˜‚๐—ฝ๐—ฝ๐—ผ๐—ฟ๐˜ ๐—ป๐—ผ๐˜ ๐—ผ๐—ป๐—น๐˜† ๐—ณ๐˜‚๐—ฒ๐—น๐˜€ ๐—บ๐˜† ๐—ฐ๐—ฟ๐—ฒ๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ถ๐˜ƒ๐—ถ๐˜๐˜† ๐—ฏ๐˜‚๐˜ ๐—ฎ๐—น๐˜€๐—ผ ๐—ต๐—ฒ๐—น๐—ฝ๐˜€ ๐—บ๐—ฒ ๐—ด๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐˜„ ๐˜๐—ต๐—ถ๐˜€ ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐—บ๐—บ๐˜‚๐—ป๐—ถ๐˜๐˜†. ๐—œ๐—ณ ๐˜†๐—ผ๐˜‚'๐—ฟ๐—ฒ ๐—ป๐—ผ๐˜ ๐—ฎ ๐—ฝ๐—ฎ๐˜๐—ฟ๐—ผ๐—ป ๐˜†๐—ฒ๐˜, ๐—ฐ๐—ผ๐—ป๐˜€๐—ถ๐—ฑ๐—ฒ๐—ฟ ๐—ท๐—ผ๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ถ๐—ป๐—ด ๐˜‚๐˜€!

๐Ÿ‘‰ ๐™…๐™ค๐™ž๐™ฃ ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฌ: ๐™ฅ๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™š๐™ค๐™ฃ.๐™˜๐™ค๐™ข/๐™‚๐™ค๐™™๐™Š๐™›๐™๐™š๐™–๐™™๐™š๐™ง

๐Ÿ’ฌ ๐˜ผ๐™ก๐™จ๐™ค ๐˜ผ๐™ซ๐™–๐™ž๐™ก๐™–๐™—๐™ก๐™š: ๐™ˆ๐™ฎ ๐˜ผ๐™™๐™ซ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š๐™™ ๐™๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™ก๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ ๐™‹๐™ง๐™ค๐™ข๐™ฅ๐™ฉ! ๐™๐™ฃ๐™ก๐™ค๐™˜๐™  ๐™ฉ๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™š๐™ญ๐™˜๐™ก๐™ช๐™จ๐™ž๐™ซ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ค๐™ก ๐™›๐™ค๐™ง $30โ€”๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ฌ ๐™ฌ๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™– 10% ๐™™๐™ž๐™จ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ช๐™ฃ๐™ฉ! ๐™…๐™ช๐™จ๐™ฉ ๐™ช๐™จ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™˜๐™ค๐™™๐™š: ๐—š๐—ข๐——๐—ข๐—™๐—ฅ๐—˜๐—”๐——๐—˜๐—ฅ.

๐™’๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™š ๐™ฅ๐™ค๐™ฌ๐™š๐™ง ๐™ค๐™› ๐˜พ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ๐™‚๐™‹๐™ ๐™˜๐™ค๐™ข๐™—๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™š๐™™ ๐™ฌ๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™ข๐™ฎ ๐˜ผ๐™™๐™ซ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š๐™™ ๐™๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™ก๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ ๐™‹๐™ง๐™ค๐™ข๐™ฅ๐™ฉ, ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฃ ๐™š๐™›๐™›๐™ค๐™ง๐™ฉ๐™ก๐™š๐™จ๐™จ๐™ก๐™ฎ ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™ก๐™–๐™ฉ๐™š ๐˜พ๐™๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™š๐™จ๐™š ๐™ฃ๐™ค๐™ซ๐™š๐™ก๐™จ ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™€๐™ฃ๐™œ๐™ก๐™ž๐™จ๐™ ๐™ฌ๐™ž๐™ฉ๐™ ๐™๐™ช๐™ข๐™–๐™ฃ-๐™ก๐™ž๐™ ๐™š ๐™–๐™˜๐™˜๐™ช๐™ง๐™–๐™˜๐™ฎ, ๐™˜๐™–๐™ฅ๐™ฉ๐™ช๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™š๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™ฎ ๐™ฃ๐™ช๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™™๐™š๐™ฉ๐™–๐™ž๐™ก. ๐™๐™๐™ž๐™จ ๐™ช๐™ฃ๐™ž๐™ฆ๐™ช๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ค๐™ก ๐™™๐™š๐™ก๐™ž๐™ซ๐™š๐™ง๐™จ ๐™ง๐™š๐™จ๐™ช๐™ก๐™ฉ๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™๐™–๐™ฉ ๐™ง๐™ž๐™ซ๐™–๐™ก ๐™ฅ๐™ง๐™ค๐™›๐™š๐™จ๐™จ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™–๐™ก ๐™๐™ช๐™ข๐™–๐™ฃ ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™ก๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ค๐™ง๐™จ, ๐™—๐™ง๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช ๐™š๐™ญ๐™ฅ๐™ง๐™š๐™จ๐™จ๐™ž๐™ซ๐™š ๐™–๐™ฃ๐™™ ๐™–๐™˜๐™˜๐™ช๐™ง๐™–๐™ฉ๐™š ๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™–๐™ฃ๐™จ๐™ก๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ž๐™ค๐™ฃ๐™จ ๐™ฉ๐™ค ๐™š๐™ฃ๐™๐™–๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š ๐™ฎ๐™ค๐™ช๐™ง ๐™ง๐™š๐™–๐™™๐™ž๐™ฃ๐™œ ๐™š๐™ญ๐™ฅ๐™š๐™ง๐™ž๐™š๐™ฃ๐™˜๐™š!

๐Ÿ‘‰๐—ฆ๐—ต๐—ผ๐—ฝ: ๐™‹๐™–๐™ฉ๐™ง๐™š๐™ค๐™ฃ.๐™˜๐™ค๐™ข/๐™‚๐™ค๐™™๐™Š๐™›๐™๐™š๐™–๐™™๐™š๐™ง/๐™Ž๐™๐™ค๐™ฅ

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