Model to Holywood

"How was filming today?" 

"Not bad, it went pretty smoothly."

In the afternoon, a bright yellow taxi slowly drove along Wilshire Boulevard towards Beverly Hills.

In the back seat, Luca sat with his legs crossed, making a phone call.

"Has the preliminary results for the POLO competition come out?" 

"They have. Out of the four series, three made it through," Kate replied with a smile.

"Wow, three out of four, that's a pretty good result. Which one got eliminated?" 

"The black-and-white series." 

"Why? That series was very creative." 

"Yeah, but it was accused of racial discrimination."

"What?" 

Luca was stunned, completely taken aback that a clothing design could be accused of racial discrimination. He shook his head and laughed, "Maybe you guys should add some white to the black areas, and some black to the white areas, like the yin-yang symbol in Chinese culture." 

"No, the black-and-white series was inspired by whales. Changing it would lose the original intention of the design." 

"Okay then," Luca replied, not knowing much about design and dropping the idea.

"When are you coming over, Kate? I was thinking of inviting some friends from the crew for a party at my place, but it doesn't seem worth it without you guys."

"Brittany is in LA, right? Don't tell me you haven't brought her over to your place yet. You could ask her to help entertain your friends," Kate teased. 

Luca chuckled lightly. 

"She's been over a few times, but she's busy with rehearsals, so no time for a party. Besides, I don't want to upset Lima." 

"Alright, I see you're in a bit of a dilemma," Kate joked again before continuing. "It'll probably be two or three weeks before we come over. If we make it to the finals, it might be even later." 

"Should I hope you guys get here sooner or later then?" 

"Definitely later! If we reach the finals, we'll have a good chance to become real fashion designers and join the New York Designers Association. Then we can throw a big party at our new house!" 

"Sounds great," Luca chuckled.

"But we don't have a big chance. *Vogue* is a partner for the competition, and Anna Wintour is one of the four judges for the finals. The magazine is closely following the progress of the competition. If we win, it would be pretty awkward for *Vogue*, so our chances are slim." 

"I heard Anna is part of the club too. Maybe we could find someone to smooth things over." 

"That won't help. The club is just a loose organization that only bands together on women's rights issues. On everything else, there are major differences. Nina and I have already tried talking to people, but it didn't work. I'm just a writer for now and can't match her influence as the Queen of Fashion. She wants us to surrender, not negotiate." 

Kate's voice was calm and cold, but there was a strong sense of determination beneath her tone.

Luca smiled, "If that's the case, there's no need to negotiate. We can just wait for her to come to us."

"Dear, I love hearing you say that." 

"Yes, we're always together."

Luca smiled softly and hung up the phone. After a moment of thought, he called Lima. She had recently picked up a few more ads and was balancing work with school, making her even busier than Kate.

"Sir, we're at Canon Gardens. The fare is $68," the black driver reminded him. 

"Keep the change!" 

Luca stepped out of the car and walked south along Beverly Gardens. As he walked, he took in the surroundings, blending in with tourists thanks to the makeup Tony had applied.

Beverly Hills is a famous landmark in Los Angeles, with lush scenery in the summer. On its 6 square miles of land, there are more than 3,300 rare trees and 14 parks, earning it the title of "Tree City USA."

After walking over 500 meters, Luca reached the Beverly Hills mansion area. In a more prominent location, there stood a grand estate—Brittany's Beverly Hills mansion.

As Luca approached the estate, he noticed three tourists who looked like paparazzi hanging out on the street. They had cameras slung around their necks, smoking and chatting.

"I heard Luca is in LA." 

"This time, we've got to catch a picture of him staying overnight at Brittany's place." 

"Yeah, that would be big news."

While they were talking, they suddenly noticed someone standing beside them. The three men turned to see a man wearing glasses, sporting a scruffy beard, and looking pale, seemingly in his mid-thirties.

"Hey, I'm Lucas, an entertainment reporter from the New York Times. Mind if I join you guys?" 

Luca flashed a press pass. He had done some promo work for *Twilight* before, writing over a hundred well-reviewed articles, and had casually picked up a press pass as a freelance critic.

