Model to Holywood

"Goodbye, Jen!"

At the café entrance, Luca waved as he said goodbye to Jennifer Aniston and her crew. He grabbed his car keys, ready to leave, but suddenly remembered he had forgotten something.

Right, Tony!

He took out his phone and called Tony, but after two tries with no answer, he had no choice but to go back into the café. Tony hadn't left early, so he should still be there.

After circling the café and not seeing him, Luca pulled out his phone to call again. Just then, he heard a phone ringing nearby. Following the sound, he found Tony passed out, snoring on the couch.

Looking at this sight, and then thinking of Aniston's well-trained assistants, Luca finally understood the meaning of professionalism—and how some people just don't measure up.

"Hey! Wake up!"

Luca held back his frustration and gently tapped Tony a few times.

"Come on, babe, let me sleep a bit longer," Tony mumbled, waving his hand as he turned over to continue sleeping.

"Babe?" Luca was livid. He was this close to taking off his size 10 shoes and slapping Tony with them.

Smack! Smack!

He slapped Tony a little harder. "Tony, wake up!"

"I said, leave me alone! These last few days working with that damn slave driver, I'm exhausted!" Tony shouted, sitting up abruptly. When he saw Luca, he froze. "Uh... Luca? What are you doing in my house?"

"What do you think?!" Luca, his face dark with annoyance, snorted and turned to leave.

"Ah, haha! Luca, I forgot we were still in the café. I thought I was at home!" Tony quickly followed, trying to explain.

Luca glanced at him. Tony looked pale, skinny, and overly delicate. He was about to scold him but decided against it. They'd been shooting commercials non-stop lately. Luca wasn't the only one exhausted; Tony had been running around just as much.

"Hang in there for two more days. Once we finish this ad shoot, you can take a couple of days off," Luca said, patting his shoulder.

"A couple of days off? Don't we have to head to L.A. to film right after? Where's the time to rest?"

"Los Angeles is a tourist city. Going there is like a vacation. A vacation is rest, isn't it?"

"..."

Tony rolled his eyes. Typical slave driver.

"Stop dawdling. Get in the car!"

"On it!"

Once Tony was in the car, Luca revved the engine and merged into the traffic, becoming a streak of light on the city's night streets.

After three more days of shooting, Luca finally finished his ad commitments for the year. But there was no time to rest. Lima had completed her tasks and returned to New York. Luca needed to be well-rested to pick her up, or face her wrath. 

On Saturday at noon, Luca drove to JFK Airport, waiting at the exit. The summer airport was busy, with a constant stream of people and cars. Luca sent a text, then stood in the passenger lane, looking towards the exit in the distance.

"Hey, move your car up a bit!"

A blue Maserati convertible pulled up, and the driver leaned out, shouting, "Can I park my car in front of yours?"

"Why?"

Luca asked, puzzled. "What difference does it make where you park?"

"Of course it matters! Your ugly car is so tall, it'll block my Maserati. When my girlfriend comes out, she won't be able to see it!"

The driver was a white guy in his twenties, a bit chubby, dressed in an expensive white suit. He was sweating profusely, clearly not in great health. Yet, there was a bouquet of red roses on his back seat, signaling his intention to impress someone.

Luca shook his head. If you're this weak, maybe don't go chasing girls. Why put your body through this?

Seeing Luca shake his head, the driver pulled out a hundred-dollar bill. "One hundred bucks for your parking spot!"

Luca adjusted his baseball cap and smiled. "Do I look like someone who needs your hundred bucks?"

"Three hundred!"

The driver pulled out a few more bills and waved them around.

Luca shook his head again. "No deal."

"I'll trade with you!" another driver nearby chimed in.

"No, I want his spot!" the Maserati driver shouted.

"I said no," Luca smirked.

"What will it take for you to agree?" the driver asked, frustrated.

Luca thought for a moment and pointed at the bouquet of roses. Lima had once mentioned she didn't like flowers, so he hadn't bought any for today, only bringing a cold drink. But, seeing this guy's elaborate display, he couldn't help but reconsider.

If this guy greeted his girlfriend with roses while Luca stood there with just a drink, even if Lima didn't care, everyone else would think the girl with the roses was happier and luckier.

He didn't want to shortchange Lima, even if it meant a little inconvenience for himself.

"Well, are you trading or not?" Luca asked. If not, he'd just drive off to buy a bigger bouquet and outshine the guy.

This wasn't about being petty—it was about maintaining balance.

The Maserati driver hesitated, looking back and forth between the roses and the parking spot.

"Three... two... one..."

"Fine, we'll trade!"

After a few moments, they swapped spots. The bright blue Maserati shone under the sun, but Luca's larger Ford truck, parked behind it, wasn't overshadowed.

"Hey, man, are you here to pick up your girlfriend too?" the Maserati driver asked, noticing Luca's roses.

"Yep. Thanks for the flowers, by the way. I nearly forgot," Luca replied.

"Pfft. Flowers don't matter. It's the car that counts," the driver boasted, patting his car with a smug smile.

Luca nodded in agreement. After all, what's the point of chasing girls without a nice car?

"Hey, buddy, I'm Jamie—Jamie Marzu. What's your name?" the guy asked, striking up a conversation.

"Luca!"

Luca extended his hand for a handshake, but the other person didn't react to hearing his name.

