Chapter 800: Do you want me to get back together with Townsend?

In the opulent luxury suite of the Burbank Hotel, the tension in the room was palpable.

Kevin Tsujihara was engrossed in his own world for a couple of minutes, his movements mechanical and devoid of any real passion. Just as Charlotte Kirk began to feel something, he abruptly stopped, leaving her in a state of confusion and discomfort.

A wave of humiliation washed over Charlotte. She shoved Kevin away, her frustration evident. Kevin lay on his back, motionless, like a corpse. Minutes ticked by with an agonizing slowness before he finally moved, and Charlotte couldn't help but glance at the TV. The live broadcast of the Oscar red carpet on ABC was already underway, a stark contrast to the reality she was enduring.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kevin broke the silence. "Clean it up for me," he demanded. Charlotte, despite her anger and indignation, complied. She needed his favor, after all. As she busied herself, she couldn't contain her frustration. "You promised me the role of Wonder Woman, but now Gal Gadot has it."

Kevin, still savoring his dominance over her, replied nonchalantly, "DC is pushing for Gal Gadot. They made the decision, and I couldn't override it. I had to agree to their recommendation."

Charlotte's face contorted in an aggrieved expression. "What about me? Where do I fit in?"

Kevin, eager to placate her without giving too much away, responded, "I've arranged an audition for you in 'Interstellar.' You can go next week." He continued, feeding her dreams with practiced ease. "You need to gain experience and sharpen your acting skills. Once you're ready, I'll secure you a leading role. One major film can launch your career."

At just 20 years old, Charlotte was no match for Kevin's manipulative cunning. She nodded eagerly, "I'll do whatever you say."

Their conversation was interrupted by a burst of applause from the television. Kevin glanced over, seeing Martin Davis holding a Coca-Cola and engaging with fans in a lively manner.

Charlotte's eyes sparkled with envy. "One day, I'll be like Martin Davis, walking the Oscar red carpet and being the center of attention, right?"

"Of course," Kevin assured her, his words dripping with false sincerity. "You have the potential. Stick with me, and in a few years, you'll be a big star."

Despite her dissatisfaction with Kevin's brief performance, Charlotte was convinced by his promises. "I'll do whatever you ask."

Confident in his control over her, Kevin directed, "Once you're on the 'Interstellar' set, gather more information about Martin Davis. It doesn't matter if it's positive or negative. Just keep your eyes and ears open, but don't do anything foolish."

Charlotte, seeing no immediate risk, agreed. "I will."

Kevin draped an arm around her shoulders. "Let's watch the Oscars together."

…

Meanwhile, at Hollywood's iconic Dolby Theatre, the 85th Academy Awards red carpet was in full swing. Martin Davis emerged from the media area, pausing to survey the grand entrance of the theater before ascending the stairs.

The summer's chaos, marked by the filming of 'Joker,' had been meticulously erased. New stone slabs had replaced those marred by bullet holes. A solemn memorial wall now adorned the entrance, featuring photos of the 22 victims, with Vin Diesel's image most prominently displayed.

Martin noticed a group heading towards the memorial, accompanied by a flurry of camera flashes. He slowed his pace, taking a moment to pay his respects and reflect on the evening's events.

Paul Walker walked straight to the memorial photo of Vin Diesel, memories of family and brotherhood flooding back. This poignant moment was part of the family memorial promotion for "Fast and Furious 6," set to release that summer.

Word had spread that today's Oscars would feature a special memorial session. The crew of "Fast and Furious 6" had even hired a singer to compose a song for Vin Diesel, which would be performed during the session.

As Martin entered the theater, he spotted Nicholson and Leonardo already mingling in the lobby. Leonardo was deep in conversation with Tobey Maguire.

Martin approached Nicholson, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Aren't you completely retired?"

Nicholson chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I did want some free time, but the Academy insisted. They practically begged me. So here I am, guest presenting the Best Picture award tonight."

Martin nodded, a hint of admiration in his voice. "You seem to have the record for presenting the Best Picture award, don't you?"

Nicholson puffed out his chest, a mock arrogance in his tone. "That's my spot at the Oscars. You and Leo couldn't catch up even if you had another 30 years."

Martin laughed, knowing how much the Academy adored Nicholson. "You and the Oscars are practically synonymous."

Nicholson glanced around, making sure no one was listening. He lowered his voice, a playful glint in his eyes. "But you, my friend, have dragged the Academy's name through the mud."

