"Earlier, on weekends, I used to ride my bike and go to the movies."
"A wonderful hobby: a combination of sports and art. Did you ride alone or with a girlfriend?"
"With a girlfriend. Riding alone is fine, but going to the movies alone isn't pleasant. People look at you strangely, as if they think you can't find a girlfriend."
Eric laughed:
"That's true, it's a bit like American-style school bullying."
"But now that you're so busy with work, you probably don't have much time for a girlfriend. Am I right? Does she complain often?"
Chen Xin, looking around, said somewhat embarrassedly:
"Actually, we broke up about two months ago. She couldn't understand me, and I couldn't meet her expectations."
"That sounds like a scene from a movie. Remember Friends—Ross and Rachel. But in your case, it was an inevitable conflict. You grew up, and she still has a student mindset. Sooner or later, it was bound to happen."
"Yes, I think so too. We had one argument, and she immediately decided to break up. It seems she didn't care much about me," Chen Xin said with a hint of indifference.
"I've decided that until I achieve success at work, personal relationships can wait. It's not important."
"By the way, there were a few girls in the company who showed interest in me, but I turned them all down. It's not that they're unattractive, but now is not the time."
"Yes, office romances only get in the way. But suppressing your feelings isn't right either. You've been two months without sex; how are you handling it?"
"After you drop me off at home, take Peter and go have some fun. He knows the best places to relax."
Driver Peter grinned:
"Yes, boss, I know all the spots in Los Angeles. No matter what kind of women, men, or transvestites you need, I can find them."
"It's late; I'd better go home and rest. There's a lot of work tomorrow," Chen Xin said, embarrassed.
Eric waved his hand:
"I'm giving you half a day off. Go have some fun. Otherwise, what's the point of earning such a high salary?"
"Besides, here in the entertainment industry, you need to learn this. When I entrust you with important tasks, don't tell me you can't handle clients. Many of them enjoy these kinds of entertainments."
...
Beverly Hills, Cooper Residence.
Upon waking up, Eric checked the time—it was already ten in the morning. Regular employees had to show up on time, but who said he couldn't sleep in a bit if he was the boss?
After washing up, he went downstairs and was surprised to find that his father was still at home.
"Dad, do you have the day off today? You look unexpectedly free," Eric asked as he entered the kitchen.
"I promised your mom to go with her to San Francisco to visit Joshua. Your brother hasn't been home since he became the team's main player."
"When are you leaving?"
At that moment, his mother came out of the kitchen, holding fresh homemade cookies that she had packed into a bag.
"Everything's ready, dear. We can go."
His father gave Eric a look that said, "Now you understand why I'm here?"
Yawning, Eric took a piece of cookie and, chewing, said:
"I think I'll go with you guys too. I haven't seen Joshua in a long time; that guy rarely even calls."
Emily looked at her father, but he firmly rejected the idea.
"You better stay at the company. In case of sudden incidents, someone needs to be at the workplace. We'll return in a couple of days and relay your wishes to Joshua."
"Alright, have a good trip."
Already at the door, Charlie suddenly stopped and turned to Eric:
"Almost forgot. Oscar sent an invitation. Although we don't have any nominated films, if you want, you can go."
"Wait, who was invited? You or me? Or both of us?"
"Both of us, but I'm already tired of these boring events. Especially when you're not on the nominee list and have to sit for several hours."
"Cameras are constantly rolling, and you have to force a smile, and then a crowd of people wants to have a drink with you to talk about investments. It's annoying, especially now when most attention is focused on the war in Iraq. The media will ask political questions, and if you say something wrong, they'll start hounding you."
"But you should go. Make useful connections; it will help with work. My connections aren't the same as yours. You need to build your own network."
His father's advice was sensible, and Eric nodded:
"Alright, I'll think about it."
...
March 23, the day of the 75th Academy Awards ceremony.
Even amidst the war, ratings were still promising high numbers—about 40 million viewers across America were expected to watch this annual event.
In Los Angeles, on Hollywood Boulevard, a crowd had already gathered in front of the Kodak Theatre. The red carpet stretched from the entrance to the theater on the second floor, about 60 meters long.
Is that a lot? Not really. Previously, the carpet extended all the way to Highland Avenue and was no less than 200 meters long.
That day in Hollywood, journalists from all over the world were converging. Even with restrictions on the number of media representatives, there were still many.
Due to the war, this year the red carpet was shortened, and fan access was canceled. Only journalists remained, creating a calmer atmosphere.
On both sides of the red carpet, journalists stood closely together, like sardines in a can, aiming their cameras at the center, waiting for the first stars.
Event organizers were doing their best to maintain order to avoid any incidents.
The Los Angeles Police Department imposed flight restrictions and deployed thousands of officers to strictly monitor the surroundings, ensuring the safety of celebrities and major taxpayers.
But just a block away, an anti-war march was taking place.
Crowds of people carried signs with slogans like "Bush Betrayed America," "Bush = Danger," "Oscar Demands Peace," expressing their desire for peace.
On the other side, war supporters sang the anthem "America, America" and held placards that read "God Bless America."
The country's division hadn't started twenty years later; it had always been here.
Amid the hustle and bustle, the Academy Awards ceremony began.
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