Hollywood Director 1992

"Link! Link!"

"Link, look here! Look here!"

In the afternoon, Link drove back to his apartment in West Hollywood. As soon as he parked, shouts came from the surrounding apartment buildings, from both men and women.

The first few times he heard the shouts, he would stop and wave politely, but after being disturbed so many times, he no longer had the time to pay attention.

"Hey, Link, when are you shooting your next movie? Can you arrange a few small roles for us?"

This book is first published on 𝕥 𝕨 𝕜 𝕒 𝕟 . 𝕔 𝕠 𝕞.

As he walked into apartment 13, he encountered Eric with the tattooed arms and seven or eight others, men and women.

"The next movie isn't confirmed yet. If I need actors, I'll consider you guys first."

"Thank you! Thank you, Link! How about going to the bar for a drink? A lot of people around here want to meet you."

"I just got back from the bar. Not going today."

Link waved his hand, said goodbye to the group, and went upstairs.

"Tsk, tsk, did you see that? That's the great director Link, who made millions from a movie shot with $20,000."

Eric with the tattooed arms watched Link's back as he went upstairs, clicking his tongue and looking envious.

"So handsome. I wonder if he has a girlfriend?"

Several women said, gazing in the direction he left.

"Don't even think about it. A few days ago, a group of women came here to wait for him, wanting to sleep with him. Link called the police directly."

"Too bad."

"It doesn't matter. Isn't there still me? Two great directors have appeared in our apartment complex this year. Maybe there will be a third, a fourth. I've decided, I'm going to find a school to learn filmmaking tomorrow. I'm going to be a great director too."

Eric with the tattooed arms waved his arms and led the restless group of men and women away.

When Link returned to his apartment to tidy up, Chris Bauer came over for a visit, still wearing a vest and shorts, showing off his muscles.

"Link, are you planning to move?"

"Yes, it's not convenient living here. I'll be moving in a couple of days."

"That's right. You're a millionaire now, you can afford a mansion."

"Didn't buy a mansion. It's a small apartment, not much bigger than this place. You can come over and take a look when you have time."

"Alright!"

Chris Bauer crossed his arms and paced around the living room.

Link continued to tidy up. After moving in more than six months ago, he had been busy making money and shooting movies, and hadn't bought much furniture.

The most valuable things in the room were some books, including directing books, bestsellers, film magazines, script copies, etc. Not much else.

"Link, are you going to continue directing?"

Chris Bauer stopped after pacing around a few times.

"Of course. Directing is my main job."

"Can I work for you?"

"I don't shoot action movies."

"It doesn't matter. I won't be an actor. I can do other work. When we were filming 'Buried,' I managed the props, the sound equipment, helped with the lighting. I did a good job, didn't I?"

"Alright, you were pretty good. I've registered a film studio and I'm currently hiring, mainly technical talent. You can go there for a period of training first, and then join the crew when my movie starts shooting."

"Okay, it's settled then, Link, thank you!"

Chris Bauer excitedly hugged him.

Link waved his hand and saw Chris Bauer off.

Chris Bauer had indeed helped a lot during the filming of "Buried," otherwise he wouldn't have been able to manage it alone.

After the movie was a big hit, he gave Chris Bauer $20,000 as a belated salary.

Now he was having Chris Bauer go to the company to clock in and work first, to see if he could adapt to this kind of life. If he couldn't adapt, there was no way he could take him along.

After tidying up two boxes, Link rubbed his lower back and picked up the water glass on the table, taking a few sips of warm water.

The sun was setting outside the window, and the apartment building opposite was dyed orange, looking beautiful, but it couldn't hide the gradually dilapidated walls and the garbage blowing in the wind.

Compared to the bustling Beverly Hills, there seemed to be nothing worth staying for here.

Knock, knock, knock!

There was a knock on the door.

Chris Bauer had just left, so whoever was knocking now must be an uninvited guest.

He had encountered this more than once these days.

Link didn't want to pay attention.

"Is Director Link there? It's Monica."

The person outside said softly.

It was the voice of Monica Bellucci.

Link walked over and opened the door. Monica Bellucci stood at the entrance.

She probably had just taken a shower, and the scent of shower gel and perfume permeated the air.

She was wearing a light red deep V-neck dress, with a thin belt around her waist, her chest curves full and voluptuous, her hips pushing out a rounded peach shape, and a pair of slender, rounded beautiful legs were faintly visible under the hem of the dress.

Without exception, every line is a masterpiece! (This is a saying in Chinese, meaning she's perfect from head to toe)

Monica had carefully put on makeup before coming, and the black eyeliner made her eyes appear large and bright, her red lips were full and moist, and her appearance was even more gorgeous than the previous two times he had seen her.

Monica Bellucci was a beauty in her own right, and at twenty-eight years old this year, it was also the best period of her appearance and figure.

In addition, the expression on her face was not as aloof and indifferent as when they had met before, but became lively and vivid, bright and beautiful like a blooming red rose.

"Good afternoon, Monica."

"Good afternoon, Director Link. Are you busy? I have a bottle of Italian red wine here. Would you like to try it together?"

Monica Bellucci raised her hand, holding a bottle of red wine with an Italian label.

"Good idea, please come in!"

After Monica came in, Link closed the door.

"Director Link, are you planning to move?"

Monica Bellucci asked, looking at the boxes in the living room.

"Yes, I bought a small apartment in Beverly Hills, at 108 Wilshire Boulevard."

"Congratulations to you. You're really amazing to be able to make such a great movie like 'Buried.'"

"Good luck!"

Link's apartment didn't have wine glasses, so he took two glass cups, placed them on the low table, poured two glasses of red wine, and sat down face to face with Monica Bellucci.

The air was filled not only with the woman's perfume, but also with the rich aroma of red wine.

"This is a wine from the Toscana Mamma Jolanda winery. How do you like it?"

Monica Bellucci took a sip of red wine, and her full red lips became moist.

"The taste is good, and the aroma is very mellow, but I rarely drink red wine, and I don't know much about it."

"Chinese people like to drink baijiu, right? I've had baijiu, it's in those small porcelain bottles, the taste is spicy, feels good."

"That's Japanese sake, which is similar to baijiu."

Link leaned against the sofa, crossed his legs, and chatted with Monica Bellucci opposite him.

Monica Bellucci drank half a glass of red wine, and her cheeks gradually turned reddish, and her brown pupils were slightly shining.

"Link, now that the promotion for 'Buried' is over, when are you shooting the new movie you mentioned last time?"

"Planned for next month."

"Next month? Last time you said there was a role suitable for me, is that true?"

"Yes, the next movie needs a female lead, but I'm not sure if you can handle it?"

Link brazenly sized up her cheeks, her fair neck, the slope of her chest, and half of her calves.

"Director Link, I've filmed more than a dozen film and television dramas in Italy before, and I also gained some experience in the 'Bram Stoker's Dracula' crew. You can try my acting."

Monica Bellucci's emotions seemed excited, the undulation of her chest became larger, and she seemed relatively nervous. Clearly, she valued this opportunity very much.