America Tycoon: The Wolf of Showbiz

After signing the agency contract, the two returned to the workspace.

Thomas remembered something and asked, "Did you join the actors union yet?"

"Atlanta doesn't have an actors union or affiliate institutions," Martin replied succinctly, "I have never joined."

Thomas turned on his computer, searched for the works in which Martin had participated; late-night plays and "Zombie Stripper" were all non-union projects. "Sunlight at Noon of the Beautiful Mind" was a union project, but Martin had not applied for membership during the filming, so it could not be used as proof.

He said, "Los Angeles is different from Atlanta. From leading men and women to minor roles, most use union members. It's difficult for non-union members to obtain substantive roles."

Martin asked, "Can't I apply now?"

Thomas explained, "You need to have played a significant role in a project that has an agreement with the actors union, whether it's a film, series, or MTV; or to have worked continuously for 30 days. You can submit your application at any time during that working period."

Martin immediately caught the key point, "Should I secure union membership first?"

"Yes, that's the prerequisite for your further development," Thomas pondered for a moment before asking, "Did Miss Mel arrange something on her end?"

Louise's resources should be utilized at crucial moments, and Martin wouldn't use them for such a trivial matter. "Doesn't the agency have any arrangements? It shouldn't be difficult for an outstanding agent like you, right?"

Seeking job opportunities for clients is the responsibility of an agent. Thomas said, "I'll check with the agency here to see if there's a suitable opportunity."

The public resources allocated to Thomas decreased as they were used, and he had his considerations; "You should also look on your end. If you find a suitable opportunity, let me know, and I'll negotiate."

Martin emphasized, "It's best to save Miss Mel's resources for key moments."

"Alright," Thomas asked, "Do you have any other questions?"

Martin said, "I've privately been practicing the Hollywood accent. I need a professional teacher or coaching class."

Thomas searched on his computer, "Here. Inside Paramount Pictures, the teachers come from the USC School of Cinematic Arts and are highly professional. The new session starts this weekend; it's a bit pricey though, $400 per one-hour class, with a small class size of 12 people."

Martin naturally said, "Money is not an issue. Enroll me."

Thomas was momentarily taken aback. This was a task usually handled by the client's assistant.

He's an agent at a major firm, while the other person is just...

"Let it be – he's just come from Atlanta and doesn't know the rules yet." Thomas shook his head and thought to himself that this was a one-time exception. He picked up the phone and called the training class, mentioning the name of William Morris, and they agreed to reserve a spot.

Martin noted down the address and phone number, planning to go and sign up later.

Thomas looked for resources on the internal network and asked Martin, "Apart from acting, do you have any other skills?"

Martin didn't need to be modest and said directly, "Horse riding, bartending, shooting, archery, dancing, martial arts, sword fighting, driving, wire work, make-up, pyrotechnics..."

Thomas found it hard to believe since the person in front of him was too young. "Are you sure?"

Other than shooting and the recently learned dance, all the skills were the accumulation of Martin's past life; he had already evolved. "You may not know, but they call me the most versatile actor in Atlanta."

Thomas was skeptical internally but, recalling that Martin was introduced by Louise Mel, as well as the dance video online that deeply intimidated men, forced himself to believe.

He glanced at the time and realized he had spent nearly three hours on a minor actor. He hastily said, "Let's leave it at that for today. Keep your phone on. I might call you at any time."

With a polite remark, Martin left the cubicle and headed out.

Along the way, he saw many others like him.

Ordinary actor clients were naturally managed by ordinary agents.

His situation was comparatively good. Thomas had been out of the mailroom for at least a year.

Leaving William Morris, Martin drove to Paramount Pictures, whose sandy-hued archway and wrought-iron gates often appeared in films and television.

The training classes began on weekends, and for ordinary actors, the fees were steep—enrollment required paying for ten classes upfront, amounting to $4,000.

The studio offered more than language classes; they had various acting classes, some even run by stars, with staggering fees.

To emerge from hundreds of thousands of ordinary actors, the cost was by no means small.

After leaving the studio, Martin called Michel Gondry, who was busy with post-production for "Eternal Sunshine of the Beautiful Mind," set to premiere in March of the following year. It was the busiest time now.

Michel Gondry made an appointment to meet with Martin once the busy period was over.

On his way back, Martin received a call from Thomas, notifying him to go to Warner Bros. Studios for an audition with a crew at 9:30 the next morning.

"It's a minor role in a series, mostly in the background, but with a few lines," Thomas instructed, "The casting director is a client of the company, and I've spoken to him and his agent."

Martin asked, "What do I need to prepare? Is there a type for the role I'm auditioning for, or any script?"

