Chapter 6: The Thing I Do Best

It was pitch black outside, but inside the house was brightly lit with laughter and cheerful voices.

Harris finished his Monte Cristo sandwich, picked up a can of beer and tossed it to Martin. He opened another can with one hand and exclaimed, "Martin, my admiration for you has shot up from zero to ninety percent!"

Elena walked over with a plate, sat next to Martin, and forked a piece of oxtail. "This is your reward," she said.

Martin took a big bite of the meat, popped open his beer, raised it, and said, "To all the losers, raise your glasses!"

"Cheers!" they all echoed.

Lily and Hall, the two clowns, also raised their Cokes.

The afternoon's success had brought them genuine joy.

The joy was so pure that it encouraged Lily and Hall to reach for the beer.

Elena shot them a glance, making Lily shrink back. "It wasn't me, it was Hall who grabbed my hand!" Lily protested.

Hall wouldn't back down. "It was clearly you that egged me on!" he retorted.

Martin knocked on his empty can. "You two idiots ruin my good mood again, and you'll be sleeping on the street."

"Since you're treating, I'll let it slide," said Lily, the noise from her soda straw buzzing as she sucked on it, refraining from further argument with Hall.

Martin stood up and said, "Alright, I'll make you girls a cocktail."

Elena was surprised. "Since when did you, you idiot, learn to bartend?"

Martin picked up a can of SweetWater beer and headed to the open kitchen, rummaging around. "Old Jack is the most versatile guy in northeastern Marietta. How do you think he managed to elope with your mom?"

Harris sneaked behind the sofa, intentionally telling Elena, "The likelihood of Old Jack's son being a scumbag is ninety-nine percent."

Lily overheard and chimed in, "Scott and Jack are both scumbags, so is Martin--a perfect lineage!"

With a thud, Elena's fist landed on Lily's face, making Lily cover her nose in silence.

Without the proper materials in the kitchen, Martin found some substitutes and grabbed Lily's school water bottle since he didn't have a shaker.

Jack Davis was indeed multi-talented, but Martin Davis hadn't learned bartending from him.

Martin had learned it specifically to land a bartender role while drifting around.

Back then, Martin drank heavily and practiced often.

Martin poured in half a bottle of SweetWater beer, added sugar, salt, Coke, and a bit of baking soda. He cracked open an egg, letting the egg white fall in, then squeezed in some lemon juice. Finally, he tightened the lid and shook it up.

He placed two cups on the cluttered coffee table, unscrewed the cap, and poured the drink. "Foamy Beauties, enjoy," he announced.

The drink in the cups was filled with foam.

Elena carefully took a sip from her cup. "It tastes a bit strange," she remarked.

Lily, quick as ever, grabbed the other cup and took a big sniff. "This is disgusting..." she complained.

Martin smacked Lily's head with his palm. "Idiot, watch your mouth."

Harris took Lily's glass and enjoyed it alone. "Is there anything else you've learned that we don't know about?" he asked.

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

Lily couldn't help but speak up again, "I know..."

A dagger-like glare silenced Lily completely.

Martin had only learned to ride because of his work as a stunt double.

Elena finished her drink and remembered something. She took out a packaged disc and handed it to Martin. "A copied video."

Harris asked, "Is it still useful?"

Martin put it aside nonchalantly. "Even if that bum quits tomorrow, he'll test positive for a long time."

The others didn't understand and focused on their eating and drinking.

Elena, full and satisfied, asked, "You're not planning to ditch us with the money like Scumbag Jack, are you?"

Martin opened another beer. "With this little money, going to an unfamiliar place would be even harder once it's gone."

There was some truth in his words, as Martin had indeed considered fleeing, but he decided to see how things went first.

Elena lifted her legs onto the sofa. "I'll allow you to delay the rent. First, pay off some of the loan sharks. I've heard that Vincent, the boss of The Beast House, is tough to deal with."

She continued, "Have you considered a new job?"

"Doing what I do best..." Martin had of course thought about it.

It was late, and after a long day, Harris was tired. He dragged Hall back to the room.

Elena stood up to clean the mess on the floor, bending over with her hand on the coffee table to pick up the napkins that Hall had scattered.

...

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

Carter's house wasn't big, just two bedrooms. Elena shared a room with Lily, and Harris shared the other with Hall.

Martin couldn't share a room with Elena and Lily, and he had been too lazy to go back next door last night, so he slept on the long sofa.

Half asleep, half awake, Martin was still pondering about the things.

What was he good at? Acting and related skills, mainly maneuvering in the entertainment industry.

In his previous life, he had foolishly dreamt of becoming the next big star, wasting his prime years on it.

While he was a self-taught actor, he was diligent and willing to endure hardships. Even when he made it to bit parts, some of the seasoned professionals would compliment his performance.

In the field of acting, talent was crucial, and Martin had some in his past life. However, success in the entertainment industry wasn't determined by talent and acting skills alone.

Martin was no longer naive and had a clear understanding of himself.

In this life, Martin Davis was almost at the bottom of society, with negligible connections and negative wealth, without even a basic education.

Martin knew that to move forward, it was best to do what he excelled at.

Breaking into Hollywood wasn't easy either. For poor folks, aside from stealing or joining gangs as expendable fodder, everything was tough.

Martin's short-term goals became clear: adapt to the current society, understand the dynamics of the film industry, and earn enough money to seek opportunities in Los Angeles or New York.

Atlanta could also be a starting point. After all, by around 2015 in his past life, Atlanta had become the third largest film production hub in the U.S., after Los Angeles and New York.

Opportunities were crucial; often, they mattered more than abilities.

*****

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