Entertainment: Starting as a Succubus, Taking Hollywood by Storm

After fleeing his previous residence, Michael Gargiulo moved to North Hollywood and rented a small, old apartment.

He then used a forged ID to secure a job walking dogs in a nearby affluent neighborhood.

Strangely, the Hollywood Police Department did not issue a warrant for Michael's arrest.

Michael's father provided testimony explaining that the reason Tricia's DNA contained traces of Michael's was because he had encountered her walking alone on the street that night. He claimed Michael had gotten out of his car to offer her a ride home.

During this interaction, their hands had made contact, which could explain the presence of Michael's DNA under Tricia's nails. Additionally, the Chicago police had collected DNA from Tricia's nails by removing the entire nail and surrounding material.

Michael's father's testimony was corroborated by a young man named Anthony, who claimed to have been in the car with Michael and witnessed the incident.

Meanwhile, at the crime scene of Ashley Ellerin's murder in Los Angeles, no fingerprints or DNA belonging to Michael were found.

As a result, the case was shelved.

Although the police had not entirely abandoned their search for Michael, their efforts were far from proactive.

After all, Ashley was just an ordinary person, and her case wasn't deemed worth the substantial cost in manpower and resources.

*(Note: This is a real case. If we follow the original timeline, Michael Gargiulo would go on to commit additional crimes in 2003, 2005, and 2007. His victims included a mother of three, a single mom, and an unknown actress.

Eventually, on April 28, 2008, Michael failed in an attempted break-in and attack due to the victim's fierce resistance. The police collected blood he left behind at the scene and conducted a DNA match.

On June 6, 2008, Michael was arrested. When apprehended, his first question was, "Which police department are you from?" Clearly, his crimes had been so numerous that he didn't know which one had caught up with him.

During his years evading justice, Michael worked a variety of jobs, including odd labor, security work, and even appearing in an experimental film directed by an indie filmmaker. While working as a nightclub bouncer on Sunset Boulevard, he trained rigorously in boxing and martial arts, becoming muscular and physically formidable.

After his trial, the media dubbed Michael "The Hollywood Ripper.")*

"Morning, Charles."

"Morning, Wentworth."

Two men walking their dogs exchanged greetings in the early morning.

This was the third time Wentworth Miller had seen Charles. The man was handsome, tall, and strong, looking like yet another aspiring actor trying to make it in Hollywood, much like himself.

Since they'd run into each other, they decided to walk their dogs together and chat.

"Hey, man, any work opportunities lately?" Wentworth asked tentatively.

"Does working as a bouncer at a bar on Sunset Boulevard count?" Charles said with a laugh.

"No, no, I mean acting jobs."

"Oh, you're an actor?"

"Well, aren't you?"

Charles chuckled again. "Yeah, I am—a small-time actor, though. Just not many good opportunities."

Wentworth Miller nodded in agreement. "Exactly. It's so hard. Without connections to the big shots, guys like us don't stand a chance."

Thinking of big shots, Wentworth recalled the business card Martin had given him and the one he had handed back in return.

It had been over a year, and Martin still hadn't called him. Had he forgotten?

Several times, Wentworth had almost called Martin himself. After all, Martin had mentioned working out together.

But he worried it had just been a polite remark. If he called and annoyed Martin, he might lose even the slightest chance he had.

So all he could do was wait.

As they walked and talked, Wentworth didn't notice how Charles's eyes frequently lingered on the nearby houses.

Whenever a woman appeared near one of the homes, Charles's gaze would light up with excitement.

Returning to Los Angeles for the Harry Potter premiere, Martin was greeted by Lindsay as soon as he stepped off the plane.

"Martin! Mean Girls is in the works, and guess what? I'm going to be the lead actress!" Lindsay squealed excitedly in his ear.

Martin glanced at her lips, which were getting dangerously close. He had an impulse to kiss her but restrained himself.

After all, they were in a public place. A hug was fine—it was a normal way to express friendship in America. A kiss, however, would be too much.

Feeling the pleasant softness of Lindsay's hug, Martin thought to himself, The little girl's all grown up.

"How about you come over to my place tonight, and we'll talk about the script?" Martin said with a sly smile.

"Yay! Wait, I'll call Jessica and Dolores!"

Martin watched as Lindsay excitedly called her friends. This girl never seemed to understand jealousy.

That evening, three girls gathered at Martin's Beverly Hills mansion.

Their chatter filled the house, as noisy as three hundred ducks.

From a distance, Beal looked on enviously and said to Heather, "I wish I could join them."

Heather glared at her and said angrily, "The other day, after Nicole and Charlize left, I told you to go for Martin, but you chickened out. Now what's the point of saying this?"

Inside, Lindsay handed Martin a stack of headshots and resumes. "Look at the actresses we've cast! So many pretty girls!"

Jessica and Dolores rolled their eyes, thinking, As if Martin doesn't already have enough women.

Martin flipped through the profiles—Rachel McAdams, Tina Fey, Amanda Seyfried, Lacey Chabert, Lizzy Caplan… It was indeed a lineup of beauties.

Rachel McAdams and Amanda Seyfried, in particular, showed promise for a future in Hollywood.

"Oh, by the way," Lindsay said suddenly, "some of the male actor auditions are tomorrow. Are you coming?"

"No, I'm too busy. Wait—"

Martin suddenly remembered something and picked up the phone to call Jeff Raymond.

"Jeff, call this number—" He recited a string of digits.

His exceptional memory allowed him to recall details as clearly as if they were in front of him, even a phone number from over a year ago.

"Have Wentworth Miller audition for Aaron Samuels in Mean Girls."

On the other end, Jeff asked, "Martin, are you planning to give this guy a big break?"

"Something like that. Let him try a small role first. The guy's got potential," Martin replied.

Jeff chuckled. "Lucky guy. Looks like I'd better sign him before someone else does."

"That's up to you."

After hanging up, Martin noticed the curious looks from the girls. He raised his hands defensively and said, "Come on, don't give me that look! I don't like men. I just think the guy's got potential."

Dolores walked up behind Martin and said, "Really? Then we need to test you to make sure you're not turning."

She hugged him tightly and called out, "Girls, come on! Strip him!"

The night grew wild.