From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

… … So, who knows what's really going on? We're all just standing here like idiots, waiting for a whole week.

No idea. The world of superstars is beyond our mortal understanding.

Who knows, maybe he's doing some kind of artistic creation!

"Hahaha."

This isn't the first time. It was the same with 'Spider-Man' last time.

Last time was different, wasn't it? That was an injury…

Said it was an injury, but who knows the truth? We're all rolling around in Hollywood. We should know that the truth you see is the truth they want you to see. But who knows what's really going on behind the scenes?

Exactly, exactly. Maybe he knew Sony Columbia was trying to cause him trouble, so he faked an injury to strike first and catch Sony Columbia off guard.

Now the whole of Hollywood is praising him. It seems abnormal. I reckon it's a PR stunt to cover something up.

Having been in Hollywood for so long, you should have learned something. These so-called superstars, they seem so gentlemanly, polite, and glamorous on the surface, but what are they really like in private? Are you still harboring illusions?

Right, right, right. I bet even the legendary super handsome guys are nothing special. Just like Tom Cruise, I honestly think he's like a child. I bet he's not even five feet eight inches (173 cm), at most five feet six inches (168 cm), at most!

Are you saying that Anson is just like you in private, a foot-scratching slob, right?

"Hahaha."

I don't have any illusions about him, please don't misunderstand. I'm not interested in men. God, I just hate these self-righteous Hollywood superstars. They're good for nothing but their looks. I can't stand their stupidity and willfulness.

You better pray that he'll behave himself after filming starts.

I highly doubt it. He'll probably use some artistic creation as an excuse again to mess with the crew. I bet the director won't object to him either.

Blah blah blah.

They couldn't stop talking, one after another. Gossip is like Pandora's box. Once it's opened, it can't be closed. All sorts of monsters and freaks come out, and rumors, both true and false, fly everywhere.

The point is, they weren't seriously discussing things. It was purely complaining, purely venting. As they talked, the topic had long since strayed into outer space.

They didn't even know what they were complaining about anymore.

Cody Caffey rolled his eyes, the thick, dark beard on his chin moving vividly as his mouth opened and closed.

Anyway, he's a superstar. Countless boys and girls scream for him, even wanting to offer themselves directly. They look at him as if they were worshiping a deity. We little shrimps are just messing around.

The gossip continued, but the atmosphere changed slightly without warning.

The people in front were all putting out their cigarettes and constantly winking, looking like they had facial nerve disorders, which was really hard to not complain about.

The bearded Cody, who couldn't stop once he started talking, wasn't unaware, but he didn't care. Instead, he glared back and spat out a harsh complaint.

What, did you see Lucifer?

Haha, I'm not falling for it. Your eyes are clearly hinting that Anson is behind me, right? I've watched too many Hollywood movies and TV shows. This kind of prank doesn't work. Save it.

Let me tell you, even if Anson were here, I would still say the same thing.

He's a self-centered bastard who doesn't consider our workload at all. We're paid by the project, not by the hours worked. We're waiting here, bored, our income isn't increasing, and it will affect subsequent work. We might not get other projects.

He's a top superstar, millions and tens of millions are like drinking water and eating for him, but we have this project but don't know where the next one is. We need to support our families, okay?

The more he spoke, the more excited he became, the more angry he became.

His lungs were about to explode.

Then, a voice came from behind, "Why don't you submit a written complaint? If that guy leaves you hanging here for most of the day."

Cody sneered directly, "Are you stupid? If we submit a complaint, we'll be exposing ourselves and waiting to be targeted. Worse, we'll just lose our jobs. Anyway, there are too many people in Hollywood waiting to be fed."

He was about to retort, but he was a beat too late to react. His brain crashed, and he stared blankly at the faces in front of him, some stiff, some evasive, some anxious—

Each with a different expression, but they didn't lie.

Cody felt goosebumps all over his back.

"He's behind me, right?"

Cody heard his voice trembling, but the people in front of him all looked away and avoided contact. No one was willing to answer his question.

His heart sank.

Damn it! God! Why did this happen to him?

Everyone on the crew was saying bad things about the actors and directors, all the staff without exception, and they had never been discovered. Why was he the one who got caught?

"Heh heh."

The voice behind him said, "I don't eat people, really. Although I don't know what the rumors are in Hollywood, I don't eat people. I swear."

His words were laced with teasing and banter.

However, Cody couldn't laugh, instead falling into despair.

Taking a deep breath, Cody mustered his courage, gritted his teeth, and turned around—

"Hey." A greeting came from the front.

Cody then realized that he had been closing his eyes, with an expression as if he was ready to die. He forced himself to open his eyes, and then he saw Anson's face with a warm smile.

"Oh."

Cody wailed and his knees buckled, almost making him sit down.

Saying bad things behind someone's back wasn't a big deal. Everyone in Hollywood did it.

But being caught by the person you were talking about behind their back was a real disaster.

Cody felt like his world had collapsed in that instant. Although everyone had been saying bad things about Anson just now, he guessed that he was the only one who had been caught red-handed.

He thought that he might lose his job. No one liked being talked about behind their back.

Despair. Pain. Torment.

A vivid expression, conveying more information than words. Anson couldn't control it, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile.

"Good morning, what's your name?"

Cody was stunned and wailed.

Anson reacted a beat too late, "I was just simply asking for your name…"

But obviously, at this time, at this moment, Anson asking for his name seemed like he was going to hold him accountable.

Cody couldn't listen at all, presuming that he had offended Anson. He muttered, his name already on the tip of his tongue, but he still didn't have the courage to say it, feeling like he was foolishly washing his neck and waiting to die.

So, what to do?

Even after going around in different crews, he still didn't have a solution to this situation.