Chapter 8

From April 2006 to June 2006, Andy spent almost two months in the villa, leaving only once to visit the Writers Guild of America (WGA).

At first, adapting the novel into a movie felt awkward and clumsy, but after he finished writing "Maleficent," it seemed he had found the knack. His inspiration burst forth, and his command of the language became more refined, which undoubtedly boosted his confidence. Over the two months, he worked almost non-stop, completing the first volume of "Dark Fairy Tale," copying the first volume of "The Hunger Games," and writing the outlines for five screenplays.

The purpose of his visit to the WGA was to submit the five screenplay outlines for the guild's safekeeping. By paying a fee, he could protect his global copyright and avoid conflicts with film companies. Even if the butterfly effect caused similar ideas to emerge, he could use the guild's records to ensure his position.

As for the original screenwriters from his previous life, well, that wasn't Andy's concern.

In this world, there was no such thing as fairness. Plagiarism and theft for money and fame were nothing out of the ordinary. Shameless? Andy could only chuckle. Who could blame him for taking advantage of his rebirth? Whether it was a passing deity or the Western God, he couldn't help but use these advantages to seize every resource he could.

As for the screenwriting profession, Andy had little interest in it. Screenwriters didn't have a high status in the film industry, as evidenced by the major strike in 2008. Although he was a registered screenwriter with the WGA, his only work was the adaptation of his own novel.

Being a screenwriter was just a stepping stone to Hollywood; he would never make a living from it. A famous screenwriter with a $500,000 annual income was nothing to boast about!

Ding Dong.

A few minutes later, the door creaked open, and a plain-looking middle-aged Chinese woman appeared, her eyes slightly unfocused and a strong smell of alcohol emanating from her. She looked at the fat man, Carl, who was leaning against the door frame and asked in a surprised and puzzled tone, "Mr. Vincent, why are you so drunk?"

"Andy... Andy, are you home?" Carl pushed away the woman's support and staggered into the villa, shouting loudly.

"Hey, man! What time is it? You're so drunk, why aren't you at home? Why are you here?" Andy, who had just finished his workout and was about to take a shower, heard the commotion and came down from the second floor. Seeing his drunk agent, he asked irritably.

Carl, who seemed about to fall over, suddenly became more agile as he saw Andy approach. He took a few steps forward and hugged Andy, crying out, "Andy, I've been fired! That damn bitch stole my clients and accused me of harassment. I'm finished!"

Andy rolled his eyes, pushed the sobbing Carl away, and helped him sit on the sofa. He said to the nanny in Chinese, "Aunt Liu, get him a glass of ice water."

"Sir, you shouldn't call me that. Just call me by my name! I'll get it right away." Liu Yan, the nanny, waved her hands nervously, still not used to being called "aunt" by this "foreigner" who spoke Mandarin better than she did.

Watching Liu Yan's flustered back, Andy shrugged and looked exasperated.

Liu Yan had immigrated with her daughter. She had run a restaurant in China and was skilled at making Sichuan cuisine. Although her daughter and son-in-law were middle-class and had no financial pressure, she felt bored at home due to the language barrier. So, she registered with an agency to find a job.

Fat Carl had been looking for a nanny who could cook Chinese food. He saw her profile, learned about her situation, and brought her to Andy's house. When Liu Yan saw the villa in the wealthy neighborhood, she was very nervous, fearing that her language skills would be a barrier. However, when she met Andy, he spoke perfect Mandarin, which surprised her. Seeing the young, handsome man in front of her, she felt more at ease. When Andy mentioned that he had a quarter Chinese heritage, Liu Yan felt a sense of kinship, and her nervousness subsided.

The interview went smoothly, and after a brief conversation, they agreed on the employment terms.

Taking the ice water from the nanny, Andy thrust it into Carl's hand, who was still sobbing, and slapped him hard.

"Hey, buddy, that's enough! You're not going to stop, are you? You lost your job, so what? It was bound to happen. I told you to be careful with your secretary."

"Cough... cough... damn, be gentle!" Carl rubbed his sore shoulder, took a sip of the ice water, and almost choked. Seeing Andy's smug, gloating expression, he said, "Damn, I shouldn't have come to you. I knew I wouldn't get any comfort from you!"

"Ha, you know me well. You brought this on yourself. Office politics will always backfire, it's just a matter of time!" Andy sat on the sofa, crossed his legs, and looked at Carl with a sneer.

