Chapter 722: Best Actor

In recent years, the Oscars have become a nostalgic snooze fest, even putting seasoned veterans like Nicholson to sleep. With his shades perched on his nose, Nicholson appeared to be watching the ceremony, but his snores revealed otherwise.

Martin nudged Nicholson, who groggily asked, "You accepting an award or something?"

Martin whispered back, "Can't you at least pretend to be interested?"

Leonardo chimed in, "I swear I almost started snoring."

Nicholson shrugged, "I'm not in the running for anything, and I don't owe the Academy a thing. They keep inviting me, begging for my presence every year."

Leonardo fell silent, and Martin shook his head at Nicholson's nonchalance.

As Angelina Jolie announced the Best Adapted Screenplay award, "Descendants" claimed victory, marking "The Martian's" fifth loss of the night, a fact that seemed to matter little to the group.

For them, "The Martian" had one singular aim, rendering other nominations mere distractions.

As Esperanza Spalding's nostalgic tune filled the auditorium, previous Best Actress Natalie Portman hurried onstage, prompting Nicholson to sit up and Leonardo to stir.

Elizabeth unconsciously gripped Martin's arm, anticipation mounting for the Best Actor announcement.

Their failed attempt at feigned disinterest hinted at an impending revelation, whether their scheme to sell misery would ultimately succeed.

Meanwhile, across the aisle, Amber Heard cast a disdainful glance at Elizabeth Olsen, finding her nerves over the Best Actor award absurd.

However, amidst the tension, Johnny Depp's silent prayer echoed, clutching a silver cross tightly, hoping Martin Davis wouldn't achieve his desire.

Amber Heard's calmness stemmed from her lack of affection for Depp, realizing his irrelevance to the award at hand.

In the mansion's living room, Matt Damon eyed the TV, beer can in hand, but refrained from drinking. Luciana, sensing his unease, discreetly took the remote to avoid future confrontations.

As Damon's confidante, she knew Martin Davis haunted his nightmares, especially during the Weinstein scandal, when Damon would jolt awake shouting Davis's name.

Meanwhile, on TV, Natalie Portman, clad in red, prattled on about crosswords.

In Atlanta, at the Coca-Cola Cult's headquarters, Elena, adorned with a ring, joined the sea of red-clad devotees, fervently praying for their leader's victory.

In the Davis Manor villa's living room, Lily adorned herself with a ribbon, ready to play Elizabeth's role as a human gift, contemplating the perfect knot.

At the Hollywood and Highland Center, Portman announced the Best Actor nominees, culminating in Martin Davis's triumph, igniting Elizabeth's ecstatic reaction, sealing it with a passionate kiss.

The "Martian" crew erupted in applause, with even Leonardo and Nicholson joining in.

Nicholson, buoyant with success, declared a halftime celebration, while Martin embraced Leonardo, hinting at mischief.

Leonardo's apprehension grew as Martin chuckled in his ear, prompting him to step back nervously.

After exchanging high-fives with the crew, Martin confidently strode toward the stage, ready to claim his award.

Elizabeth rose from her seat, arms outstretched, mirroring the rising tide of the audience spreading around her.

Amidst the thunderous applause, the first standing ovation of the night rippled through the crowd.

Amber, catching sight of the sea of standing figures, rose as well, her gaze fixed on the figure advancing toward the stage, her eyes a tumultuous mix of emotions.

Beside her, Johnny Depp's hand snapped, releasing the cross necklace to the ground, a stark declaration of defiance. With eyes shut tight, he sank back into his seat, hands covering his ears like a man possessed—his final act of rebellion, refusing to stand, applaud, or witness Martin Davis's triumph.

His shouted expletive echoed against the applause: "Damn impostor!"

In the mansion's living room, as Natalie Portman announced the winner, Luciana silenced the TV, but the clicking sound of disappointment filled the air.

Matt Damon's usually earnest face clouded over, his grip tightening on the can until it buckled, spilling its contents onto the floor. Luciana watched with concern as Damon tossed the can away, mustering a strained smile. "It's alright, let's take a walk," he suggested, attempting to shake off his disappointment.

At the Coca-Cola Cult headquarters, jubilation reigned supreme.

Elena seized a can of Coke, lifting it triumphantly as she addressed the assembly. "Victory is ours!" she proclaimed.

"We won!" echoed the chorus of voices.

Robert, in charge, wasted no time. "Fire up the fireworks!" he commanded.

Outside, whistles pierced the air, fireworks painting the Atlanta skyline with bursts of color.

The tallest building in Atlanta illuminated with neon lights.

From the penthouse, Kelly Gray surveyed the scene, a smile playing on her lips.

The neon sign glimmered boldly: "Martin, Best Actor!"

In Davis Manor, Lily stood before the mirror, deftly tying ribbons into an elegant bow atop her head.

Her skilled fingers worked with precision, the ribbon resembling a finely wrapped gift.

Gazing at her reflection, Lily chuckled, addressing Elizabeth through the mirror. "Remember your promise, Elizabeth. Consider this a preemptive gift. If you don't claim it, don't be surprised if I deliver it straight to your doorstep."

At the Hollywood and Highland Center, Martin basked in the applause as he ascended the podium.

Natalie Portman, beaming, approached him, embracing him warmly. "Congratulations, Martin," she whispered.

"Thank you," Martin replied, his excitement palpable. He had meticulously prepared for this moment, ensuring no room for an upset.

Natalie handed him the statuette, and Martin, beaming with pride, hoisted it above his head before bringing it close, addressing the audience. "Thank you to the academy, the judges, my agent, every member of my team, and the entire 'Martian' crew. And to everyone I've crossed paths with in life, your impact hasn't gone unnoticed!"

With time ticking, he quickened his pace. "I'm truly blessed, overwhelmed to hold this little golden man. And it's no mystery why, my devoted girlfriend, her love propelling me forward, and perhaps a nod from the heavens."

The camera panned to Elizabeth Olsen, tears of joy glistening in her eyes.

Martin continued, "Not forgetting my brother-in-arms, Bruce, who's been by my side through thick and thin. And my esteemed friends, Jack Nicholson and Leonardo DiCaprio, remind me, fellas, how many Best Actor statues do we collectively own?"

Laughter erupted as Martin teased his friends. "The Hollywood Iron Triangle, six Oscars in tow. Now, how's that for a math problem?"

The audience chuckled, especially as the camera zoomed in on Leonardo, his smile belying inner turmoil—Martin had unwittingly set a trap.

As the timekeeper's reminder music chimed, Martin raised the statuette once more, following the emcee backstage.

There, Angelina Jolie awaited, enveloping Martin in a congratulatory hug. "Finally, this award is rightfully yours," she exclaimed.

Martin grinned. "Luck was on my side this time."

Angelina leaned in, her tone sly. "Your PR campaign was a triumph. You've effectively neutralized your only real competition."

Martin's expression turned earnest. "But my performance spoke for itself."

Angelina nodded, impressed. "Indeed, it did. I'll arrange for Jennifer to join in the celebrations."

"In a few days," Martin agreed.

As a staff member engraved his name on the statuette, the backstage buzzed with photo ops, Martin reveling in the moment, graciously welcoming all who approached.