Chapter 821: Taking A Gamble!

MGM Grand, Las Vegas.

The vibrant lights of the Strip faded behind them as Martin and Bruce slipped out the back door of the hotel. The media frenzy from the fan event still buzzed in their ears, but they were now in the quiet shadows. A sleek black Rolls-Royce Phantom, its polished surface gleaming under the sparse streetlights, awaited them.

As they approached, the chauffeur hurriedly stepped out and opened the door with a swift, practiced motion. Mene emerged from the vehicle, a touch of urgency in his voice. "Let's get going before the reporters catch on."

Martin slid into the plush leather seat, the cool interior of the car a stark contrast to the warm Vegas night. He glanced around appreciatively. "This car is nice."

Bruce followed, shutting the door behind him with a solid thud. "It's not just nice. This is the brand new Phantom, a limited edition. It's a serious piece of luxury."

Mene signaled the driver to start moving, then turned to his friends. "I don't know the exact price. It was a birthday gift from Celine."

Bruce's eyebrows shot up in genuine envy. "No woman has ever given me such an expensive birthday present."

Martin chuckled. "Maybe I should give Kim and Khloe a call."

Mene grinned. "And don't forget Judy! With your charm, Bruce, they'd be all over you."

Martin nodded. "Judy would definitely send something extravagant."

Bruce muttered, half-joking, "And then I'd end up with a broken pelvis."

Laughter filled the car as they sped through the city. The Rolls-Royce smoothly entered the affluent Samlin area, turning into a sprawling manor and coming to a halt in front of an elegant European-style villa.

Martin and Bruce stepped out, following Mene up the stone steps. The door swung open to reveal Celine Dion, her smile warm and welcoming. "Hi, Martin; Hi,

Bruce."

Mene joined her, draping an arm around her waist. "Welcome to our new home," she said, her eyes sparkling with pride.

Martin handed his gift to the waiting butler and took in the surroundings. The living room was a blend of classic elegance and modern touches, clearly renovated within the last year.

Tonight, it was an intimate gathering. Celine and Mene had invited no one else, making Martin and Bruce feel like the center of their attention. Celine, ever the gracious hostess, made sure Mene was always in the spotlight, subtly showcasing their strong bond.

After a sumptuous dinner, the four friends chatted amiably, the conversation flowing effortlessly. However, Martin and Bruce had another media event looming the next day, and soon it was time to leave.

Mene and Celine walked them to the car, their roles as perfect hosts evident in every gesture. "Safe travels, you two," Celine called as they climbed back into the Phantom.

The drive back to the MGM Grand was quiet, the excitement of the evening gradually giving way to fatigue. In the private elevator, Bruce broke the silence. "You know, Martin, you've done well for yourself, but Mene, he's the real winner in life."

Martin sighed, a wistful note in his voice. "If I'd had Mene's knack for things back when we were in Atlanta, maybe I wouldn't be living such a hectic life now."

Bruce chuckled. "Or you could just live like Scott."

Martin smiled, the elevator doors opening to their floor. "Maybe. But then, where would be the fun in that?"

Hearing the name Scott, Martin's thoughts drifted to his old friend Sophia. He turned to Bruce, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Bruce, you've got more personal experience with that."

Bruce winced inwardly, cursing himself for bringing up Sophia. Why had he mentioned her? Martin, not missing a beat, continued to needle him. "I'm heading to raise funds for Denis Villeneuve's 'Sicario' from Wu Maoting and Beast House Entertainment. How about you take on Beast House?"

Bruce shot him a look. "I'm your bodyguard, not your errand boy."

Martin chuckled, clapping Bruce on the shoulder as the elevator doors opened. "No, you're my manager. Time to step up." With that, he strolled out of the elevator, leaving Bruce shaking his head but grinning nonetheless.

After two eventful days in Las Vegas, the crew relocated to the misty streets of San Francisco.

Meanwhile, "The Town" was making waves in its second weekend at North American theaters. In May, the summer blockbuster season was in full swing, with major releases dropping nearly every weekend. This time, it was 20th Century Fox's "Star Trek 2" that stormed the box office, raking in a whopping $70.15 million and claiming the top spot.

"The Town" slipped to second place but held its ground admirably, pulling in $35.87 million in its second weekend. Including weekday earnings, its North American box office had comfortably surpassed the $100 million mark. However, its international performance was less stellar, bringing in a modest $18.92 million from over a dozen overseas markets in Europe and Latin America.

San Francisco, Bay Area.

Martin sat by the window of a chic seaside restaurant, his eyes drawn to the illuminated grandeur of the Golden Gate Bridge. The night view of the Bay Area was nothing short of spectacular.

Across from him, Elon Musk leaned forward with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I've got good news for you."

Martin pulled his gaze from the bridge, smirking. "Are you going to marry Amber Heard?"

Musk laughed, shaking his head. "No way! She's fun to hang out with, but marry her? Absolutely not!"

Getting back to business, Musk's tone turned serious. "The value of your investment in Tesla has nearly tripled."

Martin raised his glass, a broad smile on his face. "Congratulations to us."

They clinked glasses, Musk taking a sip before adding in his typical brash style, "All thanks to my stellar management."

Martin, who had reaped significant benefits from the investment, didn't mind stoking Musk's ego a bit. "Elon, you're a genius. Aim for the title of the richest man in the world."

Musk laughed heartily, his face lighting up. "And you'll be the richest man in Hollywood."

"I certainly wouldn't mind that," Martin replied, the thought of more wealth always appealing.

Musk leaned back, curiosity flickering in his eyes. "Any word yet on when Nolan's 'Interstellar' starts filming?"

