Model to Holywood

Compensation was definitely required—Tom Hanks said so. However, it wasn't him who would be paying; instead, it would be deducted from the little guy's allowance.

The two custom-made glass pieces had a wholesale price of $150, and with the labor costs, the total came to $180.

Little Theodore Hanks received a $200 monthly allowance. After deducting $180, he was left with just $20. Poor Theodore counted on his fingers, tears streaming down his face. He was heartbroken. The adults were so shameless, even taking money from a kid. The world was too cruel.

Aside from little Theodore, Mr. Hanks also shared some responsibility. As a parent, he hadn't kept a close enough eye on things. To make amends, he invited Luca over for a beach barbecue at his house.

Luca didn't refuse.

Upon arriving at the Hanks' home, Luca felt a little embarrassed. Earlier, he had complained over the phone that his new house was too big. But when he saw Mr. Hanks' mansion, he finally understood what a big house really was.

Luca's own mansion covered 0.6 acres, but Mr. Hanks' place sprawled over 1.6 acres.

The Hanks' mansion was situated at the foot of Mount St. Vincent.

The property had mountains, water, woods, a sports field, a stable, a half-mile-long beach, and a private dock—something that would make anyone envious.

The mansion was sold five years ago for $18 million. Now, it was worth over $20 million, a figure Luca could only dream about for the time being.

The barbecue was held on the beach, with the sunset, ocean, sand, pier, and children running around.

The party was lively. Besides Luca, everyone else was a member of the Hanks family, including Mr. Hanks' wife, Rita Wilson, their son and daughter, and some cousins.

There was singing, dancing, and chatting. At one point, Luca showed off some fancy soccer moves, earning a round of applause.

Around six in the evening, after the beach barbecue, Luca was ready to leave.

"Hey, big guy! You're not leaving!"

Mr. Hanks' youngest son, Theodore, stopped him.

"Haha, Theodore, what's up?" Luca crouched down and asked.

Next to him, the middle-aged Mr. Hanks chuckled.

"You said you were going to buy me a Baskin-Robbins ice cream. You're an adult, and adults can't go back on their word."

The little guy spoke seriously.

Luca smirked. What he had actually promised was an ice cream, but he never specified Baskin-Robbins. A regular ice cream costs a few cents, but Baskin-Robbins ice cream was $20. This kid was sharp.

"Alright, but before you get your ice cream, you need to answer a question."

"What is it?" Theodore blinked.

Luca pointed to his face and smiled. "Theodore, take a good look at me and tell me again—do I look like a bad guy?"

"You still do!" the little guy firmly nodded.

"Haha!"

Mr. Hanks couldn't help but laugh. "Theodore, this is Mr. Kelly, our new neighbor. He used to be a soccer player, a really good one. You saw it earlier, didn't you?"

"Well, Mr. Kelly, in honor of your soccer skills, I'll consider you a good guy for now. If you can teach me how to kick the ball high and catch it again, I'll consider you a *real* good guy."

"Hahaha!"

Everyone laughed at Theodore's negotiating.

"Alright, little guy. When you have time, you can come find me. I'll show you how to kick the ball high."

"Is that a promise?"

The little guy extended his tiny fist.

"Haha, yes, it is!"

Luca bumped fists with him, ruffled his curly hair, and then said his goodbyes, leaving the Hanks' mansion.

He had walked over with Mr. Hanks.

Their homes were less than a mile apart, both in the 117 Villa District. They were the closest neighbors, though other big-name stars like Spielberg, Angelina Jolie, and Julia Roberts lived nearby too. Some of them, however, only bought houses for investment or tax purposes, not to live in.

After a leisurely ten-minute walk, Luca arrived at the entrance of his villa. To his surprise, there was a red Ferrari parked outside, with local plates.

He walked around the car and saw a girl slumped in the seat, her face covered by a golden baseball cap, sleeping peacefully.

Golden hair, a delicate chin, luscious lips, and a voluptuous figure—there was no mistaking it.

"Britney?"

Luca was surprised.

Knock, knock~

He tapped on the car window. The girl inside stretched, her cap slipping from her face to her chest. Sure enough, it was Britney Spears.

"Hey, Luca!"

Britney rolled down the window, annoyed. "Where the heck were you? I've been waiting for ages."

"Why didn't you call me before you came?"

Luca chuckled.

"I wanted to surprise you, but you weren't here. So I waited and fell asleep."

Britney yawned.

"Has rehearsal been exhausting?"

Britney was preparing for her tour and had been rehearsing in LA lately.

"Of course! I've been rehearsing since 8 a.m. today until 4 p.m. After that, I came to find you, but you weren't home, and I was so mad!"

"My bad. I was at Tom Hanks' place. You really should've called, silly girl!"

Luca playfully pinched her nose.

"You're a big dumb idiot!" Britney bit his finger and quickly spat it out. "Ew, why do you taste like charcoal?"

"Haha, we were just having a barbecue."

"Really? I want some barbecue too!"

"No problem!"

Britney hadn't eaten yet, so Luca headed into the kitchen to whip up a yogurt fruit salad, a veggie wrap, and some grilled meat.

The kitchen had all the necessary ingredients and tools, so it wasn't difficult to prepare.

Sizzling~

On the rooftop terrace, Luca was grilling skewers of meat and onions on the electric stove, drizzling them with lemon juice. The air was soon filled with a rich aroma.

"Smells amazing!"

Britney, fresh out of the shower and wearing a white shirt with her half-dried hair, appeared on the terrace, smelling of soap.

"Try this. It's my first time grilling. Let me know what you think."

Luca set a plate of grilled meat on the table.

"Your first time grilling?" Britney raised an eyebrow, grabbing a skewer and taking a bite.

"Ah, it's spicy!"

She stuck out her tongue.

"Spicy? I only used a little chili powder. Here, dip it in this blueberry sauce, and it won't be spicy."

"Alright, let me try. Hmm, not bad at all!"

"Then have some more. You seem to have lost some weight."

"No, I haven't. Feel for yourself."

"Alright!"

"Wait, stop. Your hands are greasy!"

"Haha~"

After finishing the barbecue, they lounged on the sofa, gazing at the distant ocean. Above them, the stars were scattered across the sky. They ate grilled meat, sipped cold beer, listened to music, and shared whispered conversations.

"Luca, this place is amazing," Britney said, resting her pale legs on the couch. "You've got the Santa Monica Mountains at your back, the Pacific in front, without the noise of Santa Monica or the crowds of Beverly Hills. It's close to LA, and the scenery is beautiful everywhere. I'm thinking about buying a house here."

Luca thought for a moment. "In recent years, the weather has been unpredictable. There are frequent fires in the Santa Monica Mountains to the north and rising tides in the Pacific to the south. The property value here doesn't have much potential for growth."

"I'm not buying it as an investment. I want a home."

"Well then, this place would be perfect."

"Alright, I'll start looking for a real estate agent tomorrow."

Luca smiled. He remembered seeing in the news that both Britney and Lady Gaga owned mansions in Malibu. Now Britney was here—could Gaga be far behind?

After a few beers and more conversation, Britney eventually dozed off on the couch.

Luca gently stroked her hair and carried her petite frame downstairs.

(End of Chapter)