From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Watching the city outside the window, draped in a faint melancholy after the autumn rain, Edgar had already perked up and sorted out his thoughts.

Being a model is an opportunity, especially for Anson at this stage; they need to spread Anson's name far and wide.

Actually, Edgar didn't need to come to Paris—

In Hollywood, an agent's responsibilities are very clear: career planning.

Agents are responsible for planning an artist's career, and they liaise with producers, directors, and production companies to secure audition opportunities for actors, provide actors with the right advice, and push actors to the positions they aspire to.

However, agents are not responsible for an artist's personal life, on-set work, or other miscellaneous matters; of course, if conflicts or accidents occur on set, the agent still needs to appear to handle them, but he is only responsible for handling the events, and nothing else falls within the agent's responsibilities.

The division of labor is very clear.

In other words, Edgar didn't need to follow Anson to Paris on a business trip; these trivial matters should be handled by an assistant or a manager.

However, Anson currently has neither an assistant nor a manager.

More importantly, this trip to Paris may be related to Anson's next image building, and Edgar needs to deal with the media, brands, and other potential sponsors, and try to explore the European market.

Therefore, Edgar also crossed the Atlantic to work in Paris himself.

After slightly sorting out his thoughts, clarifying today's work schedule and key points, and looking down at the time, Edgar turned and entered the room across the hall.

"Anson?"

"Anson!"

Thump.

A pillow flew over, startling Edgar. Only then did he realize that he had never witnessed Anson's morning grumpiness. The danger alarm had just been sounded, but his dodging action was still half a beat too slow. The pillow came head-on.

Smack, hitting Edgar's cheek hard.

Standing there, with a look of utter despair, he silently took a deep breath.

"Anson, you need to get up. We need to leave in a little while. If you haven't adjusted to the time difference yet… …"

Bang.

The second pillow hit Edgar's cheek again. He even forgot to dodge, enduring it with his eyes closed. Only then did his brain react.

"You're throwing these with perfect accuracy. You're already awake, aren't you? Just lazing in bed, right?"

Pfft.

A muffled chuckle came from under the covers, then he couldn't hold back anymore and burst into laughter, but it was only for a brief moment before he regained control.

The next second, Anson was already sitting up straight, looking like he had just woken up. He stretched out a big yawn, then "discovered" Edgar with a surprised expression, "Hey, good morning, Captain."

Edgar: Can he swear?

But after thinking about it, Edgar still held back. He felt that arguing with Anson was probably not a wise choice, "Give you fifteen minutes to wash up and get ready. That should be enough, right? We're leaving at 9:30."

After saying that, Edgar turned and left.

Thwack.

As soon as he closed the door, Edgar could only bite his lip and let out a muffled roar, then punched the air wildly, flailing around until he had vented all his frustration. Only then did he calm down, straighten his clothes, and fix his hair, as if nothing had happened, and strode away.

In fact, Anson was quick. Lazing in bed was one thing, but once he got up, he was very efficient. He had finished everything in less than ten minutes and appeared in the hall, so much so that Edgar was stunned and caught off guard again.

"Let's go."

Anson left first, leaving Edgar behind:

Something doesn't seem right, does it? Why is Anson acting like Edgar is the one who was lazing in bed?

"Hey, hey!" Edgar protested repeatedly, quickly catching up, the hotel corridor echoing with cheerful laughter.

This time, the accommodation in Paris was provided by "Fashion" magazine, located in the famous Four Seasons Hotel on Avenue George V in the Golden Triangle of Paris.

The hotel is located in the heart of Paris. A turn from the quaint streets leads to the Champs-Élysées, and the Arc de Triomphe can be seen at a glance. The tall, neat plane trees make the city center feel like a garden, as if one can feel the traces of history deposited in the texture of the buildings, allowing the pace of time to slowly flow back along the intertwining of the brick walls.

However, the interior of this hotel, completed in 1928, follows modern design. The clean lines and generous black and white color scheme appear fashionable and young, unassuming and unpretentious, subtly displaying its own color, yet silently blending into the charm of the Golden Triangle.

Even on the bustling Avenue George V, filled with people coming and going, the Four Seasons Hotel is still a fashionable landmark, quietly attracting people's attention.

Passing through the black marble corridor and around the stone wall screen in front of the executive lounge, the view suddenly opens up, entering the hotel lobby shrouded in amber light, and the scene of busyness yet maintaining tranquility comes into view.

Thanks to its location, the Four Seasons Hotel is the preferred choice for people visiting Paris all year round; and with Paris Fashion Week just around the corner, one can see tourists coming and going in the hotel even more.

A scene of bustling activity.

Jean-Louis Kalfon was entertaining an oil tycoon and his new girlfriend who had come to attend Paris Fashion Week. Obviously, this was their first time in Paris, and everything was done with checks—

They insisted that there was nothing that a check couldn't handle. If it didn't work, it meant that the number on the check wasn't big enough, just add a few more zeros.

Of course, Jean-Louis didn't deny that even he felt dizzy when he saw the numbers on the check.

But this is Paris, this is the Four Seasons Hotel George V, and there are indeed some things that a check cannot handle, because every guest staying here is not to be underestimated. No one knows whether offending one guest for the sake of another might bring about an even more terrible chain reaction.

As the lobby manager, Jean-Louis had handled countless such situations.

The Eiffel Tower suite that the oil tycoon wanted was already occupied, and that was also someone he couldn't afford to offend. Jean-Louis spent some time talking, lightly shifting the focus, and successfully made the little girlfriend fall in love with the Four Seasons Suite—

In fact, the level of the Four Seasons Suite is one grade lower than the Eiffel Tower Suite, but you can still see the Eiffel Tower and feel the street scene and architecture of Paris.

"… This is the most special experience in Paris. When Brad Pitt came to Paris Fashion Week last year, he specifically chose the Four Seasons Suite," Jean-Louis said.

The tactic worked, and the little girlfriend's eyes lit up, completely forgetting about the Eiffel Tower suite and wholeheartedly wanting the Four Seasons Suite, which also brightened the tycoon's mood.

Jean-Louis personally checked them in and was originally planning to personally lead them to the suite, but he changed his mind because he caught sight of a figure.

Summoning a bellboy to escort these two passersby to the suite, he tidied up his clothes, put on a smile, and quickly greeted them.