Chapter 654: Advanced Aesthetics!

As Bruce maneuvered his sleek battery-powered car through the bustling streets of Hollywood, the tension inside was palpable. Martin's grip on the armrest tightened as he exchanged a knowing glance with Nicholson, who was stewing with resentment.

Pulling up to the gates of Paramount Studios, Nicholson was the first to bolt out of the car, his words dripping with pent-up frustration. "I want to settle accounts with Leo. He snagged that Oscar, but he's been ghosting us ever since. None of his promises have seen the light of day."

Martin, trailing behind, didn't try to dissuade him. Instead, he added fuel to the fire. "We've been left hanging. Leo's been gallivanting with Asian models for weeks, not a single script or role in sight. It's despicable."

Their footsteps echoed through the corridors of the newly minted "Wolf of Wall Street" studio, a venture backed by Leonardo's powerhouse, Kailu Pictures. The staff knew the trio's history, but none dared to intervene as Martin and Nicholson stormed towards their destination.

Ignoring all else, they made a beeline for the conference room. Nicholson barged in, Martin hot on his heels.

Moments later, the scene inside unfolded in chaos. A blonde bombshell raised her hand and delivered a resounding slap to Leonardo's face, ready to unleash her fury.

Reacting swiftly, Martin intercepted, deftly guiding the woman aside. With tension thick in the air, Nicholson joined the fray, their intentions clear – they could take on Leonardo, but outsiders were off-limits.

Confusion flickered in the woman's eyes as she glanced between them. Recognition sparked in Martin's mind – this was Margot Robbie, the actress famed for her roles like Harley Quinn.

Leonardo's explanation fell flat, but Martin and Nicholson exchanged a knowing look – Leo's penchant for pain wasn't news to them.

Apologizing to Margot, Martin extended a reassuring smile. Her response was gracious, tinged with humor and admiration for Martin's inadvertent heroics.

As Margot departed, she left behind a card, a subtle nod to her savvy maneuvering in the cutthroat industry.

With her departure, the tension eased, but the underlying currents of Hollywood intrigue remained, a reminder that in this world, alliances were fleeting and ambition ran deep.

With the conference room door firmly shut, Leonardo settled into a chair opposite Martin, his expression a mixture of curiosity and amusement. "So, Martin, you're intrigued by her? Last I checked, she's unmarried."

Martin's response was measured. "Leo, I've been thinking. Your revolving door of relationships isn't entirely your fault. It's the women."

Leonardo's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You're speaking sense for once. I didn't dump them, they dumped me."

Martin pressed on. "Your exes never understood your deeper desires. Take Margot's slap just now, for example. It's evident you have a penchant for submission."

He laid out his case, citing Gisele Bündchen as a prime example. "Gisele challenged you, pushed your boundaries. Despite the drama, you couldn't let her go."

Nicholson interjected with a regretful sigh. "Shame we missed Leo's bachelor party before he and Gisele got engaged."

Leonardo's retort was swift and unapologetic, flipping Nicholson the bird in jest.

Martin resumed his analysis. "Gisele, the one who treated you like a punching bag, left the biggest mark. Whereas the obedient ones were just fleeting."

Nicholson nodded in agreement. "It makes sense."

Surprisingly, Leonardo found himself pondering Martin's words. Maybe there was truth to them after all.

Martin cut to the chase. "Admit it, Leo. You're a masochist. Only a sadist can capture your heart."

Nicholson couldn't resist a jab. "Any workshops for that in Hollywood? I might sign up."

Leonardo grabbed Nicholson's collar, feigning offense. "You're not just plotting against me, but my family fortune too!"

Nicholson pushed his hand away. "We risked it all for your Oscar. And what do we get? No Asian beauty party."

Martin tensed, ready for action.

Leonardo defended himself. "Unexpected setbacks happen. It's not just for this guy's pleasure."

Martin was taken aback. "How's that my fault?"

Leonardo clarified, revealing his efforts to cater to Martin's unique tastes. "Your preferences made it tricky. I had to find Asian starlets who fit specific criteria."

Pulling out a dossier, Leonardo revealed a stack of photos. "And the options they gave me? Pathetic."

Martin scrutinized the photos, noting their striking similarities – a cookie-cutter image of supposed Asian beauty. Nicholson tossed the pile aside, raising an eyebrow. "Is your collaborator messing with you on purpose?"

Leonardo shook his head ruefully. "No, his team follows Western media's standards. I requested top-tier Asian models, and this is what I got."

Picking up a photo, he grimaced. "Clearly, this won't cut it. I'll have to put the party on hold."

Nicholson scoffed, gesturing to the discarded photos. "Forget it then."

Martin interjected, his voice firm. "Don't buy into Western or Eastern media's aesthetics blindly. Trust in Korean standards. They've mastered the balance between tradition and modernity."

Leonardo nodded in agreement, recalling his visits to South Korea. "Korean set the bar high."

Martin reassured them. "Just wait for my update."

Meanwhile, negotiations for the Samsung ad were underway, with Martin set to front the campaign alongside Korean celebrities. Director David Fincher was on board, ensuring a smooth production process.

Apologies flowed from Leonardo for the failed party plans, promising to cover all expenses. Martin quipped, "It's the thought that counts."

As they departed, lunch plans and future schemes filled their conversation.

Later that afternoon, Martin strolled through Disney Studios, noticing the buzz across the street. Trucks bustled in and out as the crew for Jerry Bruckheimer's "The Lone Ranger" set up shop.

Martin inquired about the commotion, learning that Bruckheimer's collaboration with Annapurna Pictures had brought the action-packed production to Disney's doorstep, a familiar haunt for the seasoned producer.