As night deepened, guests from the premiere had long since departed, but the front of the ChineseTheater in Hollywood still shone brightly. Many reporters were camped outside, awaiting the appearance of the film crew.
Some reporters were prepared for an all-night stakeout. Murphy Stanton had appeared with his new girlfriend. Where would the couple go next?
After some time spent gathering information, the reporters had confirmed the identity of the girl: Gal Gadot, the Miss Universe contestant from Israel!
This was sensational news—a love story between a rising Hollywood director and Miss Universe was sure to attract attention.
A motorhome drove up and stopped in front of the Chinese Theater. Alert reporters recognized it as the vehicle Murphy Stanton had arrived in.
"They're coming out!"
Someone exclaimed, and all the reporters surged forward, cameras and video recorders at the ready.
Shadows moved inside the Chinese Theater, and as two figures approached, some impatient reporters started snapping photos. The rest waited, ready to capture the moment...
But to their disappointment, the couple emerging from the theater wasn't the glamorous duo of Murphy Stanton and Gal Gadot. Instead, it was two slightly overweight men.
"Seth Rogen and Jonah Hill..."
Though somewhat disappointed, the reporters surrounded them. Rogen and Hill struggled to break free from the press and boarded the black motorhome.
The vehicle slowly left the Chinese Theater.
Realizing no one else was coming out, the reporters understood: Rogen and Hill were a diversion. The couple they were actually interested in had probably already escaped.
Murphy drove a nondescript black Ford and had already entered the Malibu city area.
"No tails," Gal Gadot said, looking in the rearview mirror. "We must have lost them in North Hollywood."
They had left the theater through a side door, where reporters and paparazzi were also waiting. Murphy's new movie was a media magnet, and they weren't about to let him go easily.
However, having worked in this field, Murphy knew their style. He had deliberately circled around North Hollywood to shake off any followers.
The hotel where the Miss Universe contestants were staying appeared ahead. Murphy slowed down and warned, "You might face some trouble in the next few days. The paparazzi won't leave you alone."
"Don't worry," Gal Gadot smiled, unfazed. "I'm not a sheltered child. I can handle them."
Since the last preview, she had realized that accepting Murphy's pursuit would bring unexpected complications, one of her concerns.
Having agreed to be Murphy's girlfriend, she had prepared herself mentally. Being Miss Universe from Israel, she was already accustomed to media attention.
"Oh, by the way," Murphy remembered something and mentioned, "There's a bag in the back seat with the latest Motorola phone..."
"I..."
Gal Gadot started to refuse, but Murphy interrupted, "You don't have a phone here, and it's inconvenient to contact you. You can't expect me to call the main switchboard every time, right?"
He had always seen Gal Gadot as an independent woman.
She unbuckled her seatbelt, turned, and took the bag containing the phone, accepting it.
The Ford stopped at the hotel entrance. Murphy turned off the engine and went around to the other side of the car. Handing some money to the doorman for Gal Gadot, he was about to enter the hotel when camera flashes went off.
Dozens of paparazzi suddenly appeared, rushing over like bloodthirsty wolves, their cameras clicking nonstop.
Evidently, they had been lying in wait. They hadn't expected Murphy to drive an ordinary car and only noticed them as they reached the hotel door.
Seeing the reporters swarm over, Murphy casually handed the car keys to the doorman, whispering a quick instruction. He then took Gal Gadot's hand and entered the hotel, leaving the chaos behind the glass doors.
"They were waiting here for us!" Gal Gadot looked back in astonishment.
The paparazzi couldn't get past the hotel security and resorted to taking pictures through the glass doors. Murphy sighed in relief, saying, "Someone must have found out about your identity."
As they entered the hotel lobby, Gal Gadot looked back again. The reporters and paparazzi were still waiting outside.
"Be careful when you leave," Gal Gadot expressed concern for Murphy. "These people are crazy."
Murphy reassured her as they entered the elevator, "I asked the doorman to park the car in the underground garage."
He knew the rules of the game. The media wouldn't leave; they'd wait to see when he'd leave, wondering if he'd stay overnight at the hotel...
Although he wanted to stay, he had to be considerate of Gal Gadot, who was still competing in the pageant. He couldn't let her get disqualified over this nonsense.
Now that their relationship was public, it would be a national joke if anything went wrong.
Reaching the elevator, Gal Gadot kissed Murphy on the cheek and boarded the lift. "Take your time going back," she advised.
Murphy nodded, waved goodbye, and then took the adjacent security corridor to the underground parking garage, where the doorman had already parked his car.
"Mr. Stanton..."
The doorman greeted Murphy and returned his keys. Murphy tipped him generously, thanking him.
Murphy drove out of the hotel's underground garage, passing the front where some paparazzi were still waiting. He slowed down, honked, then accelerated southward. Through the rearview mirror, he saw the quicker paparazzi following on motorcycles.
He hoped his actions wouldn't cause too much trouble for Gal Gadot.
As for himself, having been a journalist, he wasn't bothered by them.
If they followed him 24/7, it wouldn't matter to him.
Moreover, he was a director, not a celebrity. Once the promotion for "Sin City" was over, the media would lose interest.
Hollywood was a practical place, and the paparazzi depended on it. Focusing solely on a director, who spent most of his time behind the scenes, would not be sustainable for them.
Returning to Santa Monica, Murphy didn't detour. He drove with a trail of paparazzi into the valley.
Near his home, he noticed more paparazzi waiting. Having been one of them, he could spot these guys easily.
His rented house had an external garage. He pulled up, opened the garage with a remote, drove in, and shut out the paparazzi.
Tomorrow's tabloids would undoubtedly feature gossip about him and Gal Gadot.
Inside the main house, Murphy changed out of his formal wear and took a shower. Just as he finished, the phone rang.
"Are you home?" It was Gal Gadot.
Wrapped in a towel, Murphy relaxed on the sofa, "Safely home."
"That's good," Gal Gadot sounded tired. "It's late, get some rest. I have to get up early."
"You sleep," Murphy checked the time. "I'll wait a bit longer."
It was almost midnight, and soon it would be Friday. Movie revenues were now quickly tallied thanks to the internet—convenient and fast. Precise figures might take time, but an estimate could be available shortly after midnight.
In this internet-saturated era, the film industry was undergoing significant changes. One of the most notable was the growing proportion of a film's budget spent on internet marketing.
Many movie companies had established dedicated online departments. The concept of "internet trolls" had become common, influencing public opinion and audience choices.
As time passed midnight, Murphy checked his phone and rested on the sofa. After about half an hour, his agent Bill Rossis called.
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