Chapter 145

"Hi, honey, did you sleep well?"

Grant greeted Martin as he came downstairs.

"Very well!" Martin replied with a grin. "I love my pillow."

"Then try not to come home so late in the future," Linda interjected, her tone tinged with disapproval.

Linda was still unhappy about Martin's late arrival after the premiere last week.

Martin chuckled and didn't respond further. He knew Linda's temperament too well—her complaints would subside as long as he didn't argue. But if he dared to talk back, he would undoubtedly face the full force of her wrath.

Grant shot Martin a helpless glance before pretending to bury himself in the morning paper.

The housekeeper, Mrs. Aranda, brought Martin's breakfast to the table.

"Wow, Shawarma?!" Martin exclaimed, surprised. "When did you learn to make arab food?"

Mrs. Aranda smiled warmly. "I know you enjoy Arab dishes, so I learned it just for you. How does it taste?"

[TL/N: This was supposed to be chinese foods, but i changed it since i hate it.]

Martin took a big bite, savoring the burst of rich meat juices and fragrant aroma.

"This is amazing!" he exclaimed, giving her a thumbs-up.

Mrs. Aranda beamed at the compliment, while Grant glanced at his own bread and ham with a sudden lack of enthusiasm.

"Dad, are you still reading the newspaper?" Martin asked.

"Huh? Oh, not really," Grant replied, lowering the paper and handing it over. "Here, take it. It's all good news anyway."

Indeed, it was all positive headlines:

"With a $30 million budget, Hide and Seek raked in $27 million in its opening weekend, topping the North American box office charts. Martin has done it again. His name is now synonymous with success." — The New York Times

"Martin showcases acting skills far beyond his years. Alongside Robert De Niro's solid performance, director John Polson delivers a haunting thriller that keeps viewers on edge. The film exudes a chilling atmosphere from start to finish." — Los Angeles Times

"A rare blend of art and commerce, this thriller is crafted with masterful precision. Martin, just 14 at the time of writing the script, has demonstrated extraordinary storytelling prowess. The soundtrack, layered with dynamic rhythms, enhances the film's suspenseful and suffocating atmosphere. A remarkable achievement." — Chicago Sun-Times

"The film's performances are compelling, with Martin delivering a poignant portrayal of a young boy confronting fear. His nuanced emotions elicit both sadness and empathy, leaving a lasting impression on the audience." — The Washington Post

In the Olsen family villa, Elizabeth set down the newspaper with a pout. "Ugh, no one even mentioned me! Was my performance that bad?"

Janet, her mother, offered a comforting smile. "Sweetheart, your performance was great. It's just that your role was too small to stand out. Don't worry about it."

"Wait, I found something!" Elizabeth suddenly exclaimed, her mood shifting. She read aloud from another paper:

"Elizabeth Olsen delivers a solid performance, hinting at her potential as a future star."

Although it was just one line, it was enough to lift her spirits.

The phone rang, and the maid answered it promptly. "Hello, this is the Olsen residence… Miss, it's Martin. He'd like to speak with you."

"Martin?!" Elizabeth shrieked with excitement, bolting to the phone.

Moments later, she bounded back into the room, nearly vibrating with joy. "Mom, Martin invited me to the beach! Can I go? Please, please, please?"

"Calm down!" Janet laughed, holding her shoulders. "Did he say who else is going?"

"Yes, his classmates and a few friends," Elizabeth confirmed eagerly.

Janet relaxed. "Alright, you can go, but only if one of your sisters accompanies you."

"Deal! I'll go talk to Mary and Ashley right now!" Elizabeth sprinted up the stairs.

In Lindsay Lohan's house, the little actress put down the phone with a squeal. "Mom, Martin invited me to the beach this weekend! Can I go?"

Her mother called back from the kitchen, muttering, "Martin again. You'd be better off meeting producers or shooting commercials."

Still, she relented. "Fine, go. Just make sure to remind him you want to act in one of his movies—and the lead role, if possible!"

At Scarlett Johansson's modest apartment, she spoke to her mother.

"Mom, Martin invited me to the beach this weekend. Want to come along?"

"Is he arranging the transport?"

"Yeah, he'll handle everything."

"Then you go ahead. You'll have more fun without me tagging along."

Elsewhere:

Hilton Hotel: "Martin, congratulations on your new film! Venice Beach? Sounds fun. Alright, I'll join."

Miranda Kerr's home: "Martin invited me out this weekend."

"Go ahead," her sister Chris replied.

Jessica Alba: "Sure, I'll come. Can I bring a friend? Britney Spears? Perfect, thanks!"

Dorothy Durst: "Dad, Martin invited me out this weekend."

"Just the two of you?" her father asked cautiously.

"No, other friends too."

"Alright then, but I'll drop you off."

"No need, Dad, Martin's arranging it."