Thomas said, "Rest well tonight, don't go out and party. Make sure you're fully energized for tomorrow. The role for the audition is an indie film director; the script isn't finished yet, so there's no character script."

Martin said, "I understand."

At moments like this, the advantages of having an agent and an agency became apparent; the actor was no longer fighting alone.

After dinner, Martin returned and made several calls, carefully considering the audition for the next day.

The next morning, as the sky began to brighten, Martin was sleeping soundly when he was abruptly awoken by a series of loud knocks on the door and someone shouting loudly.

He was disturbed and covered his head, trying to continue sleeping, but the knocking persisted.

Martin got up and instinctively reached for the gun in his bedside drawer, only to find it empty.

He was instantly alert, realizing he had left all his guns in Atlanta because of the flight.

"Jessica! Jessica!" Martin clearly heard what was being shouted.

He put on a t-shirt, grabbed his phone, entered the living room, and cracked the door open slightly. Using the light from the corridor's motion-sensor, he saw the same pockmarked face knocking on the door across the way.

Before Martin could say anything, the man turned around and glared at him fiercely, "None of your business, get lost!"

As Martin closed the door, he said, "I've called the police, they'll be here soon."

With a bang, he shut the door tightly, engaged the safety lock, and moved away from the entrance.

Following Bruce, Martin had learned quite a few home defense tips.

"Fuck!" cursed the pockmarked face, who swiftly left.

When Martin heard no more noise outside, he opened a sliver of the door and saw landlord Antonio rolling into the hallway with a shotgun, as if in slow motion, from the stairwell.

"Damn it, don't you dare leave!" Antonio's chubby face quivered as he shouted down the stairs, "Come back and cause trouble again, and I'll blow your head off downstairs."

Martin opened the door and called out as a precaution, "It's me, Martin."

Antonio responded, "Relax, this is the Friendship Gun, doesn't shoot friends."

This commotion had woken many tenants who came out to see what was happening.

Martin approached Antonio and said, "You were too slow, the guy's already gone."

"Can't help it." Antonio wouldn't have come out if the man hadn't left. He spoke between heavy breaths, "I had to get up from bed, get dressed, and find the gun, all that takes time."

At that moment, the door across the corridor opened, and a blonde woman came out, patting her trembling chest, "That scared me to death."

Antonio pointed his gun at the woman and asked, "You don't know him?"

The woman quickly sidestepped, "I don't know him, he was looking for Jessica. As you know, Jessica moved out half a month ago."

From the other side of the same floor, a male tenant with glasses suggested, "Antonio, we need a security gate on the first floor; crime in Los Angeles is getting too bad."

"Do you know how much it costs to add a gate? Are you paying for it?" Antonio looked around at the other tenants, "Or should it come out of all your pockets?"

When money was mentioned, no one spoke.

Antonio had finally caught his breath, his belly no longer rapidly heaving, "These things only happen occasionally, that tenant has already left. This is a busy area of North Hollywood, the LAPD patrol here often enough."

Another person commented, "You trust those idiots? A few years ago, right here, two people had those good-for-nothings rolling on the floor."

Antonio waved his hand dismissively, "Alright, alright, go back to bed."

It was still early, and the crowd gradually dispersed.

Antonio, holding his Friendship Gun, briskly made his way back to the third floor.

His pace was more than twice as fast as when he had arrived.

As Martin was about to return to his room, the blonde woman in a long nightgown suddenly said, "Thank you for scaring him off."

"Don't mention it," Martin replied casually, "He woke me up."

"I'm Emily." After introducing herself, the blonde woman asked, "Are you new here?"

Martin politely responded, "Martin Davis, just moved in this morning."

Emily took a good look at him and said again, "Thanks."

Martin briefly assessed her, noting her short stature, hardly more than 5 feet 3 inches, and he nodded, "You're welcome."

After Martin retreated to his room, Emily went back to hers, took out her phone, and dialed a number, "Jessie, stop causing such a fuss! Tell me, who have you provoked? They came looking today, and it scared me half to death!"

The other person replied, "I had an audition some time ago and had a conflict with someone, sorry. I'll settle it in a few days, it's just a matter of compensating, I'll have the money soon."

After sharing the place for a long time, Emily said a few words of caution and hung up the phone.

At eight in the morning, Martin left on time, had a light breakfast at a nearby restaurant, drove near Burbank, found a quiet place to clear his mind, and then, when the time was almost right, he headed to Warner Bros. Studios to the office area where the crew was based to attend the casting call.

Thomas had already signed him up, and Martin found the audition room according to the map.

In front of the audition room, on two long benches, sat more than a dozen people.

Martin found an empty seat and sat down, waiting patiently.

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