Chapter 190: The Terrifying Wax Museum, I'm Good at Everything

"Go ahead, tell me where we agreed to go?"

Martin joked as he walked toward the girls.

"How about we go see Britney? She's filming an MTV in Malibu today!"

"No~!"

Lindsay's suggestion was immediately rejected by Jessica and Scarlett, even though Jessica and Britney were on good terms.

A date for four people was already "crowded," and there was no need to add someone else.

"Let's go to my place, and I'll cook you all dinner," Martin proposed.

"Beverly Hills?"

"That's right!"

"Agreed!"

"Okay!"

"Yay!"

At Martin's mansion in Beverly Hills, he made a lavish dinner for the girls.

"This lobster is amazing!"

"Martin, you can cook Filipino food? What's this dish called, Adobo?"

"I like this cold tomato salad, it's so sweet and delicious!"

After dinner, the four of them squeezed onto the sofa to watch TV.

Jessica and Lindsay took the spots on either side, while Scarlett simply sat behind Martin, leaning on his back.

The girls all tried to get as close to Martin as possible.

On the screen, Martin's first movie, The Odd Couple, was playing.

"Hehehe, Martin, you were so little back then, so cute!" Scarlett giggled, shaking her body and rubbing Martin's ear.

Martin was deeply moved—this little girl hadn't grown taller but certainly "grew" in other ways.

"I actually met Martin through this movie," Jessica said excitedly. "Look, that's me, the summer camp girl."

"Martin used to visit school often and tell us stories on the school bus. He would sit next to me," Lindsay said nostalgically.

After the movie finished, Martin and the girls went to take a bath.

Don't get it wrong; they washed separately since there were enough bathrooms in the house.

The three girls chattered in the bathroom, seemingly plotting something.

Later that night, Martin was stealthily attacked in his bedroom.

Groggily waking up, he felt the blanket being lifted, someone sneaking in, and then...

This happened three times.

The next morning, Martin opened his eyes to see three girls lying in his bed. He laughed.

Time passed into November.

The Matrix was nearly done filming. Though it was shot as three movies in one go, the process was going quickly due to Martin's script being followed strictly.

On November 1st, Martin took a day off from the set.

Because that was the premiere day of Paris Hilton's first film, The Wax Museum.

Paris excitedly stuttered when inviting Martin over the phone.

Under the fading sunlight, the cool sea breeze swept over Los Angeles, driving away the lingering afternoon heat.

Outside the Hollywood Chinese Theatre, the normally crowded Walk of Fame was now filled with elegantly dressed men and women, and, of course, the ubiquitous photographers.

"Mel Gibson, Bruce Willis, Demi Moore, Julia Roberts... Wow, this Hilton princess really knows everyone in Hollywood!"

"No surprise, she's a Hilton, even Martin wrote a script for her."

The cameraman clicked away as he told a female reporter beside him, "But knowing people is one thing, how's the movie going to be? This is Paris's first movie, and she's the lead! Plus, it's premiering on the same day as Wes Craven's Dracula 2000—that's not exactly a smart move."

"Please, this is a movie written by Martin, and it's a horror film, his specialty. As long as the script is followed, it'll be fine. And it's not The Wax Museum that chose to release the same day as Dracula 2000; Dracula 2000 picked that day."

"Besides, so what if Wes Craven is a master of horror? He only produced Dracula 2000, he didn't direct it. And Martin's track record in horror isn't any worse than his."

It was clear that this reporter was a fan of Martin.

In an office at Miramax, Bob Weinstein frowned. "Harvey, are we being a little too rash releasing Dracula 2000 on the same day as The Wax Museum? After all, it's a Martin script..."

"Don't worry, Bob, you know Wes Craven's level. He's never missed in the horror genre. I've seen the script of The Wax Museum—it's not really Martin's psychological horror style; it's just a traditional American-style horror film. I don't believe he can do it all."

Harvey Weinstein puffed on his cigar, speaking confidently.

Bob's frown deepened; he felt Harvey was a bit deluded, as if he were trying to prove that he could succeed without Martin, even stepping on Martin's success to do so.

But could they succeed?

Bob wasn't so sure. The movie was ultimately about the box office, and Martin's track record at the box office was stellar.

He shook his head slightly and said, "The folks at Empire just called, asking why we're scheduling our movie on the same day as Martin's. What do I tell them?"

"Ha! Tell Lauren Graham not to worry. We're going to win. Just think—if our movie beats Martin's in the opening weekend, it'll be huge!"

"Let's hope we win."

"We will win!"

Harvey crushed his cigar into the ashtray.

At the Chinese Theatre, the crowd erupted in cheers as celebrities arrived on the red carpet.

The female reporter quickly turned around, and with excitement, shouted too.

The cameraman was feeling bitter. He had secretly liked the female reporter for a long time but had never dared to confess. Recently, all she seemed to talk about was Martin, which annoyed him, though there was nothing he could do.

Damn it, why did this guy have to be so handsome?

Seeing Martin walk towards the reporters, stylish in a perfectly tailored suit, smiling and waving to fans, the cameraman couldn't help but grumble.

Entering the interview area, Jeffrey Raymond quickly moved to Martin's side, ready to help his boss avoid any tricky questions from the reporters, although he knew his boss probably didn't need much help.

"Martin, over here, I have a question!"

A slender, blonde, long-legged reporter waved excitedly.

Beauty!

Martin smiled, walking toward her, then noticed the large-bearded cameraman behind the reporter, who seemed to harbor some animosity.

After a quick thought, Martin realized where the hostility came from but didn't care.

"Martin, who do you think will take the box office crown this week, The Wax Museum or Dracula 2000?"

"Well, how should I answer this? Of course, it's going to be The Wax Museum."

"But The Wax Museum isn't your usual psychological horror film. The producer of Dracula 2000 is horror master Wes Craven. Are you sure you're confident and not just pretending?"

Great question! Sharp! The cameraman thought, enjoying the moment and focusing the lens on Martin.

Martin's smile remained, radiant under his handsome features.

He replied, "I admire Wes Craven, but I'm always confident in my own films. And as for your point about me being good at psychological horror, I'm afraid that's a misunderstanding. I think time will prove everything."

Having said that, Martin turned to leave, feeling he had already given the reporter two chances to ask questions.

At that moment, the reporter called after him, "Martin, what do you mean by 'time will prove everything'? How does that relate to your expertise?"

Martin turned back, flashing a charming smile and saying, "It means everything will be proven."

He said it in two distinct words.

With that, he walked off without looking back.

The reporter stood there, repeating to herself, "Expertise, prove, everything... expertise, prove, everything..."

The cameraman was unable to hold back anymore, ready to speak, when the reporter suddenly exclaimed, "I get it! I figured it out, Martin was making a double entendre."

"Time proves, expertise in everything—that's how it should be understood! He's saying time will prove he's good at everything!"

The cameraman was stunned. Was that really Martin's meaning? Or had she just overanalyzed it? Perhaps he was just speaking off the cuff?

[•———•——•———•]

𝙥𝗮𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙤𝙣(.)𝙘𝙤𝙢/𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙊𝙛𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