"John, you cannot carry on like this. You haven't published anything in two years, and you still owe the publisher a book!"
"Even if you can't write that shit, don't refuse the job I find for you!"
"Thirteen Magazine invited you to publish a blog. They prefer the tone of your voice. This is work. "I am your agent, and I am here to help you!"
John. Smith gazed at the bald middle-aged man in front of him, who had been talking all morning. His brain was buzzing. He pressed his fingers on his temples, which were about to explode. He curled up on the sofa and muttered in anguish, "Okay, Kurt, please don't say it again, fuck, my head is going to explode, no, I'm going to take a painkiller and then take a nap, I won't send you away."
Kurt noticed John Smith massaging his temples and wobbling up the stairs. He raised his fingers and moved his lips slightly to persuade once more. He had no idea what he was thinking of. He dropped his fingers and groaned slightly, "Then you have a good rest." Get some rest, and remember to call me.
John Smith lay down on the enormous and filthy bed, closed his eyes tightly and wearing a pained expression on his face. Looking back on the last 12 hours, it was absolutely unbelievable.
"Ahem..."
Wang Xiao climbed out of the frigid swimming pool, vomited, rubbed his chest, and vomited water. It took him a bit to regain his senses. Weak limbs and splitting headache.
Damnit, where was I? Didn't my phone blow up as I was making a phone call while holding a charging Samsung?
He held his hurting head, wiped the water marks on his face, stood up slowly, walked into the house with the villa's feeble lighting, and located the bathroom.
As soon as the light was switched on, Wang xiao was astonished. A odd visage appeared in the bathroom mirror. Black hair, eyes as blue as lake water, gentle features, sickly pale complexion, height: 180-190 It appears to be a centimeter, yet it is so thin and feels uncoordinated.
It's simply that he's quite young, with a sense of youth.
Wang Xiao, who was already in his thirties, turned around and walked out of the restroom with dull eyes after staring blankly in the mirror. He stepped into the smooth carpet with water-stained feet and sat down right on the large white sofa in the living room. At the same moment, he said, "Damn it, am I possessed by time travel?"
Wang Xiao, who was engrossed in recollections, felt a searing pain in his head, as if a red-hot iron was stirring inside his head, forcing his brain to boil. He shouted, then fell to the ground, grasping his head and rolling around. He had no idea how long it took; blood gushed from his nose, and he passed out.
In a trance, Wang Xiao witnessed a gray-white cloud carrying a little electric current unite with a white cloud in his mind, with the electric current disintegrating the white cloud.
"Ah...what happened...just now?"
Wang Xiao sat up inexplicably. When he awoke, his head was clear, despite the fact that he had just fainted from pain. He felt something sticky under his nose, and touching it caused nosebleeds.
He hurriedly stood up and entered the restroom to look in the mirror. His nosebleeds extended all the way to the corners of his mouth. After a few seconds of thought, he closed his eyes and remembered. He opened his eyes abruptly after swallowing, sweating on his forehead, and another burst of sweat. Feeling disoriented, the owner of this physique is John Smith, a 21-year-old writer who rose to fame at an early age. His mother designs Tiffany jewelry, and his father is a lawyer and partner at a New York law company. What excites him the most is that the current time is -----April 2006!
John turned on all of the lights in his enormous, dirty, and dark living room. The property was decorated simply and brightly, with white as the main color and modern European-style furniture. A large family photo hung on the wall behind the sofa. According to his memories, his grandfather is of Chinese heritage, his mother is of mixed race, he is a quarter Chinese, and his family is very affluent.
John has been extremely intelligent since he was a toddler. He plays piano and guitar and enjoys reading. When he was sixteen, he penned his first novel, "Vampire Academy," and became instantly popular. Then he wrote another "Paper Towns". His works made him a well-known young writer in the United States.
John removed his clothing, immersed himself in the enormous white and sophisticated bathtub, watched the steaming water vapor moisten the three surrounding mirror walls, closed his eyes slightly, and continued to recollect.
Until the paper town was acquired by a Hollywood film company, he was duped by his shady agent into moving from New York to Los Angeles and applying to the University of Southern California.
Los Angeles and Hollywood.
In this world full of individuals who want pleasure, time plays tricks on you. You have a dream, and suddenly it becomes a reality. We had a nice time. If someone tells you that you made a mistake, have shattered hearts, learned bitter lessons, and delight in the useless aroma of women, it begins to decay in this warm California sun.
He has lost his inspiration in the year and a half since moving to Hollywood, and he is currently undergoing a so-called life crisis. To put it simply, he cannot write anything. This is problematic because he is a professional writer.
Now I can't even compose a single sentence.
Women, marijuana, booze, and drug abuse had completely wrecked his once-healthy body. His sunken eye sockets, pale and sickly face, and lean body contrasted sharply with his 188 cm height.
Finally, under the influence of marijuana and alcohol, he slipped and fell into the swimming pool outside the house, drowning. Only then could Wang Xiao reap the benefits of his soul.
Wang xiao wandered around the villa in a daze, looking at all the familiar and unfamiliar decorations and photos, the spacious study room with books on the entire wall, the luxurious movie screening room, and the Fitness room, which had a marble pool table and other fitness equipment. . . . . .
"It's really...like a dream."
John scratched his unkempt hair as he glanced at the floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the sunlight. He spent the entire night going through his recollections and assessing the situation at the property.
After not sleeping all night, the restructuring of his memories, as well as the stimulation of marijuana and alcohol, did not leave him unhappy, but rather incredibly thrilled.
John didn't understand why this happened, but he didn't take it too seriously, assuming it was just the excitement of discovering he was possessed and traveling through time.
As previously said, John Smith rose to prominence at an early age. He made approximately $5 million in royalties from the sale of books and movie adaptation rights. His parents paid more than $2 million to buy him a villa and a car that his grandfather purchased for him. The gift was a red Ferrari F430 worth 250,000 US dollars, while the grandfather gifted a 460,000 euro Porsche Carrera.
Despite the fact that many millionaires live in prosperous areas such as Los Angeles, this quantity of money is insufficient. Furthermore, John has been drinking excessively for the past year and a half. He lacked creativity, couldn't compose anything, and was mentally sad. He was in misery, extravagant, and intoxicated without shame. He doesn't even know how much savings he has left. The numbers are still fresh in his mind, and there appear to be more than 2 million left. Fortunately, the publisher will pay a new copyright fee to his account each year. It appears that both of his works have been featured in the American Department of Education's catalog of recommended young reading books. Sales will rise again, providing a steady income. Perhaps it was the only positive news that made John Smith feel relieved in the past.
Regardless, I got everything from him, including his identity and life. I am John Smith.
John shrugged, stepped to the floor-to-ceiling window, and stretched out. Even though his head hurt slightly, he began to think. So, what shall I do now?
John, who was still pondering, blinked slightly to block the bright sunlight and couldn't help but lick his parched lips. An incredible level of exhilaration filled his entire body, like if a burst of electricity had passed through him, causing him to shiver slightly.