Atlanta, Peachtree Street, Headquarters of the Cult of Coca Cola
As soon as Martin stepped through the entrance of the headquarters, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. The front hall was abuzz with activity, a dozen cult members mingling under the imposing chandelier. At the center of it all stood Elena, striking in her crimson dress that commanded attention.
Beside her was Robert, his hair slicked back to a sheen, reflecting the light as if it were made of polished glass. His posture exuded confidence and authority.
Elena's face lit up as she saw Martin. She moved swiftly across the room, enveloping him in a tight embrace. "Martin, it's so good to finally have you visit our headquarters," she exclaimed, her voice warm and welcoming.
Martin returned her smile, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "I make it a point to come back every few months," he replied, his tone casual yet affectionate.
Sensing the need to move things along, Elena gracefully stepped aside, allowing Robert to approach. "Master," Robert greeted, his large head bobbing slightly as he spoke.
Martin hugged him with a firm grip, "Thank you, Robert, for every ceremony you conduct. They always bring me such peace of mind."
Robert's smile broadened, "It's my honor. With a calm mind, you can exert your full strength."
"Absolutely," Martin agreed. "A balanced mental and spiritual state is crucial."
Inwardly, Martin couldn't help but compare Robert's Coke ceremonies to the traditional rituals of burning incense and offering pig heads he had encountered in his previous life. Whether or not they truly worked, they provided a sense of completeness he couldn't ignore.
With a nod from Robert, the hall transitioned into a bustling scene of generosity. Martin initiated the grand distribution of gifts, each cult member receiving a token of appreciation from their leader. The headquarters was not just a place of rituals; it was a bridge to the Coca-Cola Group, managing the commemorative Coke collaborations that held significant meaning for the cult.
"Last year," Robert began, his tone business-like, "the video of you using the commemorative Coke to knock down the gunman at The Dark Knight Rises premiere went viral. Since then, sales of the commemorative Coke have surged."
Martin chuckled, "Looks like I might have to smash a few more heads with Coke bottles every year."
Elena, who had been listening quietly, couldn't hold back. "That's not funny, Martin. I'd rather you not profit from Coca-Cola than risk facing a gunman again."
Martin's expression softened. "Bad luck like that doesn't happen often. We're not living in slums dealing with traffickers every day."
Elena's fingers traced the chastity ring on her hand. "How many times have you had to do something like that?"
"Let's not dwell on it," Martin said gently. "Let's go home." He stood, pulling Elena to her feet and turned to Robert. "I'm planning a reception party here in Atlanta. I'll have Bruce contact you with the details."
Robert, always prepared, nodded. "Got it."
With that, Martin and Elena left the building, climbing into their car. Bruce, their trusted driver, started the engine, and they made their way back to the serene Northville community, leaving the bustling headquarters behind.
Elena gazed out the car window at the bustling Peachtree Street, her thoughts heavy. "Martin, next time you encounter a shooting or a robbery, can you avoid it? Don't rush in like some foolhardy hero."
She had bottled up these words for too long, and now they spilled out. "You're successful and famous now. Why risk your life like that?"
Martin met her eyes, understanding her concern. "I promise I'll try to avoid such situations. Believe me, I don't want to be in them. But sometimes, the danger finds me. When guns are pointed at me, what choice do I have?"
Elena's voice trembled with emotion. "Don't make me wear black to your funeral. If it ever comes to that, I'll curse you in front of the entire American media, using the most vulgar Atlanta slang I can think of!"
Martin's voice softened. "I swear, that day will never come."
As their car rolled into the serene Northville community and halted at the gate of their single-family villa, Martin stepped out, pausing for a moment.
Elena, already outside, nudged him gently. "Let's go inside."
Martin glanced at the lush green lawn. "Has Hall dug any holes recently?"
Elena chuckled. "No, he's been too busy with training and competitions. He hasn't had time for his little antics."
They approached the villa, Elena fishing out the key from her pocket. "Hall hasn't been back here for at least two months."
Martin caught the underlying meaning. "He bought a house?"
Elena nodded. "Not just Hall. Harris bought a new place too. But he still lives in this community and visits a couple of times a week."
Martin, familiar with the demands on professional athletes, remarked, "Athletes have such intense schedules."
Elena's gaze softened as she thought of her younger siblings. "It's all thanks to you that these three have come so far."
She added, "Harris mentioned he made quite a bit of money recently. He said it was thanks to you."
"He helped me with some asset acquisitions and sales. All above board," Martin assured her, stepping into the living room, which looked just as it had the last time he visited. His eyes fell on a photo of Elena and her siblings. "Is Harris coming over today?"
Elena shook her head. "He's in Savannah, meeting his girlfriend."
Martin's curiosity piqued. "Girlfriend? Another house? Is Harris thinking about marriage?"
Elena laughed. "Marriage? Harris changes girlfriends as often as Hall. They look up to you in that regard."
Martin, changing the subject, scooped Elena into his arms and headed upstairs. "Enough talk. The Master has to examine the Saint."