Martin grinned. "You played a part in that too."

Nicholson shook his head, feigning exasperation. "My good name, ruined because of you."

Ralph Jackson, the whistleblower who exposed the email scandal, had been introduced to Martin by Nicholson. They shared a long history, Nicholson knowing Ralph for over a decade.

Martin clapped a hand on Nicholson's shoulder. "Face it, old man, your reputation is already in tatters."

Across the room, Tobey Maguire waved to them before leaving. Leonardo rejoined Martin and Nicholson, urging, "Let's head in."

As they walked into the theater together, Martin turned to Leonardo, curiosity piqued. "What's going on?"

Leonardo sighed. "It's about Tobey. He and Jennifer Meyer have separated. As the godfather to his child, I had to check in."

Nicholson, ever the gossip, chimed in. "Is it because of Tobey's poker obsession?"

Leonardo nodded, looking weary. "A few years back, Tobey lost millions and borrowed a large sum from me. I got him a role in 'The Great Gatsby' hoping he'd get back on track."

Martin frowned. "Did he lose all his earnings again?"

Leonardo's expression darkened. "Yes, he's blown through his paychecks and even the tax money he'd set aside."

Martin shook his head. "Unless he quits gambling, your help won't matter."

Nicholson was blunt. "You can't trust a gambler. Those who lose this much are usually beyond saving. I've seen it too often."

Their bond was strong, allowing for frank conversations. Leonardo sighed deeply. "I'll tell my accountant to handle Tobey's taxes. I'll cover it. Beyond that... there's not much more I can do."

Martin and Nicholson fell into a comfortable silence, their thoughts lingering on the conversation.

Leonardo, always considerate of his friends, had a soft spot for Tobey Maguire. His strong recommendation had even benefitted Spider-Man himself. When Tobey was teetering on the brink of bankruptcy last year, Leonardo pulled him into "The Great Gatsby," ensuring they acted together.

As they entered the theater hall, the trio's seats were scattered, and they soon parted ways.

Martin's seat was in the second row, center, reserved for "Argo." As he approached, he noticed David Fincher and Graham already seated. Nearby, the crew of "Snow White and the Huntsman" were settling in.

Kristen Stewart, sitting nearby, waved at him. Charlize Theron, another neighbor, approached and took the empty seat beside Martin. The organizers had reserved two seats for Martin, but with Elizabeth and Lily on a business trip, the seats remained vacant.

Martin glanced at Charlize and remarked, "The new Dior ad makes you look like a goddess."

Charlize raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk on her lips. "Even a goddess might lie down obediently next to you."

Martin chuckled, eyeing her freshly dyed blonde hair. "I miss your bald head from before."

"Really miss it?" Charlize shot back, skeptical. "Last time, you said I looked like a white version of Tyson with a bald head, broad back, and well-trained muscles when I sprinted!"

Martin feigned confusion. "Did I say that? I don't recall."

Charlize leaned closer, her voice a low tease. "Your family is away on business. I'll build the bridge over tonight. Come early, and I'll wait for you. You can appreciate it carefully, I've grown my hair and lost my muscles. Do I still look like a white version of Tyson?"

Martin, ever the rogue, dodged the question. "Do you still have the clothes you wore for the Dior commercial?"

Charlize rolled her eyes. "I knew you'd have weird requests, so I kept a set just for you."

Martin grinned. "You're the best neighbor."

They joked about future memoirs, his titled "The South African Diamond Next Door" and hers "The Old Horse Next Door."

"Oh, I forgot to mention," Charlize said, her tone teasing. "Stuart Townsend called me a few days ago. He wants to get back together."

Martin's brow furrowed. "You're not considering it, are you?"

Charlize, appreciating Martin's role in lifting her spirits and career, played along. "If you have a request, I might consider it."

Martin, sensing a challenge, replied, "Do you have any misunderstandings about me?"

Charlize laughed, covering her mouth. "No misunderstandings, Martin Davis. I'm the person involved in those rumors! Do you need reminding? You hinted at me not to take down the photo with my ex-fiancé in my room..."

Before Martin could respond, a burst of music signaled the start of the Oscars. The host, with a mean smile, stepped onto the stage.

Martin recognized the voice instantly, Seth MacFarlane, the man behind the mean bear. The ceremony was about to begin, and the evening promised to be full of surprises.