"Luca, what does your girlfriend do?"

Jamie Malzu leaned against the car and asked.

"Her? She doesn't have a job, just plays video games all day," Luca said with a slight grin.

"Really?"

Jamie smirked and said, "Do you know what my girlfriend does?"

Luca gave him a look like he was talking to an idiot—how would I know what your girlfriend does when I don't even know you?

Jamie felt a bit hurt by the look, laughed awkwardly, and said, "I'll tell you—my girlfriend is supermodel Ambrosio."

"Ambrosio?"

Luca was surprised—it turned out they had a mutual connection. "Ambrosio is your girlfriend?"

"Ha! What, jealous?" Jamie boasted.

Luca shook his head, "Not at all. My girlfriend is also a supermodel."

"Your girlfriend is also a supermodel? You're actually saying your girlfriend is a supermodel? Hahaha!" Jamie burst into laughter, losing his balance and falling onto the hood of his Maserati, making the car wobble.

"Haha, you? Driving this car, and you claim your girlfriend is a supermodel? Are you daydreaming?"

The others nearby laughed along with him.

Luca shrugged, not bothering to respond.

"Whoa! Look! A bunch of beautiful women are coming this way!"

Suddenly, someone shouted.

Everyone turned to the station's exit. A group of tall women was walking over, seven or eight of them, pulling small suitcases and strutting like they were on a runway, grabbing everyone's attention.

"Wow, they're so elegant. I bet they're models!"

"Look at those bodies—they've got to be models."

"I see Lima, Ambrosio, and Fernanda. They're all supermodels!"

All the men in the plaza craned their necks, wide-eyed, talking excitedly.

"Haha, Ambrosio, I'm here!" Jamie straightened his white suit and blue tie, spreading his arms wide as he walked toward them from a distance.

Luca smirked, holding a bouquet of flowers, and walked toward the honey-skinned beauty in the middle.

Lima was dressed in a white camisole with a black lace top over it, paired with plain pencil pants. Her whole appearance was both sharp and sexy, with a flawless figure.

"Luca!!!"

Lima screamed, dropping her suitcase, and rushed over in her high heels.

"Haha, Lima! Welcome back!"

Luca hugged her tightly, spinning her around in a dramatic scene that could've been from a romance drama.

"Haha, Luca, stop it! Put me down!"

"Hold on, just a little longer!"

"Hahaha!"

Lima's laughter and the spinning pair formed a somewhat bitter sight in the plaza.

"No way!" Jamie's eyes widened in disbelief as he saw them embrace.

It was hard to believe—a guy who couldn't even afford to buy a single rose had a supermodel girlfriend, and it was the stunning Lima. How did he manage that? Jamie shook his head, trying to suppress his confusion, as he turned to the other beauty.

"Hey, Ambrosio, welcome home!"

"Jamie?" Ambrosio paused for a moment. "Why are you here?"

"I'm here to pick you up!"

Jamie smiled awkwardly.

"That's not necessary. We've already broken up."

Ambrosio pulled her suitcase and walked forward.

"Ambrosio, let me explain. I was drunk last time and ended up in the wrong bed. I know I messed up. Please give me another chance!"

Jamie followed closely behind.

"You want me to give you another chance?"

Ambrosio glanced at him, then looked at Luca, who was holding a drink and a bouquet of bright red roses. She looked back at Jamie, standing there empty-handed.

"Is this how you're apologizing?"

"I—" Jamie spread his hands. I was going to bring roses.

At that moment, they overheard Luca nearby saying, "Lima, I swear to God, I found these roses. Didn't spend a penny."

Jamie winced. Damn it! Those were my flowers! I spent $180 on them. Now I regret it.

"Ambrosio, come over here. Check out my new ride—the latest Maserati. Isn't it stunning?"

Jamie pointed proudly to his flashy Maserati.

"Hmph!"

Ambrosio glanced at it and then turned to leave. "Luca, can I get a ride?"

"No problem, Ambrosio. Hop in!"

Luca packed Lima's luggage, then placed Ambrosio's on the car as well.

"Ambrosio, come ride with me. I'll take you for a spin!"

Jamie hurried over, trying to catch up.

"Go take a spin by yourself!"

Ambrosio snorted and climbed into Luca's Ford, slamming the door shut.

"Ambrosio! Ambrosio! Let me explain!" Jamie Malzu banged on the window.

"Hey, Jamie, stop banging. You'll break it!" Luca walked over, smiling.

"Luca!"

Jamie glared at him. "You're that Luca who got caught with Britney in a car, aren't you?"

"Watch what you say, or I'll sue you for defamation!" Luca shot back, annoyed.

"You're really Luca, but why are you driving such a beat-up car?"

Jamie asked, confused.

Luca shook his finger, "Doesn't matter if the car's old. What matters is size—it's gotta be big. You get it?"

"Big?"

Jamie frowned, trying to grasp the meaning, but before he could, there was a loud roar as the old Ford, billowing black smoke, drove off from the parking lot.

"Ambrosio! Ambrosio!"

Jamie snapped back to reality, quickly jumping into his car to give chase. He was confident his Maserati could easily catch up to that old Ford.

But the car got stuck behind traffic. By the time he made it to the street, the old Ford was long gone.

"Fuck! Damn you, Luca!"

end