REVIVE: AMERICA 1995

The conversation they had in the car that afternoon made Wendy think Milo had really changed.

But by evening, when Milo drove his Ferrari out and said he was going to guide the actress who auditioned today in her acting, the fat man knew that this guy hadn't changed.
At least not in certain aspects!
Beverly Hills, Santa Monica Boulevard.
Rebecca Restaurant.
The melodious sound of a violin echoed through the restaurant, and the guests maintained their composure as they chatted in low voices. The candles burning in the olive-shaped glass jars created a rather quiet atmosphere in the slightly dim restaurant.
Looking at the young and handsome man opposite her, Monica gracefully cut a piece of tender beef and placed it in her mouth. She chewed slowly, her lips moving up and down rhythmically, extremely seductive in the slightly dim restaurant.
Soon, a trace of surprise flashed in her brown eyes:
"I'm really surprised, I can actually taste authentic home-style flavors here. This veal is so authentic."
"The ingredients at Rebecca's are airlifted from Italy every day. So you have to make a reservation in advance. Although the food will lose some of its freshness as a result, it's difficult for ordinary people to notice the difference under the chef's careful preparation."
Milo smiled slightly and took a sip of soup.
"Indeed, tasting such delicious food makes me think of my days at the University of Perugia."
Monica closed her eyes, tilted her head slightly, and then swallowed the food, her white neck rising and falling.
Just eating seemed so tempting.
She was exactly 30 years old this year.
Traditional Anglo-Saxon women would often age very badly at her age.
The famous Hollywood "pretty baby" Brooke Shields was a case in point.
Brooke Shields was stunningly beautiful when she was twenty. Her beauty was called the eighth wonder of the world.
But now?
She was born in the same year as Monica, but the last time Milo saw her at a banquet, even a lecher like Milo had lost all interest in her.
She looked too old.
In comparison, women of other races aged much slower.
The beauty in front of him should belong to the Mediterranean race within the white race.
To be more specific, she was of the Atlantic-Mediterranean type.
With black hair, brown eyes, and skin that was not as pale as the Germanic Anglo-Saxons of Western Europe, but more delicate.
Historically, the Roman Empire people who spoke Latin, the "Da Qin" in the Chinese mouth, were of her kind.
"I'm sorry, it's so delicious, it reminds me of home, I'm a little excited." She quickly came back to her senses and smiled, pursing her lips.
"It's okay, I understand. I feel the same way when I've been in a foreign environment for too long."
Milo raised his wine glass, "Why don't you tell me about your hometown? I remember it says in your file that it's a small Italian town called Castel. I'm sure it must be very beautiful, otherwise how could such a beautiful woman as you come from there."
"You're such a charmer." Monica covered her mouth and chuckled, her eyes curved, looking very pleased.
After all, women are still women.
Milo sipped his red wine and watched a hint of amusement flash in Monica's eyes.
Although he couldn't be sure if her previous memories of her hometown were acting.
But her earlier pleasure at his compliments must have been genuine.
The dinner ended on a good note.
After leaving the restaurant, they strolled down the street, which was much less crowded at night, enjoying the night view. The weather in late August in Los Angeles was pleasantly cool.
"Los Angeles is a beautiful city, especially at night. When you look down from a high place, the lights are twinkling, and it's easy to get intoxicated," Milo said.
They walked side by side on the street, without too much physical intimacy.
"That's true. There aren't as many tall buildings, and when you look down from a high place, it feels especially vast... By the way, why doesn't Los Angeles have as many tall buildings as other cities?" Monica asked curiously.
"Because Los Angeles is located on the Pacific Ring of Fire, an area prone to earthquakes, so it doesn't have as many skyscrapers as other cities," Milo shrugged.
"Oh~" She nodded, looking a little cute.
"Actually, relatively speaking, the environment and climate of Los Angeles are not as good as San Francisco."
Milo continued, "But in terms of living, I think the climate in the San Francisco Bay Area is one of the most comfortable regions in the world."
"Hmm." Monica replied.
But right now, she didn't really want to discuss with Milo whether Los Angeles was more suitable for living or if San Francisco had a better climate.
She wanted to know more about how she could get the role.
She didn't have the luxury of choosing where to live.
Monica currently lived in Carson City, a small town under Los Angeles.
Many lower-class Italians lived there, and she could get some care from her compatriots.
At least in this regard, Italians were relatively united.
Her financial situation didn't even allow her to live in North Hollywood, which was known as the Hollywood ghetto...
Thinking of this, Monica said softly, "Milo, I want to ask how my performance was today? You know, I was originally a model, and I studied secretarial work in college. I haven't studied acting, and I'm worried that it might be terrible."
"Your performance is pretty good, but after all, you're not from a professional background, and you have too little experience. When it comes to filming, you may need to do multiple takes to experience the character's feelings."
Talking about her acting skills, Milo remembered that she wasn't originally known for her acting, but for her beauty and sexiness.
So Milo said so.
"So, what do you think I should do?" Monica tilted her head and looked at him.
"Act more. There are many examples in Hollywood of people who are not from a professional background but have achieved success." Milo gestured. "And you've already done a pretty good job."
"So, you're pretty satisfied with me?" Monica suddenly stopped walking and looked at Milo with a smirk.
There was a hint of provocation in her brown eyes.
She was standing right under the streetlight, holding her arms in the white beam of light, letting the breeze blow her black hair, looking particularly alluring.
"Basically... you could say that," Milo shrugged, his tone so flat that it was hard to tell what he meant.
The atmosphere was good, and she suddenly looked up, "Then... do you, want to sleep with me?"
Unexpectedly, Milo's answer was equally direct: "Of course, I want to, desperately. Any man who doesn't want to sleep with you must have some kind of problem."
"Wow, you're... really honest." After a while, she said.
Monica was surprised. She thought Milo would be more tactful and pretend a little.
Because normally, even if men wanted it desperately, they would usually pretend to be less eager to make women feel they weren't that desperate.
Even if it turned out later that they weren't like that at all.
"Thank you, I think honesty is important in some situations," Milo smiled slightly.
"Hmm..." Monica gestured, her mouth slightly open as if she wanted to say something but didn't know how.
Finally, Monica's tone became a little sarcastic, "But I heard you have a girlfriend."
As soon as she said that, Monica regretted it a little.