Martin shook his head. "Not yet. But I'll keep my ears open. It's going to be a game-changer."

As they continued to discuss future projects and investments, the night stretched on, filled with the promise of new ventures and the thrill of what was yet to come.

Martin swirled his glass, gazing thoughtfully at the flickering candle on their table. "I haven't received the call to join the team yet. Earliest it might be is June."

A thought struck him, and he leaned forward. "By the way, I introduced your ex-wife, Talulah, to the crew. She's up for a supporting role of some significance."

Musk's eyes lit up with genuine appreciation. "Thank you," he said, raising his glass in a toast to Martin. "I plan to be on set then as well."

Martin's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're going to have a cameo?"

Musk grinned. "Part of the sponsorship deal. I'm playing a researcher in the joint command of NASA and SpaceX. I suspect I'll have a few lines, but knowing Nolan, I'll probably end up with just a few seconds of screen time, and the lines might be cut."

Martin's eyes twinkled with mischief. "You want a role with lines? I've got a few projects in the pipeline, Elon. Feel free to sponsor me."

Musk laughed. "Any space or futuristic sci-fi movies in there?"

Martin shook his head, smiling. "Not at the moment. Most of my upcoming films are more...schizophrenic, you could say."

Musk raised an eyebrow. "So, you're jumping on the Hollywood trend of playing quirky characters?"

Martin chuckled, understanding the unspoken question. "Not quite my style, no."

Their conversation flowed smoothly, touching on various topics as they enjoyed their meal. As the evening drew to a close, Musk leaned back with a thoughtful expression. "I might be having a wedding later this year or early next. How about being my best man?"

Martin smirked. "Are you sure? I might just steal all your limelight."

Musk's confidence was unshaken. "Even if Bill Gates and Warren Buffett showed up, they couldn't outshine me."

Martin's curiosity was piqued. "Wait a minute, didn't you just say you wouldn't marry Amber Heard?"

Musk laughed heartily. "That's right. I won't marry her. I'm just having fun. In a few months, I'll probably tire of Amber, break up, and then remarry Talulah."

Martin studied Musk closely, wondering if he was serious or just toying with the idea. Shaking his head, he admitted, "I really can't understand your thinking."

Musk's expression turned serious. "One more thing. I'm telling you this solemnly: I will remarry Talulah. If you've been involved with her, it ends tonight. We must remain strictly friends from now on. There are plenty of other women in Hollywood, married or not, who'd be easy for you to charm."

Martin remained calm, not feeling the need to clarify further. "Don't worry, Elon. Other than meeting her through you, Talulah and I have never had anything more."

Musk waved it off. "What she does outside of marriage doesn't concern me."

The conversation shifted to their investment in Tesla. The company was entering a rapid growth phase, and its stock price had been climbing steadily. However, securing more investment shares was becoming increasingly difficult for investors like Martin.

As the night wore on, the two men continued their discussion, a blend of business and friendship that was as electric as the cityscape outside their window.

Century City, Beverly Hills, Los Angeles.

Ryan Reynolds exited the elevator from the Fox Building, a large briefcase in tow. The weight of its contents matched the gravity of his thoughts. His agent, Cowell, was waiting in the lobby and immediately approached, taking the briefcase from him.

"How's the progress?" Cowell asked, eyebrows raised in anticipation.

Ryan didn't reply immediately. Instead, he led the way to the Starbucks on the same floor, ordering two cups of coffee. They found a quiet corner, and Ryan finally spoke, his frustration evident. "Little stars have no human rights; no one takes us seriously."

He opened the briefcase, revealing a scrapbook filled with posters, advertisements, and creative plans. The cover featured a man in a red hood, dual swords gleaming, Deadpool, as Ryan had portrayed him in Wolverine.

Cowell glanced at the cover, shaking his head. "That's the reality of it. If a big superstar had pitched this, Fox's top brass would have held meetings weeks ago."

Ryan had been pushing for a solo Deadpool movie for over a year, but with 20th Century Fox holding the X-Men rights, his efforts were hitting a wall.

Cowell leaned in, ensuring no one else could hear. "Did they completely dismiss the party idea you suggested?"

Ryan sighed, frustration palpable. "I've brought it up in private conversations, but it's like talking to a wall. I'm offering them incentives, and they won't even consider it."

Cowell nodded sympathetically. "Without the right connections or status, you can't even give gifts in this industry."

Ryan's voice dropped to a whisper. "Are you sure they're into... the younger ones?"

Cowell looked around cautiously before replying. "There's no doubt. The rumors are well-known, and I've confirmed it through reliable sources. But they don't trust you enough to take such an offer directly."

Ryan clenched his fist in frustration. "So, what do we do? Any other ideas?"

Cowell pondered for a moment. "We need a trusted intermediary. Someone they believe in to extend the invitation."

Ryan's eyes lit up with a sliver of hope. "Do you know such a person?"

Cowell sipped his coffee thoughtfully. "Yes. Have you heard of Michelle Bryan?"

Ryan's eyebrows shot up. "The famous madam? Yeah, I've heard of her."

"She's well-trusted in the industry and involved in this kind of arrangement," Cowell explained.

Ryan leaned forward, urgency in his voice. "Then contact her. We need her help."

Cowell hesitated. "It's going to be expensive."

Ryan took a deep breath, considering the bleak outlook if this failed. "I'll find the money. If I have to, I'll sell my house."

Cowell nodded, seeing the determination in Ryan's eyes. "Alright, I'll get in touch with her."

Ryan settled back in his chair, the weight of the decision heavy but necessary. He was willing to take a risk for Deadpool, even if it meant playing the game by Hollywood's harsh rules.