Chapter 6 The Thing I'm Best At

Outside the sky was pitch black, but inside the house, the lights were bright, and laughter and chatter were endless.

Harris finished his Monte Cristo sandwich, grabbed a can of beer, and tossed it to Martin. He cracked open another with one hand and exclaimed loudly, "Martin, my admiration for you has just skyrocketed from zero to ninety percent!"

Elena came over with a plate, sat next to Martin, and speared a piece of oxtail: "A reward for you."

Martin bit into the meat, opened his beer, and raised it, saying, "Losers, let's toast together!"

"Cheers!"

Lily and Hol, the two idiots, also raised their colas.

The afternoon's haul brought genuine joy.

Such pure joy inspired Lily and Hol to reach for the beer.

Elena glanced over, and Lily, with her neck shrunk, said, "It wasn't me, Hol grabbed my hand!"

Holle refused to be outdone: "It clearly egged me on to grab it!"

Martin tapped his emptied can: "If you two morons ruin my good mood again, I'll throw you out to sleep on the streets."

"Since it's your treat," Lily said, buzzing the straw, no longer bickering with Hol.

Martin stood up and said, "Alright, I'll mix a drink for you girls."

Elena was surprised: "You idiot, when did you learn how to mix drinks?"

Martin took a can of sweet water beer and headed to the open kitchen while searching, he said, "Old bastard Jack is the most talented man in northeastern Marietta, what do you think he used to run away with your mom?"

Harris quietly moved behind the sofa, intentionally saying to Elena, "Bastard Jack's son has a ninety-nine percent chance of being a bastard."

Lily, who was nearby, interjected, "Scott and Jack are bastards, Martin is a bastard, perfectly inherited!"

With a thud, Elena's fist landed on Lily's face, Lily covered her nose, silenced.

With no professional ingredients in the kitchen, Martin could only find a few substitutes; there was no cocktail shaker, so he simply used the water bottle Lily used for school.

Jack Davis was indeed multitalented, but Martin Davis hadn't learned mixology from him.

That was something Martin had picked up on his own, to compete for a bartender role in a bit part.

Back then, Martin loved a good drink, so he kept practicing.

Martin poured half a bottle of sweet water beer into the water bottle, added sugar, salt, cola, and baking soda, cracked open an egg, put in the egg white, squeezed in a little lemon juice, and then tightened the bottle cap to shake it all up.

He placed two cups on a coffee table piled with food packaging, unscrewed the bottle cap, and poured: "Foam beauty, enjoy."

The drink in the cups was piled with foam.

Elena took a cup, sipped it carefully: "Tastes a bit weird."

Lily, quick on the draw, snatched the other cup and gave it a good sniff: "So disgusting..."

Martin slapped Lily on the top of her head: "Idiot, watch your mouth."

Harris took Lily's cup away, savoring it alone: "Have you learned anything else we don't know about?"

Martin said, "I'm also good at horseback riding."

Lily couldn't help herself again: "I know..."

Knife-like eyes turned his way, and Lily clamped her mouth shut.

Martin had been a stunt double who could ride horses, that was all.

After finishing her bubbly beverage, Elena remembered something and took out a packaged CD, handing it to Martin, "A copy of the surveillance video."

Harris asked, "Is it still useful?"

Martin put it aside and mumbled, "Even if that waste gave it up tomorrow, his drug tests are going to be positive for a long time."

The rest didn't understand and just let it go, focusing on eating and drinking.

Once Elena had eaten her fill, she asked, "You're not going to run off with the money like that bastard Jack, are you?"

Martin opened another beer, "With this little money, I'd be worse off after I ran out of it in some unfamiliar place."

There was truth and lie in his words; Martin had indeed considered running away, but whether to run or not, he would wait and see.

Elena shifted on the sofa, "I'll allow you to pay the rent late, go pay off some of the high-interest loan first. I've heard Vincent from House of Beast is tough to deal with."

She then asked, "Have you considered a new job?"

Martin had certainly considered it, "I'll do what I'm best at..."

It was getting late, and Harris, who was tired from the day's hassles, dragged Holle back to their room.

Elena stood up to tidy up the trash on the floor, and while holding the coffee table, she bent over with her back to Martin to pick up the napkins Holle had scattered around.

......

In the morning, Martin was sleeping alone on the long couch.

The Carter home was small, with only two bedrooms—one for Elena and Lily, and another shared by Harris and Holle.

Martin couldn't possibly squeeze into a room with Elena and Lily, and too lazy to go back to the neighbor's last night, he simply slept on the long couch instead.

Half-asleep and dazed, Martin was reminded again of what he was best at.

What was he good at? Acting and some related skills—most importantly, networking in the entertainment industry.

When he was young in his previous life, he dreamt foolishly of being like the character Simpleton from Gone with the Wind, wasting the best years of his life on it.

If talking solely about acting, even though he was self-taught, he was determined to study and endure hardships. After becoming a supporting actor, even some of the seasoned actors who had formal training from early on would commend him.

Acting is a field that heavily relies on talent, and in his last life, Martin had a decent amount of it. However, success in the entertainment industry isn't determined just by talent and acting skills.

Martin had long lost his naivety; he had an accurate assessment of himself.

The former Martin Davis almost belonged to the lowest rung of society, with little to no connections, his assets in the negative, and he hadn't even completed his basic education.

Martin was clear that if he wanted to progress in the future, he should stick to the field he knew best.

The film industry in Hollywood was tough to break into, and in fact, for a pauper, other than zero-cost shopping or joining a gang as bottom-rung fodder, most industries were difficult to penetrate.

Martin's short-term goals became clear: adapt to American society, gather more knowledge about the film industry, and earn enough money to head to Los Angeles or New York to seek opportunities.

Atlanta could also serve as a starting point, after all, by around 2015, Atlanta had become the third-largest film production center in the US, after Los Angeles and New York.

It's mainly about opportunities—often opportunities are far more important than capabilities.