Chapter 8: Another Debit

"The troupe won't be rehearsing new plays for the time being. Your focus now should be on landing roles in film and television projects," Jerome declared passionately, although his true intentions were different.

Once rehearsals commenced, money would flow out like water. The Marietta Community Theater, a non-profit organization, primarily relied on donations from public welfare organizations and local government cultural funding for its income. The city hall owned the theaters.

Play rehearsals, much like movie shoots, were easier to account for, and the money saved would naturally find its way into the pockets of the few in charge, with Jerome at the helm.

Jerome wore the facade of doing it for the troupe's benefit, emphasizing, "In the future, I will personally mentor your performances. Trust me; there will be no one more professional than me in Marietta!"

Martin pondered as he listened. While the troupe held an advantage over individuals when it came to facing film and television crews, the $300 monthly fee made him hesitate, especially since the money in his pocket had been earned through the pain of a broken arm.

He recalled Harris, who had lost his arm, and respected Harris's efforts. Martin failed to see the immediate benefits and wasn't eager to part with his money.

One of the newcomers raised a question, "Captain, why are you shooting the movie you mentioned here in Atlanta?"

Currently, Atlanta was rather inconspicuous in the Hollywood film and television industry chain.

Jerome, however, displayed confidence and explained, "The state government passed a bill just before the New Year. Any film or television production shot in Atlanta, with an investment exceeding $500,000, will receive a 20% tax discount. If the film bears the Georgia state logo, they'll get an additional 100% discount, making it a total of 120%."

He made it clear, "Hollywood film and television production companies won't miss an opportunity to maximize their profits. More crews will come to Atlanta for shoots in the future. The opportunity is here; are you prepared?" Another person inquired, "I read on forums that actors need agents to find work. I don't have an agent."

Jerome dismissed the concern, "Don't worry about agents; don't worry about the Screen Actors Guild rules. The California Talent Bill can't regulate Atlanta!" He turned to the man, "Do you want an agent taking 10%, or would you rather spend $3,000 to join the Screen Actors Guild and pay hefty dues every year?"

The man's emotions flared under Jerome's influence, and he shook his head vigorously, "For $3,000, I'd rather buy a car."

Martin, usually quiet, didn't voice his objections. He knew that at the end of this Chicken Soup Conference, the troupe's accountant would collect dues. Out of the ten newcomers, only one left without paying. The other nine, including Martin, settled their dues.

Even old-timers like Robert chose to stay in the troupe, and Martin, who had experienced this phase, understood that their psychology mirrored that of countless drifters.

After hearing about the two upcoming film crews, Martin had been contemplating how to position himself as a priority for Jerome.

Once everyone left, Martin approached the accountant's desk, appearing embarrassed, "Mr. Mitchell, I... I don't have the money to pay my dues."

Jerome furrowed his brows, "Martin, don't make this difficult."

Martin grew emotional, emptying his pockets to reveal only $7, "I'm truly sorry. I was doing roof repair work, fell, broke my leg, and spent all my money on treatment. I lost my job, and my boss refused compensation and fired me. Could the dues be postponed for a while?"

He played the role of a struggling individual, "I'm actively looking for a new job, and I'll repay the theater company as soon as I have the money. Isn't there a play next week? I'll use the role's salary to pay it back immediately." He relied on the solid reputation of his predecessor, Martin Davis, in the theater company.

Jerome gazed at Martin's embarrassment and helplessness, reflecting on his own tough times in youth. He felt a touch of compassion, "Don't disappoint me."

"Thank you!" Martin expressed gratitude hastily and noticed a magazine under the accounting forms – the latest issue of "Entertainment Weekly." He gestured towards it, "Mr. Mitchell, you know I'm a big fan of Hollywood news, but I can't afford to buy it. Could you..."

Jerome waved it away, "Take it."

Martin took the magazine and as he was about to leave, he added, "Man, I'm an actor. When I become famous, I'll get you autographs from the film crew..."

Jerome, soft-hearted but not averse to profit, recorded Martin's debt. No one could owe him for long. If the struggling guy couldn't repay, he'd find a way to put him to work and settle the debt.

In Jerome's subconscious, those who had paid their dues could move to the back of the line; there was no more oil to be squeezed this month.

Martin waited a long time for the dilapidated minibus, found a seat at the back, and started reading the magazine. But the minibus suddenly broke down, prompting curses from passengers, including Martin.

"This public transportation is a nightmare!" Martin exclaimed, realizing he'd have to wait a while for the next minibus.

There were no taxis cruising the city in Atlanta; you had to call for one. Given the circumstances, Martin decided to walk.

A Dodge pickup truck pulled up behind him, with "Hulk Mansion" spray-painted on it. The window lowered, and Bruce, wearing a jacket, waved, "Martin Davis, need a ride?"

Martin hesitated, "Is it safe?"

Bruce pointed ahead, "I live south of Clayton, Baka community, which is on your way."

Martin moved to the passenger seat, "What a coincidence."

Bruce accelerated, "Just finished collecting a bill for the boss."

After a few hundred meters, Bruce added, "I almost forgot, you owe me $5 for the ride."

Martin protested, "Come on, man, have a heart!"

Bruce, holding the steering wheel with one hand, lifted his jacket with the other, revealing a pistol, "The boss said employees of The Beast's House should be law-abiding and civilized."

Martin saw the gun and conceded, "We'll settle up when we reach Clayton."

"Deal!" Bruce smiled genuinely.

Martin, no longer wishing to converse, picked up the magazine and began reading. Bruce, however, suddenly spoke up, "Entertainment Weekly? I love that magazine! There's a poster for 'Lost in Translation' in there!"

Martin inquired, "Are you a Scarlett Johansson fan?"

Bruce glanced back wistfully, "I had that movie poster, but it got torn."

Martin asked, "How did it get torn?"

Bruce grimaced, "It flew away in the wind accidentally."

Martin gave Bruce a thumbs-up and mimicked Harris's tone, "I'm 100% sure you're a civilized guy." He offered the magazine but pulled it back, "The ride's free, but the magazine will cost you $10."

Bruce handed over two $5 bills, "You drive a hard bargain."

Martin rolled up the magazine, asserting, "My neighbor Carter's a big fan of this poster too. I'm pretty sure I could fetch at least $20 for this magazine when I sell it."

Bruce handed over two $5 bills with a defeated look, "You drive a hard bargain..."

Martin pocketed the money and handed the magazine back to Bruce, saying casually, "You know, I'm an actor. When I become famous, I'll make sure to get you autographed photos from the crew." Bruce had no interest in continuing the conversation with Martin.

Sensing the mood, Martin shifted gears, saying, "I'll figure out how to pay you back. By the way, I'd like to meet your boss."

"Tomorrow night, the boss will be at the Hulk Mansion," Bruce replied, shaking the magazine in his hand, "For your sake, let me give you a tip. Prove your value to the boss, and you might earn some special treatment."