[Chapter 447: A Test]
It was already ten at night in a regular apartment in Burbank, where Britney sat on the sofa, her small mouth still babbling about her experiences from the afternoon.
"...Miss Connelly even let us take a helicopter ride! The Shell Villa looked so beautiful from the air. Oh, and from the villa's glass curtain wall, you could overlook the whole ocean. In the evening, the surface of the sea sparkled -- it was even more stunning than in a painting. If I could grow up and afford a manor like that, it would be amazing."
"Don't dream too big. I heard that estate cost over fifty million dollars to build a few years ago, and because it's so famous, even if Eric Williams bid a hundred million, someone would definitely buy it. You'll never earn that much money in your lifetime," her older brother, Brian Spears, who was already in high school, said.
"A hundred million? Forget it!" Britney stuck her tongue out. Right now, she had a contract with the Disney Channel, and her monthly salary was only eight thousand dollars. A hundred million was an astronomical figure to her.
Jamie Spears, who pretended to watch TV while sitting on the sofa, had been listening to his daughter's story about her day. He kept thinking about the luxurious Rolls-Royce that had just dropped Britney off and fantasized whether he could ever own one. Hearing his son mention a hundred million, he couldn't help but click his tongue in disbelief.
Lynne Spears, holding her infant daughter who was still under a year old, smiled and said, "Who says it's impossible? If our Bit-Bit can become a big star like Michael Jackson, she could definitely make a hundred million."
Michael Jackson was the idol of the younger generation in America, and 16-year-old Brian Spears was no exception. Hearing his mother say that, he retorted, "Michael's a genius. How could Britney compare to him?" Once Brian saw the angry look on his sister's face, he quickly added, "But of course, if Bit-Bit wants to live in the Shell Villa, it would actually be pretty easy. She just has to become Eric Williams's girlfriend."
"Brian, stop talking nonsense. Your sister is way too young for that," Lynne Spears shot her son a disapproving glance.
Brian laughed and said, "I heard Eric Williams really likes Lolita. You all saw those news articles from two years ago."
"You're talking nonsense. Those were all meant to smear Eric," Britney chimed in, recalling the scandal from two years back. She still had a good impression of Eric, and upon hearing her brother say that, she immediately spoke up in defense.
"I'm not talking nonsense. If he didn't like you, why would he invite you to the Shell Villa? Bit-Bit, Eric Williams is a billionaire! If you became his girlfriend, our family could move to Beverly Hills instead of cramped up in this little apartment."
Britney felt somewhat speechless at that, but the thought of what her brother said made her cheeks flush. The young girl had a crush on Eric.
"Shut up, Brian. If you keep talking like that, you won't get to watch TV anymore. Go do your homework," Lynne Spears scolded her son in a voice that revealed her discomfort with Brian's obvious scheme to promote his sister.
The Spears family had just moved to Los Angeles from a small town and hadn't experienced too much of the selfishness that comes from the entertainment industry, so Lynne hadn't turned into the kind of peculiar mother who sold her daughter's privacy for profit by writing tell-alls.
However, Jamie Spears, who had been silent, felt a stir of interest deep down within him at his son's words.
...
The next morning, after the Spears family had breakfast, Jamie Spears prepared to drive Britney to a program recording. While Britney went back to her room to change clothes, Lynne turned to her husband and said, "Jamie, you should find a job. We can't keep relying solely on Brit's paycheck."
Jamie immediately showed an impatient look, clearly this wasn't the first time he had heard that comment.
Jamie Spears used to be a construction worker in a small town in Louisiana. While he was doing alright back home, coming to Los Angeles left him feeling useless. Moreover, Jamie was not a diligent person; the thought of working the same lowly jobs as those who crossed the border from Mexico repulsed him.
"Just wait a bit; once I save some more money, I plan to start a construction company," Jamie said dismissively as he hurried out of the house to the garage to get the car.
Lynne looked at her husband's back with disappointment, sighed, and when she saw Britney come out of the room, she went over to help her adjust her clothes before sending her off to the car, then returned to the house to do the chores.
After dropping Britney off at the Disney production lot, Jamie drove off and expertly guided the car to a nearby bar.
"Hey, Jamie! The usual?" The somewhat older bartender greeted him enthusiastically as he stood behind the bar.
"Of course," Jamie replied, taking a seat at the bar and casually greeting a few familiar patrons around him.
The bartender soon brought over a beer along with a plate of peanuts. The bar had a hanging TV that was broadcasting the news. One of the big news stories circulating at the time was about Firefly's acquisition of Disney.
Listening to the TV discuss Firefly buying Disney, a middle-aged man sitting on Jamie's left shook his head and marveled, "Six billion! It's amazing how a kid in his twenties can come up with that much money. What an astonishing sum!"
Another person immediately laughed and joked, "You, a lazy bum just collecting unemployment, wouldn't have a clue what six billion means! Let me tell you, if you spent five hundred thousand a day, it would take you more than thirty years to burn through that!"
Laughter erupted around the bar. Even though it was morning and the people hanging around weren't exactly respectable, the middle-aged man clearly felt the sting of everyone's ridicule.
The man, not annoyed by the laughter, turned to Jamie and asked, "Hey, Jamie, I heard your daughter's performing at Disney. Do you think she'll run into Eric Williams? If she gets picked by Eric for a movie, you guys would really be set!"
