Rookie Assistant

Standing by the baggage carousel in the airport terminal, Renly picked up his luggage and greeted Felicity, Drake, and the others. "I'll head off now. See you tomorrow at eight a.m.? At the studio?"

Drake nodded affirmatively and pointed to his throat, as if to say, "I have a lot to say, but I can't speak." This made Renly laugh. He waved to everyone and then turned to leave.

After getting off the plane, Renly saw a text message from Andy, stating that someone had been sent to the airport to pick him up. He was advised not to leave with the crew but to depart alone discreetly without drawing unnecessary attention.

Renly adjusted the baseball cap on his head, calmly weaving through the crowd. Wearing a white T-shirt, dark blue ripped jeans, and black Nike running shoes, he carried a light blue denim jacket. He didn't go out of his way to hide, nor did he strut confidently. He simply looked like an ordinary college student.

Renly believed that the effects of Toronto and Telluride were still simmering, and in Los Angeles, the hub of actors, people were used to seeing actors come and go. Not many people could recognize him yet. However, since Andy had instructed him, there must have been a reason, so Renly chose to cover up a bit.

Renly wasn't very experienced with handling enthusiastic fans, but he knew that wearing a cap and sunglasses, or overly dramatic disguises, would only draw more attention. Blending in as a normal person without drawing stares was the safest. After all, true concealment is in plain sight.

He scanned the crowd leisurely, looking for his contact. Surprisingly, he didn't see anyone holding a sign with his name on it but noticed many hotel signs picking up tour groups, many with Asian faces. Could it be that his pick-up person hadn't arrived yet?

Renly stopped, carefully observing the crowd again. Then he saw a somewhat familiar back, a chubby side profile resembling a perfectly risen bun, wearing a slightly loose dark blue shirt hinting at his chubby figure. His round eyebrows gave him a kindly, scholarly look, reminiscent of a bookish, sociable high school student. He was struggling with a sandwich, trying to peel off the packaging while holding a stack of papers under his arm, making a mess with the mayonnaise.

"Do you need help?" Renly approached and asked kindly.

"Oh, no, I'm fine, thank you. I mean, I appreciate it, but I..." he stammered, words tumbling out, filled with friendly gratitude. He fumbled with everything, and the papers slipped from his arm. Renly smoothly caught them. "Thank you, thank you. I'm so clumsy, oh dear!"

The mayonnaise finally succumbed to gravity, eliciting a groan from him, but he quickly refocused. "Sorry, sorry to trouble you. I'll handle this, don't worry, I'll clean it up." He looked up, reaching to take the papers, only to see Renly turn them around to show the side with his name.

"I believe this name belongs to me."

Nathan Press froze for a moment, then quickly looked up to see Renly's handsome face. He groaned, this was a disaster. "Mr. Hall, I..."

"If I remember correctly, this is our second meeting, Nathan Press?" Renly took the napkin from Nathan's hand, wiping the mayonnaise, indicating the papers in his hand. Glancing around, he noticed no one was paying attention to their little mishap amidst the bustling terminal. "So, you're working for Andy Rogers now? Last time, I remember you got fired by Fisher, right?"

Nathan, formerly Fisher Morgan's assistant at William Morris Agency, had picked up Renly from LAX a month and a half ago, leading him to a meeting with Fisher. Renly turned down Fisher, who then fired Nathan.

Unexpectedly, they were meeting again at the airport for a pickup.

"Yes, yes," Nathan stammered, overwhelmed. Renly not only remembered their meeting but also his name, something incredible for Nathan. Fisher took ten days to remember his name.

"I mean, I got a job at Creative Artists Agency and was assigned to Mr. Rogers." Nathan explained concisely, "Oh my, work, work, I'm here to pick you up!" Nathan realized, lowering his voice to a whisper, trying not to attract attention.

His exaggerated gesture seemed odd, making Renly chuckle. He raised the paper with his name, indicating he understood.

Nathan laughed sheepishly, paused for two seconds, then said, "The car is in the nearby parking lot. We can't park here, so we need to walk over, about five minutes." He looked around for Renly's luggage, then remembered the sandwich in his hand.

Nathan hurried to a trash can, threw the sandwich away, wiped his hands, and rushed back to take Renly's luggage. "This way, please." Leading the way, his clumsy manner was reminiscent of their first meeting, making Renly laugh.

"Sorry for the earlier mess," Nathan apologized. He knew he had been unprofessional, nearly missing the pickup.

It was his lunch, and he was trying to grab a quick bite due to low blood sugar before Renly arrived. But getting bumped had thrown him off balance.

But Nathan didn't explain. Fisher hated explanations, considering them excuses for failure.

"It seems I interrupted your lunch," Renly noted. The plane arrived ten minutes early, and his luggage came out faster than expected—Felicity and Drake were still waiting. Unexpected situations couldn't be predicted. "Where are we headed? If time permits, we can stop for some fries and burgers."

In the car-centric U.S., roadside drive-throughs for quick meals were common.

Nathan glanced at Renly, seeing his smiling face, reminding him of their first encounter. If not for Renly, he might have been left stranded on the highway, clueless.

"West Hollywood," Nathan replied, reaching the parking lot and locating their ride, a black SUV, a common sight in LA, showing Andy's caution.

Nathan fumbled, unsure of the next step. Renly kindly suggested, "You should put the luggage by the rear door, open the passenger door for me, then handle the luggage after I get in. If it were a hotel, the driver handles the car, the doorman the door, and the rest is your job."

Renly had seen Philip do this countless times, knowing it well.

"Oh, right." Nathan followed the instructions, moving smoothly.

Nathan's actions were cautious and focused. Though inexperienced and clumsy, he adapted quickly with guidance, indicating he was recently out of college despite his thirtyish appearance.

This matched Renly's initial impression. Unfortunately, Hollywood's fierce competition left no room for nurturing. Top agents like Fisher had no time for gradual training; mistakes led to immediate dismissal.

In the '70s, William Morris Agency ruled Hollywood, setting industry standards. Before becoming an agent, everyone had to work in the mailroom for three to six months or even a year, a strict hierarchy ensuring proficient agents and assistants.

But it also stifled young talent, creating rigid structures and conflicts. Five young agents, frustrated with William Morris' rigidity, left to start their agency, Creative Artists Agency.

Gains in rapid growth came at the cost of foundational skill-building patience.

Nathan, now in the driver's seat, confirmed Renly's seatbelt and started the engine. "We're headed to West Hollywood. Andy rented a place for you, convenient for your upcoming shoots."

"Oh? Why not stay in a hotel?" Renly raised an eyebrow, curious.