From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Harry had always believed that Anson was abnormal.

Not because he was an amateur, nor because he was a rookie, but because Anson always played by his own rules, and no one could understand Anson's thought process; a moment's carelessness could get you caught in Anson's vortex.

So, even if he was defeated in front of Anson, there was nothing shameful about it… right?

Taking a deep breath, and then another, Harry barely managed to control himself.

"Why?"

"Why do you need to make a deal with me?"

Harry tried to take the initiative, refusing to follow Anson's rules. He thought Anson wouldn't answer directly, but would bounce back with another question. To his surprise, Anson broke the pattern again.

"Because I plan to use you to deal with other paparazzi."

He actually… answered—

But, is such an answer really okay?

Harry was speechless. "Are you openly treating me as a tool?"

"Yes," Anson said with a smile.

Harry: …

Anson: "If you want to swear, you can."

The curse was already on the tip of his tongue, but Harry swallowed it back. Looking at Anson's eyes, he just didn't want to obey obediently.

Anson: "Instead of saying those high-sounding words, why not be more frank? You use me, I use you, we use each other, isn't that great? Sometimes, when the benefits are laid bare on the table, things become simpler. Or would you rather I stab you in the back?"

Harry glanced at Anson, dejected—

He said everything, good and bad, what else could he do? He would rather stab someone in the back secretly, but he didn't have the confidence to outsmart Anson.

So, what to do?

Thoughts raced through his brain, all the memory was working.

Harry: … Huh?

Question marks almost overflowed. Harry finally picked the most crucial one. "What's in it for me?"

Anson started counting on his fingers.

"First, you know where I'm going."

"Second, you can play with the entire Hollywood media."

"Third, to ensure authenticity, my agent will give you some exclusive photos to make sure people's eyes stay on TMZ."

"Finally, and most importantly, after everything is over, TMZ is allowed to report exclusively. You can reveal the whole disappearing act."

"Wow."

"Honestly, I think it's a worthwhile deal."

Harry crossed his arms, adopting a defensive posture—

He knew it was a bargain, far beyond imagination, so much so that it felt unreal.

But precisely because of this, Harry became more vigilant:

There is no free lunch.

"But, why?"

In fact, the reason is not complicated.

Anson could disappear quietly, but this time it should be very difficult.

He could sneak away overnight, shake off his tail, and drive from Los Angeles to Portland, but in doing so, the paparazzi would likely notice his disappearance within a few hours, and then cause another uproar—

Inside and out, digging three feet into the ground, the paparazzi would definitely look for his existence with great fanfare.

Although this is not the era of social networks, and there is no need to worry about smartphones that may appear anytime, anywhere; if the paparazzi make such a big commotion, I am afraid it will become the focus of gossip tabloids, and then trigger discussions.

At that time, even if Anson hid in the suburbs of Portland, he would not be able to live in peace.

Anson's whereabouts being exposed is one thing; the filming of "Elephant" being interfered with is another, and it is also the situation Anson least wants to see.

So, the best way is not for him to disappear secretly, but to seize the opportunity of TMZ, and let Harry and Edgar cooperate to create a false image—

Deceive the heavens and cross the sea.

Things just got interesting.

According to Anson's memory, TMZ didn't appear until 2005 in his previous life. It rose strongly because of continuous breaking news and successive confirmations, and became an authority among gossip media in just a few years.

And now, because of Anson's little butterfly, TMZ's debut is three full years earlier, and it is still created by a face he knows.

History is indeed an interesting thing.

In Anson's view, whether paparazzi or reporters, the difference in the wave of the Internet is getting smaller and smaller. They are all involved in the storm of entertainment to death and the ocean of fake news. The so-called professionalism and position have long been redefined.

Therefore, Anson has no burden and no need to refuse cooperation with paparazzi.

Simply put, each takes what he needs.

Paparazzi need a constant stream of exclusives, while Anson needs to eliminate interference for a period of time and devote himself wholeheartedly to the filming of his works.

However, this time, Anson is not going to answer Harry—

He was never a good boy.

"Because I want to do this."

Throwing out a straightforward sentence, Harry was caught off guard.

A smile appeared in Anson's eyes, and he threw out the trump card unhurriedly.

"TMZ, this is the website you built, right?"

"You need traffic and exclusives now. If I disappear quietly…"

Harry retorted, "All the paparazzi in Los Angeles will take action."

Anson nodded slightly, "Yes, that's true, but whether they can find me or not, TMZ will have no chance for an exclusive anyway."

Harry: … Damn.

A smile appeared in Anson's eyes, "So, if you cooperate in the performance, you can not only get a series of news updates, but also get a major exclusive."

Although Anson was smiling, Harry felt like he was a prey, stepping into a trap step by step.

Harry tried to stay awake, "Then what about you? What can you get from this deal?"

A clean filming location, an undisturbed filming schedule, and an "Elephant".

But Anson wasn't going to answer, "Each takes what he needs. You get what you need, and I get what I need, so there's no need to ask in detail."

Harry didn't fall for it, "What if the exclusive you're hiding is far beyond imagination?"

"Ha," Anson laughed heartily, "Then you can only gamble, right?"

Harry was about to say something, but Anson shook his head, "No more questions allowed."

"Tick tock, time is limited."

"Now it depends on whether you are willing to sign a contract with the devil."

As he spoke, Anson was already backing away.

A tug-of-war began in Harry's heart. Angels and demons were pulling on his left and right shoulders. Should he believe Anson? Or should he agree on the surface, stab Anson in the back, and secretly inquire about the real exclusive?

Deception is essential in war, right?

However, as soon as the thought emerged, Harry noticed Anson's eyes, a half-smile on his face, falling on him, able to see through his mind at a glance. That sense of nakedness made Harry shiver.

Thinking of this, Harry already had an idea—

"Okay."

As soon as the words came out, emotions of regret and excitement, stimulation and anxiety surged at the same time. So this is what it feels like to make a deal with the devil?