"Andy, you can't go on like this anymore. You haven't published a work in two years, do you know that you still owe the publisher's book!"
"Even if you can't write those shit things, don't refuse the job I'm looking for!"
"The seventeen-year-old magazine invites you to write a blog. They like the tone of your speech. This is work. I am your agent. I am helping you!"
Andy. Smith looked at the bald-headed middle-aged man who was chattering all morning, his head buzzing, pressing his fingers against the temple that was about to explode, curled up on the sofa, and said painfully: "Well, okay, don't you, Carl I'm talking about it again, FUCK, my head is about to explode, no, I'm going to take a painkiller, and after a short sleep, I won't give you away."
Carl watched Andy Smith rubbing his temples, staggering up the stairs, raising his hands, his lips moving slightly to persuade him again, and wondering what he thought, put down his hand and sighed slightly, "Then take a good rest, then Rest, remember to call me."
Andy Smith lay down on the large, messy bed, his eyes closed, his face in pain, and recalling the past 12 hours, it was incredible.
"Coughing..."
Song Dawei climbed ashore from the icy swimming pool, vomited, patted his chest and spit water, and it took a while to recover. Limb weakness and headache.
Damn, where am I, wasn't it blown up by my mobile phone when I was calling with the four-star charging? Holding his swollen head, he wiped off the water stains on his face, stood up slowly, and walked into the house with the dim light in the villa to find the bathroom.
When the light was turned on, Song Dawei was stupid. An unfamiliar face appeared on the mirror in the bathroom, black hair, blue eyes like lake water, soft facial features, pale and sickly pale, 180-190 cm tall Look, but very thin and feel very uncoordinated. It's just an exceptionally young, revealing a greenness.
Just looking at the mirror in a daze, Song Dawei, who was already in his thirties, turned around dumbly out of the bathroom, stepped on the soft carpet with water stained feet, and lay down directly on the big white sofa in the living room. Grumbling: "Wipe, am I possessing it?"
As a veteran Internet bookworm, he soon realized what was happening, a burst of unspeakable emotions rushing into his heart, excited, frightened or agitated.
Suddenly in the memory of Song Dawei's head, there was a sudden pain, as if a red iron was stirred in the head, causing the brain to boil, and Aoao yelled and hugged his head and fell on the ground, constantly rolling, I don't know how long it will be. Blood ran out of the nasal cavity and passed out.
In a trance, Song Dawei consciously watched a gray cloud with a tiny current merge with a white cloud, and the current in it was decomposing the white cloud.
"Ah...what happened just now?" Song Dawei sat up inexplicably. When he woke up, he found that his head was still stunned, and he felt something sticky under his nose. It is nosebleed.
He quickly stood up and walked into the bathroom to look at the mirror. His nose bleeds all the way to the corner of his mouth. After thinking for a few seconds, he closed his eyes and recalled, and then suddenly opened after swallowing the saliva. His forehead was sweating again. Dizziness, the owner of this body is Andy Smith, 21 years old, a young writer who is famous for his teenagers, his mother is a Tiffany jewelry designer, his father is a lawyer, and he is a partner of a law firm in New York. He was delighted that the time now is ------ April 2006!
Looking at the large, messy and dim living room, Andy turned on all the lights. The decoration of the villa was simple and bright, with white as the main color, European-style furniture, and a sense of modernity. A huge family photo was hung on the wall behind the sofa. According to the information found in his memory, his grandfather is of Chinese descent, his mother is of mixed blood, he has a quarter of Chinese descent, and his family is very wealthy.
Andy was very smart since he was a child. He was proficient in piano and guitar and read various books. When he was sixteen years old, he wrote the first "Vampire Academy", became famous, and then wrote another "Paper Town". , Making him a very famous young writer in the United States.
Andy stripped off his clothes and soaked himself in the large white stylish bathtub, watching the steam humidify the surrounding three mirror walls, closing his eyes and continuing to recall. Until Paper Town was bought by a Hollywood film company, he was moved from New York to Los Angeles by his sly agent, and he also applied for the University of South Carolina.
Los Angeles, Hollywood.
In this world full of people who are eager to enjoy, time fools you, one day you are dreaming, and then your dream becomes a reality. It is a good time. If someone tells you, you made a mistake , Broken heart, learned a ruthless lesson, and when you indulge in meaningless woman's fragrance, here, in the warm California sunshine will start to become eroded.
In the year and a half he came to Hollywood, he lost his inspiration. Now he has encountered the so-called life crisis. In short, he can't write anything. This is bad, because he is a writer and a professional writer. Now he can't even write a damn sentence.
Women, marijuana, alcohol, drug abuse, messed up his original healthy body, deep eye sockets, pale and morbid complexion, and thin figure. Against the height of 188 cm, he became very weird. Finally, under the influence of marijuana and alcohol, he fell into the outdoor swimming pool and was drowned, which made Song Dawei cheap.
Putting on his pajamas, Song Dawei wandered in the villa in a trance, watching all the familiar and unfamiliar decoration and photos, looking at the spacious study room filled with books on the whole wall, the luxurious movie screening room, and the marble Billiard table and fitness room with various fitness equipment. . . . . .
"Really...like a dream." Andy looked at the floor-to-ceiling windows where the sun was shining and grabbed his messy hair. He spent the night sorting out his memories and checking the situation of the villa. Not sleeping all night, the reorganization of memory and the stimulation of marijuana and alcohol, not only did not make him mentally depressed, but rather abnormally excited.
Although Andy didn't understand why this was happening, he didn't take it seriously, thinking it was just excited after knowing that the possessor was crossing.
As mentioned before, this guy named Andy Smith, who became famous as a young man, had about 5 million royalties for selling books and film adaptation rights. The villa was bought by his parents for more than 2 million dollars. The red Ferrari F430 worth 500,000 US dollars was sent, and the Porsche CARRERAGT was 480,000 US dollars.
Although in the affluent area of Los Angeles, where millionaires are rich, this money is really not enough to see, not to mention that Andy spent a year and a half in the world, without inspiration, can't write anything, and the mental distress makes He was miserable, lavish, drunk with care, and he still doesn't know how much deposit he has left. The clear figures in his memory seem to be more than 2 million. It's fortunate that every year the publisher will Putting a new copyright fee into his account, it seems that his two works are included in the catalog of books recommended by the American education department for young people to read books, and sales will increase again. This is a fixed income, maybe it is The only good news that Andy Smith was pleased with before.
Anyway, I inherited everything, his identity, and life. This is Andy Smith.
Andy shrugged, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window and stretched his waist. Although his head was still aching, he began to think. So, what should I do now?
Andy, who was still thinking, narrowed his eyes slightly, blocking the dazzling sunlight, and licked some dry lips. An unexcited excitement enveloped the whole body, and it seemed that a rush of electric current made him tremble slightly.