Chapter 637: Let’s make one too!

In the northern valley area of Los Angeles, a nondescript black commercial vehicle rolled into the studio compound, carrying a trio of familiar faces – Martin, Jolie, and Aniston.

As they stepped out of the vehicle, they were greeted by Jenna Jones, a seasoned director with a knack for captivating scenes. "Glad you could make it," she greeted them warmly.

Jolie couldn't help but inquire, a glint of excitement in her eyes, "What can we expect from today's shoot?"

Jenna's smile widened, radiating confidence. "You won't be disappointed," she assured them before turning to Martin, gratitude evident in her expression. "Thanks again for your support and authorization."

Martin waved off the formality with a grin. "No need for thanks, Jenna. We go way back."

With a nod of acknowledgment, Jenna ushered them to the second floor, where they could observe the action unfold from a prime vantage point.

"Just a heads up, we won't be using the overhead shots today," she explained as she led the way. "But you'll still get a great view from up here."

With a parting wave, Jenna disappeared back onto the set, leaving the group to settle in.

An unexpected presence greeted them inside – Mr. Jones, Jenna's father and Martin's former neighbor.

Warm embraces and heartfelt gratitude flowed as Mr. Jones expressed his appreciation for their support. "Thank you for being here," he said earnestly, shaking hands with Jolie and Aniston in turn.

Martin, ever the gracious host, took it upon himself to make introductions. "This is Mr. Jones, Jenna's father and a dear friend from Sherman Oaks."

The revelation hit Jolie and Aniston like a bolt from the blue. A father, journeying to the heart of the film industry to witness his daughter's artistic endeavor firsthand – it was a scene straight out of a Hollywood script.

While the duo struggled to comprehend the familial dynamic unfolding before them, Martin and Mr. Jones engaged in easy conversation by the glass window, catching up on recent events and reminiscing about old times.

Though Aniston found the situation peculiar, she found solace in Martin's presence, with Jolie close by her side.

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by Mr. Jones' earnest declaration to Martin, "Brad Pitt may be well-known, but he's still a newcomer in this industry. Jenna, on the other hand, is a seasoned pro. She'll shine."

Martin offered a sympathetic nod, understanding the complexities of familial support in the cutthroat world of filmmaking.

Mr. Jones continued, his voice tinged with pride, "I hope Jenna can clinch another Best Actress and Best Director – she's poised to become a true industry icon."

Sensing the need to refocus, Martin gently interjected, "Let's save the accolades for after the shoot."

Down on the set, Brad Pitt, clad in a sharp suit, took his place as filming commenced amidst a backdrop of swirling powdered sugar – a visual spectacle that promised to captivate audiences and critics alike.

As filming progressed, Jenna found herself frequently halting the action to make adjustments – a testament to the challenges of capturing the perfect shot.

"It's tough to keep up the pace," Jenna admitted during a break, returning to her director's chair to review footage alongside Mr. Jones. "Pitt's still finding his footing. Back in the day, those actors were like wild animals on set. I often had to calm them down before shooting."

Mr. Jones, ever the concerned father, offered, "Maybe I should go down and give Brad Pitt a few pointers? Make sure he's putting enough force into it?"

Martin, well-accustomed to Mr. Jones' fretting, simply nodded in response, letting the words wash over him without engaging.

Meanwhile, Jolie and Aniston struggled to suppress their amusement at Mr. Jones' earnestness, exchanging knowing glances as they bit back laughter.

As filming resumed, Jenna decided to shake things up, inviting the two burly men handling the powdered sugar to join the scene.

One of them, however, seemed less than genuine, exuding an air of envy and hostility that made Pitt uneasy.

Soon enough, both Jolie and Aniston found themselves eager to whisk Martin away from the odd dynamic unfolding on set.

During a break, Jenna approached Martin, a rolled-up notebook clutched in her hand. "Pitt mentioned something to me. Mind if we chat?"

Martin's brow furrowed slightly. "He knows we're here?"

"I doubt it," Jenna replied, her professionalism unwavering. "No one else knows you're here except for me."

Handing the notebook to Martin, Jenna explained, "Pete wrote a script and wanted me to take a look. But there's something... off about it."

Martin unfurled the pages, revealing a script titled "Eternal Love." As he skimmed the contents, a smirk tugged at his lips.

Intrigued, Jolie and Aniston leaned in, their curiosity piqued. But as they scanned the script, recognition dawned, and they erupted into laughter.