"Is there anyone in CCA who's clean? It's better this way. Take a shower, get some sleep, and I have something to tell you tomorrow!"

"Ah? Little Andy, you're not going to fire me, are you? I only have you now, you can't abandon me!" Carl, perhaps thinking of something terrifying, turned pale and lunged at Andy on the sofa, looking devastated.

"Get off, you fatso! I'm not gay! What are you thinking? I won't fire you, damn it, you're so annoying. Stop it, go take a shower and sleep in the guest room upstairs." Andy was about to explode with anger, kicked Carl in the stomach, and watched the fat man sprawl on the carpet before turning and walking upstairs.

The night passed without incident.

"Never thought you'd wake up before me, Carl." Andy sat down at the dining table with a teasing expression, looking at the much more composed Carl and nodding to the nanny, Liu Yan, "Good morning, Aunt Liu."

Before either of them could speak, he continued in a teasing tone, "Are you done crying?"

Seeing Carl's red, embarrassed face, he said to Liu Yan, "Aunt Liu, can I have some beef for breakfast? I need to replenish my nutrients; I'm a bit weak."

"Sure, sir, I'll make you a stir-fried beef. Please wait a moment." Liu Yan set the bread, milk, bacon, and eggs on the table and smiled in response to Andy's request.

Andy watched Liu Yan take the beef out of the fridge and start cooking, feeling a bit speechless. He had only wanted a grilled beef patty, but now it was going to be stir-fried. Luckily, his house had a powerful exhaust fan, or the whole villa would be filled with the smell of cooking oil.

On the other side, Carl, like a starving ghost, started devouring the food on the table.

"Hey, you fatso, eat less! This is my breakfast!" Andy, annoyed, snatched the plate of food and roared.

"Tsk, miser!" Carl mumbled as he stuffed bread and bacon into his mouth.

Andy twitched his eye, repeatedly telling himself not to take the fatso seriously.

Breakfast ended with Carl's resentment as he watched Andy eat heartily. "Alright, fatso, come to the study. I have something important to tell you." Andy wiped his mouth with a napkin and patted his satisfied belly.

Carl followed him into the study, still not offended by being called a fatso. After they sat down, Liu Yan brought them two cups of coffee.

Andy took a sip of coffee and then took out the manuscript of the first volume of "Dark Fairy Tale" from the drawer, tossing it in front of Carl.

Carl almost spat out his coffee. He quickly put down his cup and looked at the stack of manuscripts with burning eyes.

"Wow, wow, am I dreaming?" Andy watched the overexcited Carl and calmly sipped his coffee.

"Oh, God! Little Andy has a new work!" Carl, holding the manuscript, danced around in excitement.

"Alright, alright, sit down." Andy raised an eyebrow, "This one is to fulfill the contract with Scholastic."

After a long breath, Carl's red, excited face showed relief. "I knew it, I knew it. Andy, you won't let me down. I was right; you're a genius, always have been... Andy, you've really changed."

"Everyone changes. I've just matured. I won't be lost or confused anymore. I'm not the same person I used to be." Andy waved his hand. "Alright, let's not talk about this. After settling things with Scholastic, I want to start a company to manage all the book copyrights and business operations. I don't have the time or energy to manage it, so I hope you can help me."

Carl's lips trembled, his eyes reddened, and he looked at Andy. Finally, he sighed, "Really, thank you, Andy. Although I really want to help you, I'm afraid my abilities are limited."

"When did you become so hesitant? This isn't the Carl I know. You tricked me into Hollywood for better opportunities, didn't you?" Andy couldn't help but frown.

"You're not worried about me getting writer's block again? Don't worry, look..." Andy threw the manuscript of "The Hunger Games" on the table. "This is a novel I have high hopes for. I believe it will definitely rank high on the bestseller list!"

"Alright, alright, hahaha." Carl's fat face showed a lecherous smile as he clutched the two manuscripts tightly, almost drooling.

"Alright, put 'The Hunger Games' aside. Here's a check for $100,000. Use it to register the company and rent an office. The company's name will be Mockingjay." Andy took the manuscript back from Carl, put it in the drawer, and then took out a pencil sketch of the mockingjay emblem from "The Hunger Games," showing it to Carl.

Carl looked at the bird spreading its wings in flames on the white paper and read the word below it softly.

"Mockingjay!"

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