Reaching the top of the stairs, Elena paused. "Wait a minute."
Martin looked at her, puzzled.
With a deliberate motion, Elena raised her hand and removed her chastity ring.
Gray Film and Television Production Center, the largest film and television production hub in Georgia, buzzed with excitement. The crew of "Interstellar," boasting a staggering $180 million budget, had officially moved in, marking the occasion with an elaborate start-up ceremony.
The event was a veritable who's who of political and media figures. Several Georgia state legislators, including Kelly Gray, and the mayor of Atlanta were in attendance. Hundreds of media reporters from across the nation had descended upon the center, their cameras and microphones poised to capture every moment.
The presence of cinematic heavyweights like Christopher Nolan and Martin Davis alone was enough to create a frenzy. But the allure didn't stop there. The cast also featured luminaries such as Michael Caine, Jessica Chastain, and Anne Hathaway, ensuring that "Interstellar" was already being hailed as 2014's most anticipated film by entertainment media.
The opening ceremony featured a symbolic shot of Martin in a space suit, setting the tone for the ambitious project. Once the cameras stopped rolling, Martin changed into more comfortable attire and joined his fellow actors for a joint interview session with the media.
A reporter from the Atlanta Constitution seized the opportunity to ask Martin, "This is your third collaboration with Director Nolan. What prompted you to come together again?"
Martin paused, his eyes reflecting a hint of nostalgia. "I didn't attend the initial preview," he began. "But I heard Director Nolan was working on a new script. I visited him at his home, and we had an extensive two-hour conversation. By the end of it, we both knew we wanted to collaborate again."
Another reporter quickly followed up, "There were rumors about significant hurdles during pre-production. Some sources even claimed the production team was initially against you starring in the film. Any truth to that?"
Martin, ever the diplomat, smiled smoothly. "Absolutely not. I had Director Nolan's approval from the start. DreamWorks and Fox were on board immediately, and Warner Pictures has been a consistent partner of mine. There were no issues whatsoever."
The ceremony had another star that drew considerable media attention. Nobel Prize-winning physicist and National Academy of Sciences member Kip Thorne had been brought on as a scientific advisor, a testament to the film's commitment to scientific accuracy. Thorne had already influenced the production significantly, persuading Nolan to scrap the idea of spacecraft traveling faster than light.
Martin, admitting his lack of expertise in astrophysics, focused purely on his performance, trusting the crew to handle the scientific details.
The festivities continued at a nearby five-star hotel, where the crew held a lavish reception party. Martin, familiar with many of Georgia's and Atlanta's political figures, mingled effortlessly. The state's political landscape had been shifting leftward in recent years, a trend Martin noted as he navigated through the crowd.
Eventually, he found a moment alone with Kelly Gray. Leaning in slightly, he asked with a hint of intrigue, "So, when are you running for mayor of Atlanta or governor of Georgia?"
Kelly Gray smiled, her eyes twinkling with ambition. "Becoming mayor of Atlanta is within reach, but the governor's office... that's still a bit further off."
Martin grinned. "I'm looking forward to the day when you become the first female president of the United States."
Kelly tilted her head, studying him. "Unless you marry me."
Martin spread his hands in mock confusion. "What does marriage have to do with your political career?"
Kelly leaned in, her expression serious yet playful. "Have you ever seen a president run without a family?"
Martin sighed dramatically. "I wanted to marry you back then, but you weren't interested. Now that I'm not looking to settle down, you're teasing me again."
Kelly laughed, exposing his pretense. "Marry me? You were just looking for a comfortable long-term meal ticket! If I'd agreed back then, would Martin Davis, the American national hero and leader of the Coca-Cola Cult, even exist?"
Martin raised an eyebrow. "Should I be thanking you for my success then?"
Kelly chuckled. "You're welcome."
Martin shook his head. "I'll help you campaign when you run, but marriage is off the table. A man's precious freedom shouldn't be constrained by politics."
Kelly smirked. "If you want to be a playboy, just say it. No need for these convoluted excuses."
Martin grinned, unashamed. "I'm sorry, but I already am."
Kelly's eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and amusement. "Come with me tonight, and I'll bite you hard for that."
Martin, unfazed, shrugged. "I'm in the hotel room. If you're serious, come find me after you've freshened up."
Kelly nodded with a sly smile. "Okay, wait for me tonight."
Later, Martin wandered the banquet hall, looking for Bruce. He found him in a corner, visibly nervous as Sophia, her muscular frame barely contained by her dress, eyed him with interest. Martin, ever the opportunist, decided to leave Bruce to his fate and rejoined the crew.
The banquet wrapped up early since filming was set to start the next day. By nine o'clock, most of the guests had departed. Martin returned to his room, enjoying a refreshing shower. Just as he finished, a knock echoed through the room. Kelly Gray slipped in, now in casual attire, her demeanor more relaxed.
She quickly pulled out her cell phone and called Louise Mayer. This was an old tradition for the trio. The conversation quickly escalated into playful banter, with Louise's voice filling the room with curses until her phone battery died, leaving them in a comfortable silence.