"Yeah, yeah! I just saw in the paper that the kid from Home Alone is doing so well," someone chimed in.
Driven by his vanity, Jamie boasted, "Let me tell you, my daughter was just at Eric Williams's estate last night!"
"Really?"
"No way, that can't be true."
"Jamie, stop joking. Eric Williams is never going to invite your little girl over."
As Jamie listened to the surrounding skepticism, combined with having downed half a beer, he felt his face go red and exclaimed, "What's there to lie about? My daughter came home last night in a Rolls-Royce!"
Seeing that Jamie didn't seem to be joking, a couple of curious patrons gathered around, bombarding him with questions. Jamie's vanity was satisfied as he recounted Britney's experiences at the Shell Villa. He then started spinning wild tales, further suggesting that Eric's invitation of several kids was because he had an interest in his daughter.
"Hey, Jamie, how old is your daughter? Why would Eric Williams look at her?"
"Yeah, right! She's just a little girl, ha ha."
"You never know. Rich people have all sorts of quirks. Eric is still pretty young. There's nothing weird about liking younger girls."
...
As the group continued their wild chatter, the conversation grew more vulgar and reckless. In a corner of the bar, a tired-looking young man in his twenties was initially annoyed by the loudmouths. But upon hearing Eric's name, he perked up.
The young man was Cole Anderson, a paparazzo for the New York Post. He had been waiting outside an apartment in Burbank all night to snap shots of a young star, but came up empty-handed. Passing by the bar, he planned on having a drink before heading to his hotel for some sleep, but he had unexpectedly overheard a juicy piece of gossip.
After chatting for an hour and having a few beers, Jamie, feeling a bit tipsy, decided it was time to leave. Just as he stepped outside the bar, he was stopped by Cole.
"Hi, Mr. Jamie Spears. I'm Cole Anderson from the New York Post. Can I take a moment of your time?"
Jamie replied, somewhat impatiently, "What's it about?"
"Well, I just heard that your daughter was at Eric Williams's house last night. Can I do a quick interview about that?"
Though Jamie had a few drinks, he wasn't completely intoxicated. His mind was still functioning, and hearing the journalist wanted an interview got his wheels turning. He held up two fingers and said, "Two thousand."
Cole was taken aback for a moment, then a smile crept across his face. Although Jamie was asking for a ludicrous amount, it was precisely the kind of greedy behavior that piqued a paparazzo's interest.
"Mr. Spears, two thousand is completely out of the question. I wouldn't even get two thousand for writing up a special feature. The most I can offer is two hundred."
Feeling insulted, Jamie raised his voice slightly, "Two hundred? Really? That's nothing! Eric Williams is a billionaire!"
Cole kept a patient smile on his face. "Mr. Spears, even if Eric Williams is worth hundreds of billions, that doesn't change my situation. I'm just a reporter trying to make a living by writing articles. Two hundred is already a fair price."
After some back and forth, they eventually settled on five hundred dollars. Instead of taking Jamie back to the bar, Cole took him to an outdoor cafe.
At Jamie's insistence, Cole handed over five hundred dollars upfront, then pulled out a recorder to start the interview.
As Jamie immersed himself in the joy of 'easy' money, even if he was sober, he would never catch the tricky questions that Cole had in store. After about half an hour, they finished the 'interview', both feeling quite satisfied.
...
Back at his place, Cole Anderson, having been awake all night, was filled with excitement. He spent the whole morning crafting a salacious tabloid piece, twisting the narrative of Eric inviting several kids from the Mickey Mouse Club to the Shell Villa. While he didn't outright state it, the language directed readers to interpret Eric as having 'Lolita complex.'
The New York Post had always thrived on emotional content, gossip, and the nasty business of uncovering celebrity scandals and secrets. The paparazzi working for them were skilled at dragging public figures through the mud without getting sued. Often, the celebrities being slandered had no recourse because it was a gamble as to whether they would even win in court, and the situation frequently worsened the original scandal.
This article quickly made its way back to the New York Post headquarters, undergoing review until it landed on the desk of the editor, Mars Allen.
Mars recognized at a glance that if this piece got published, it would surely cause trouble for Eric. However, unlike the reporters who merely gathered news, Mars had to consider far more.
America seemed to boast freedom of speech, with even the president being a subject of humor, but any reputable newspaper understood the topics that were off-limits and the landmines to avoid.
Take this report, for example; a few years prior, it wouldn't have mattered much. But now, Eric was not only the owner of Firefly but also had a close partnership with News Corp, which owned the New York Post. Moreover, Mars was aware of Eric's situation with Elisabeth. Although Mars thought the two wouldn't stand the test of time, who could predict the future? If he carelessly published the article and irritated Eric, risking a backlash from Murdoch could very well cost him his job.
However, since Eric was a topic of massive public interest, if the New York Post avoided mentioning him, they could lose a substantial amount of reader interest. After Firefly acquired Disney, it had been elevated to one of the big seven, and formed a competitive relationship with Fox. Perhaps Murdoch himself would consider a way to undermine Eric Williams.
After much consideration, Mars ultimately decided to pass the article to Murdoch himself to gauge his stance.
*****
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