I’m in Hollywood Chapter 60

After leaving Lisa Cody and Brad Pitt, the two lovers were in no hurry to go back. Jenny held onto Eric's arm as they took a stroll on the bustling streets of New York at night.

After a while of being silent, Jenny couldn't help but say: "Eric, I think you've overdone it."

"Huh ?"

"It wasn't easy for Brad Pitt to get that role."

Eric reached out and squeezed the girl's lovely face: "For even you to stand up for him, seems like the guy is really smooth, huh ? Guess I did the right thing then."

"I just feel like he isn't all that bad." Jenny glared at Eric as she rubbed her cheeks.

"You know Mike Tyson, right ?"

Jenny nodded at Eric's abrupt change of subject, she said: "I do, I heard about his messy divorce with Robin Givens."

"What you don't know is that Brad Pitt dated Robin Givens before Tyson, but still kept in touch. Then one day the boxer finds them both in bed together, he was so mad he nearly killed the guy. That's part of the reason why Tyson divorced his wife."

Jenny's eyes instantly widened, "No way ! You're kidding me, right ?!"

"Why would I do that ?" Eric said as he spread his arms and shrugged.

Jenny asked, puzzled: "How do you know all that ?"

Eric said: "Rumors spread fast in this circle, but since Pitt's fame can't be compared to Tyson's, even gossip magazines can't be bothered to look him up, so they're just aware that it was the fault of an 'unknown actor' instead."

As Eric recalled, this would actually not be discussed until years later when Mike Tyson had revealed the truth of the affair during an interview.

He suddenly thought of something interesting, it really seemed like Brad Pitt had some of the worst timings ever. He was caught by Tyson sleeping with the latter's wife, then he was caught by Jenny sleeping with with Angelina Jolie, and even caught by Angelina Jolie with his personal a.s.sistant, resulting in Brangelina's wedding getting delayed at the time.

"So you see," Eric patted Jenny's head and earnestly said: "Clothes don't make the man, it's better for you to stay away from him."

Jenny nodded, then resentfully looked up and glared at Eric: "Ha, that's grand, clothes don't make the man indeed ! Who knows how many other women you're hiding besides that group of actresses that went to your home and was featured in the tabloids, and that girl who came out of your house wearing your s.h.i.+rt…. And you still have the galls to bulls.h.i.+t me with your sophistry !"

"Alright Jenny." Eric quickly pulled the girl in his embrace, "I plead guilty."

"You're such a jerk !" Jenny hammered his chest a few times.

Eric nodded: "Yes, yes, I am."

Jenny quieted down after a while, and stuck her ear to her boyfriend's chest, listening to his heartbeat. The two of them just motionlessly hugged while people around them busied themselves, it was particularly heartwarming.

A pa.s.sing photographer found the scene really moving, and couldn't help but press the shutter and immortalize this moment. Eric and Jenny were completely clueless about this event.

Near Christmas, the same photographer developed the photo. The girl was wearing a white jacket, her arms holding her boyfriend's waist, and the guy wearing a black windbreaker, tightly hugging the girl back, his chin compliantly nuzzled between the girl's nape and her beautiful blonde hair. One white and one black, both warm and cold in the midst of the blur of pedestrians weaving past them, like two lovers on an abandoned island. Coupled with the brightly-lit city in the background, it was romantic to a tee.

Feeling very satisfied with his own work, the photographer send it to a New York magazine. Someone with sharp eyesight received it and directly submitted it to the editor in chief.

The next day, the photo of young prodigy Eric Williams embracing his girlfriend in the streets of New York appeared on the magazine's front page. It was accompanied by an article that filled half a page, and eloquently narrated how the young director had temporarily dropped everything and made the trip to New York in order to reunite with his true love, and how the two of them had miraculously met on the streets of the city and fallen into one another's embrace.

Those who weren't stupid knew that the article was complete bull, however, it had been written with such flair that the majority couldn't help but relish in the story, leading to the magazine's sales shooting through the roof.

Meanwhile, Eric, who had mysteriously disappeared from L.A to suddenly appear in New York, attracted the paparazzi's attention. They wouldn't believe that the reason he came was for 'true love', even if you beat them. And so Eric became the focus of their relentless chase, once again.

He had already finalized the deal with Al Pacino, so he stayed at Jenny's apartment in order to keep the paps at bay. Like a bunch of hyenas, they were staying in front of his girlfriend's place, waiting for their prey to emerge.

Jenny had also become a target, so in order to avoid unnecessary troubles and at Eric's insistence, the girl bought a used car instead of going back and forth to the studio by either bus or cab. And of course, the stubborn la.s.s wouldn't let Eric pitch a single penny in.

After a tense few days of shoot, Jenny and her crew were finally ushered in their long awaited two week vacation.

…..

At Jenny's place, it was unknown how many times the girl had picked up the magazine and read the article. With a feigned expression of anger, she complained to her boyfriend who was sitting by the window, using a typewriting machine: "Thanks to you I can't even take a stroll in New York without a legion of paparazzi following behind."

Eric finished writing his line before turning around and smiling, "Why are you complaining when you're obviously enjoying it ? That photo alone makes for a great love story."

"Eric, have you contacted the magazine yet ?"

Eric nodded: "Yeah, the photo was taken by an amateur photographer who happened into us by chance. He wanted his work to be featured in their photography segment and send it to them. The photo was then noticed by a sharp-eyed reviewer who recognized us." Eric took out an envelope and handed it over to Jenny: "This is the negative, it cost me 1,000 $, but it was worth it. The photo is honestly beautiful."

Jenny took the envelope, carefully pulled out the negative, and after warmly looking at it, gently put it away.

"One more thing Jen, although that article was nonsense, it made me think of a good script. Here, I've modified it to suit our story. I figured you could be the lead, wanna take a look ?"

Jenny walked next to him and began to read the ma.n.u.script that Eric handed over to her. Once she was finished, she gave it back to him and wrinkled her nose: "Besides their coincidental meeting at the end, I don't see how this resembles our relations.h.i.+p."

Eric shrugged: "Art needs to be processed. So, how about it ?"

Jenny hesitated a moment, before shaking her head: "The heroine is older than me, and I'm not ready to star in one of your movies yet."

Eric didn't insist, the girl would one day naturally come around.

Although Christmas was coming soon, Eric didn't feel too deeply about it. In his past life, even during his youth, he wasn't interested in foreign festivities. Now, as a middle-aged man, he still felt the same way.

Kapoor had returned to Los Angeles and Al Pacino was busy with his own life. Eric hadn't seen the actor since they had struck a deal, but the two of them discussed about Pretty Woman's script over the phone every day.

Jenny was very satisfied with having Eric all to herself for Christmas. The two lovers bought a tree and decorations, as well as a turkey that they cooked together. They didn't go out on Christmas Eve, choosing to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie instead.

After Christmas, Eric had to return to Los Angeles. The shooting of Pretty Woman wouldn't start until after the holidays, but he was the director and had a lot to prepare for.

Although reluctantly, Jenny drove her boyfriend to the airport, and gazed at the plane until it disappeared in the horizon, before finally heading back home.

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