Outside, the sky had turned pitch black, but inside, the room was ablaze with light and filled with cheerful laughter.
Harris finished his Christo sandwich, tossed a can of beer to Martin, and with one hand cracking open another, exclaimed loudly, "Martin, my admiration for you has skyrocketed from zero to ninety percent!"
Elena approached with a plate, sitting beside Martin and lifting a piece of oxtail, "A reward for you."
Martin took a bite of the meat, opened his beer, and raised it, declaring, "To the misfits, a toast!"
"Cheers!"
Lily and Hall, those two fools, also raised their cans of cola.
The day's bounty had brought true joy.
This joy was so pure it tempted Lily and Hall to reach for the beer.
Elena glanced over, and Lily, shrinking her neck, said, "It wasn't me; it was Hall who dragged my hand!"
Hall, unwilling to back down, retorted, "It was you who encouraged me to grab it!"
Martin tapped an empty can, "You two idiots better not ruin my good mood, or I’ll toss you out to sleep on the streets."
"Considering you're treating us," Lily said, her straw making a buzzing noise, "I'll stop bickering with Hall."
Martin stood up and said, "Alright, I’ll mix you a drink suitable for ladies."
Elena, puzzled, asked, "Since when did you become a bartender, you fool?"
Martin grabbed a can of sweet beer and moved to the open kitchen, rummaging as he spoke, "Old Jack Davis is the most versatile man in Northeast Marietta. Do you think he won your mother with nothing but charm?"
Harris quietly slipped behind the sofa and deliberately said to Elena, "Jack Davis’s son is almost certainly a jackass."
Lily, overhearing, chimed in, "Scott and Jack are both jackasses, and so is Martin—a perfect legacy!"
With a thud, Elena’s fist landed on Lily’s face. Lily covered her nose, silencing her.
In the kitchen, lacking professional tools, Martin had to make do with a few substitutes. Without a cocktail shaker, he used Lily’s school water jug.
Jack Davis was indeed talented, but Martin Davis hadn’t learned bartending from him.
This was something Martin had specifically studied when vying for a role as a bartender in his spare time.
At that time, Martin enjoyed his drinks and had practiced diligently.
He poured half a bottle of sweet beer, added sugar, salt, cola, and baking soda, cracked an egg, added egg whites, squeezed in some lemon juice, and shook it all together.
He took two glasses and placed them on the table cluttered with food wrappers, opened the jug, and poured the contents into the glasses, "Foam Beauty, enjoy."
The drink in the glasses was thick with foam.
Elena took a glass and carefully took a sip, "The taste is a bit strange."
Lily, quick to act, snatched the other glass and took a strong whiff, "It's disgusting…"
Martin slapped Lily on the top of her head, "Fool, control your mouth."
Harris took Lily’s glass and enjoyed it alone, "Have you learned anything else we don’t know about?"
Martin replied, "I’m also quite skilled at horseback riding."
Lily couldn’t resist, "I know…"
With a steely gaze directed at her, Lily fell silent.
Martin had only been a stuntman who knew how to ride horses.
Elena finished her Foam Beauty, remembered something, and handed Martin a packaged disc, "The copied video."
Harris asked, "Is it still useful?"
Martin took it aside, mumbling, "Even if that fool quits tomorrow, his drug tests will remain positive for a long time."
The others were clueless, ignoring this and focusing on eating and drinking.
Elena, having had her fill, asked, "You’re not planning to run off with the money like Jack, are you?"
Martin opened another can of beer, "With just this amount of money, running off to an unfamiliar place will make things even harder once it’s spent."
There was truth and falsehood in this statement, as Martin had indeed considered fleeing, but whether to do so would depend on the situation.
Elena settled back on the couch, "I’ll allow you to delay paying rent, but first, pay off part of your high-interest loan. I’ve heard Vincent, the Beast House owner, is quite a difficult person."
She then asked, "Have you considered a new job?"
Martin had indeed considered it, "Doing what I’m best at…"
The evening grew late, and Harris, exhausted from the day's activities, dragged Hall back to their room.
Elena began tidying up the trash on the floor, bending over with her back to Martin to pick up the napkins scattered by Hall.
……
In the morning, Martin slept alone on the long sofa.
The Carter house was small, with only two bedrooms—one for Elena and Lily, and the other for Harris and Hall.
Martin couldn’t share a room with Elena and Lily, so he had decided to sleep on the long sofa instead of returning to the adjacent room.
Half asleep, Martin again pondered what he was best at.
What was he best at? Acting and related skills, primarily maneuvering within the entertainment industry.
In his previous life, he was infatuated with the idea of becoming the next big thing, wasting many precious years on this dream.
In terms of acting, despite coming from an unconventional background, his dedication had earned him praise from seasoned actors who had trained formally.
Acting relies heavily on talent, and Martin had a good amount of it in his previous life, but success in the entertainment industry is not determined solely by talent and skill.
Martin had long lost his naïveté and had a clear understanding of himself.
The previous Martin Davis was almost at the bottom of the social ladder, with negligible connections, negative assets, and incomplete education.
Martin knew that to develop in the future, it was best to work in a field he excelled at.
The Hollywood film industry is just as challenging; for the impoverished, aside from zero-cost entry or joining a gang as cannon fodder, it’s hard to find success in other fields.
Martin’s short-term goal became clear: adapt to American society, stay informed about the film industry, and save up to seek opportunities in Los Angeles or New York.
Atlanta could serve as a starting point, as by around 2015 in his previous life, it had become the third-largest film production hub in the U.S., after Los Angeles and New York.
Opportunities are crucial; often, they are more important than talent.
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