"Are you new to entertainment reporting?" one of the skinny paparazzi asked. 

"Yeah," Luca said, stroking his beard as he looked at the estate across the street. Behind a large lawn and a tall wall of trees, the house was hidden from view, providing excellent privacy. 

"Do you guys stake out here every day?" 

"Of course not. We only came because we heard Luca is in LA. Isn't that why you're here too?" another paparazzo wearing a hat said. 

"Of course," Luca replied with a smirk. "But what can you even get from just waiting outside? Why not take a risk and sneak in for some real shots?"

"Sneak in?" 

The three paparazzi looked at him as if he were crazy. 

"Trespassing is illegal, you know that, right?" 

"There are bodyguards in the yard. You could get killed." 

"Yeah, and there are like seven or eight guard dogs in there too!"

Luca shook his head and sighed. "I know it's dangerous, but Franklin once said that the secrets to getting rich are all written in the American criminal code. How can you make money if you don't take any risks?" 

"Good point!" 

"That's crap. If you've got the guts, go in yourself!" 

"Yeah, talk is cheap," they goaded.

"Fine, I'll go!" 

Luca scoffed and strode confidently across the street.

"Wow, he's walking with such determination, like a hero going to his death!" 

The skinny paparazzo watched in awe. 

"He's just acting tough. I bet he won't actually go in. Ten bucks says he won't do it," the guy with the hat said. 

"Look at him. Maybe he will..." 

"Then let's bet!" 

"No betting... wait, I'm in!" the skinny one suddenly said excitedly. 

"F***, does he have a death wish?" Hat guy's eyes widened as they watched the man push open the side gate and boldly walk in.

"Is this for real? Did he really go in?" 

"New York paparazzi are hardcore!" 

The three of them were in awe but couldn't resist following him. They had only taken a few steps when suddenly a fierce barking erupted from inside the estate.

"Woof, woof, woof! Awooo!" 

"Ahhh! Help! Help! Help!" 

A man's voice screamed in agony, crying out for help.

The three paparazzi were startled, their footsteps halting as they nervously backed away, their faces twitching in shock.

"Should... should we call the cops?" 

"What good would that do? He trespassed. Even if the bodyguards shoot him, he'd have it coming." 

"I thought he'd be an amazing paparazzo. Didn't expect him to meet his end here. Tragic." 

"Ha, New York paparazzi are just dumb."

Inside the estate, Brittany had rushed out after hearing the screams outside the mansion. She was shocked but quickly calmed down when she saw Luca on the lawn, playing with the dogs.

"Haha, it's nothing," Luca said, tossing some pieces of raw meat he had gotten from a bodyguard to the dogs.

Once the dogs quieted down, he walked over and explained.

"Hahaha, you're messing with the paparazzi outside?" 

Brittany laughed heartily. 

Luca shrugged. "Just a joke. Wonder if they fell for it." 

"I've got an idea," Brittany's eyes gleamed mischievously, her lips curling into a wicked grin. 

"What? Don't do anything crazy," Luca cautioned. 

"Don't worry about it. Now go take off that ugly makeup. You're not kissing me with that face," she said, waving him off and heading eagerly into the kitchen.

"Mary, bring me some blood!" 

Luca shook his head, hoping things wouldn't go too far.

"Hey, look! The estate's gates are opening!" 

Outside, the skinny paparazzo shouted. 

Hat guy put down his phone and looked at the gates, where a white Mercedes van was slowly pulling out.

"That's Brittany's assistant Felicia's car. Is Felicia heading home?" 

"Wait, look closely. There's blood on the trunk, and it's dripping!"

"What the f***!" 

The three of them stood there, dumbfounded. "Are they transporting a corpse? Isn't this a bit too intense?"

The car left the villa and sped off into the distance, leaving a few visible drops of blood on the street.

The paparazzo wearing a hat hurried over, dipped his finger in the bloodstains, and brought it to his nose for a sniff.

"Well?" the skinny paparazzo asked.

The one with the hat frowned, hesitated, and then bravely licked his fingertip. "Ptoo! Ptoo!"

"What happened?" the other asked.

"F**k... it's just ketchup!"

"Huh?"

(End of chapter)