Aniston's exasperation was palpable. "Pitt just won't let it go, will he?"

Martin returned the script to Jenna with a shrug. "Doesn't bother me."

After all, Martin knew the power of creative license in Hollywood. Names could be changed, stories reimagined – all without infringing on copyrights.

Glancing at Jolie and Aniston, Martin inquired, "What do you think?"

Jolie's enthusiasm was palpable. "Let's do it! And count me in for investment, Director Jones."

Aniston attempted to interject, but Jolie silenced her with a hand over her mouth.

Unfazed, Jolie issued a playful threat. "If you object, I'll replace you with Charlize Theron."

Aniston scoffed, "You wouldn't dare!"

"Why not? Variety keeps things interesting," Jolie teased, leaning in close to whisper in Aniston's ear. "Think about it – Jenna's our best shot at making this script shine."

Aniston relented, conceding, "Fine, but let's keep our names out of it. And no insinuations, Jenna."

Jenna nodded earnestly. "I'll make sure of it."

"Best of luck with the shoot," Martin bid farewell as he glanced back at Jenna's studio, prepared to leave. "We'll make ourselves scarce so you can focus on filming."

Jenna escorted the group out through a side door, ensuring their departure went unnoticed.

Once settled in the car, Jolie directed Bruce, "Head to the hotel, brother."

Bruce nodded in acknowledgment. "Just twenty minutes."

True to his word, within ten minutes, he expertly navigated the car into the underground parking lot of a nearby hotel.

Before leading Jolie and Aniston inside, Martin instructed Bruce to perform a thorough check for any potential issues.

Once inside, Aniston retrieved a miniature camera from her bag with a mischievous grin. "How about we capture some memories of our own?"

Jolie readily agreed, excitement twinkling in her eyes. "Absolutely!"

With unanimous approval, Martin saw no reason to object.

*****

On the bustling North Hollywood Valley Boulevard, a sleek black Lexus sat parked near a vibrant Mexican restaurant.

Sporting sunglasses, a middle-aged man retrieved a black leather bag from the passenger seat before stepping out of the car. He confirmed the restaurant's name before making his way inside.

A man donning a Dodgers baseball cap approached him. "Derett?"

The middle-aged man nodded affirmatively. "I'm here to meet the Newell brothers."

"That's us," Romero confirmed, motioning for him to follow as they made their way to a secluded corner of the restaurant.

Derrett soon found himself face-to-face with Rodriguez, a seasoned informant, seated at a booth enjoying a modest burrito. Two tattooed men flanked him on either side.

Setting down his fork, Rodriguez addressed Derrett, "You're the one interested in buying some insider information on Martin Davis's latest project?"

Derrett's smile was anticipatory. "I've heard you've got the inside scoop."

Rodriguez leaned in, his demeanor grave. "Indeed, I do. Exclusive intel." He eyed the leather bag Derrett had brought. "Martin Davis is a rare breed in Hollywood. His film choices are unparalleled. Even A-listers like Tom Cruise and Will Smith struggle to match his track record."

This revelation piqued Derrett's interest. Over the years, Martin Davis had proven himself a master of commercial success, with each project a box-office triumph.

Derrett wasn't a novice in this game. He produced a thick stack of dollars and placed it on the table, a gesture of earnest intent.

Diego and DePaul exchanged glances, their mouths dry with anticipation.

Rodriguez, however, remained unfazed. "That won't suffice."

Undeterred, Derrett produced another wad of cash, adding it to the pile. "Consider this a token of my sincerity."

Rodriguez hesitated, then continued, "Davis Studio recently relocated, and Martin Davis ordered a safe." He paused for dramatic effect.

Derrett withdrew his offer, eyeing Rodriguez intently.

Checking the authenticity of the money, Rodriguez confirmed, "We delivered the safe to Martin Davis's office and saw scripts on his desk."

Derrett's eyes gleamed at the prospect. This wasn't just any script – it was a potential goldmine worth millions.

Rodriguez continued, "No one stores such valuable assets in an office safe. Martin Davis must be safeguarding those scripts."

Derrett nodded in agreement. It made sense – only the cream of the crop would warrant such protection.

Eager for more, Derrett pressed, "Go on."

But Rodriguez remained firm. "Your money buys you this intel alone."

Derrett frowned in disbelief. "Are you serious?"

Rodriguez held his ground. "As I said, you'll have to find your own way to access those scripts, wherever they may be."