Hollywood.
I let the word sit on my tongue for a second, savoring it like a piece of expensive dark chocolate.
It's not just a place on a map; it's a pyramid scheme built on ego, cash, and bodies. In my last life, I was just another face in the crowd, watching from the cheap seats as the "chosen ones" got built up into gods only to be torn down and replaced when they got too expensive or too old.
But the universe just handed me a new seat at the table. And this time? I'm not here to play. I'm here to be the House.
A dark, not-exactly-heroic thought crossed my mind: If I'm the one who decides who's a star and who's a nobody… those "untouchable" A-listers won't seem so far out of reach anymore, will they?
My chest tightened. Turns out, whether it's the old Ethan or the new one, some cravings never change.
A silver-grey Ford—expensive but not "look at me" loud—pulled up to the curb.
I hopped out, tossed a coin into the meter, and smoothed out my suit. It was a custom fit, the kind of tailoring that makes you feel like you own the sidewalk. I pushed open the door to a quiet, tucked-away café that smelled like roasting beans and old money.
Andrew Carter was already there, slumped in a window seat looking bored out of his mind.
"What's the emergency, man?" Andrew asked as I sat down. He had that lazy, privileged smirk—the kind that said he'd spent his morning doing absolutely nothing. "Don't tell me you're in trouble again. I'm fresh out of bail money."
I closed the newspaper I'd been carrying and looked him dead in the eye.
"I want you to help me rob the Japanese."
Andrew stared at me for a beat, then let out a low whistle.
"Okay, points for style," he grinned, looking like a kid who just heard a firecracker go off. "Give me a time and a place. Do I need a getaway car, or is the LAPD gonna give us a medal for this?"
I slid the paper across the table, folded to the financial section. The headlines were all about the Nikkei index and the shifting tides of global capital.
"The whole US is doing it right now," I said, my voice steady. "I just want my slice of the pie."
Andrew glanced at the charts, his brow furrowing. "Since when do you read anything that doesn't have a centerfold?"
"I'm guessing you've been reading this stuff more than I have lately," I countered, leaning back. "Even if your old man wants you to play it safe."
Andrew's smirk vanished. "Get to the point, Ethan."
"I've got six million dollars," I said. "Liquid. I want you to run it. Every cent. You have total control."
The air between us went cold.
"...Are you high?" Andrew's voice was totally different now. Sharp. Alert.
"Do I look high?"
I crossed my legs and laced my fingers on the table. I knew the vibe I was giving off—calm, calculated, and completely dangerous.
Andrew rubbed his face, looking genuinely confused. "For a second there, I thought I was talking to a stranger. Seriously, Ethan, what happened to you?"
"I grew up," I said. It was the truth, just not the whole truth. I paused, making it sound like I was sharing a funny story. "Remember a few nights ago? When I told you I got a massive electric shock trying to fix my bedside lamp?"
"Yeah," Andrew frowned. "Did it fry your brain?"
"I saw the light, man. Literally," I laughed. "I was out for a minute, and things just... clicked. I realized I can't keep living like a parasitic loser."
Andrew looked at me, half-convinced, half-scared. "So you woke up and decided to be a Wall Street shark?"
"If you're in, I'm calling Richard Holloway right now," I said, my tone shifting to pure business. "Contracts, POA, risk disclosure—we'll do it all by the book. You just have to do one thing."
"And that is?"
"Turn that six million into sixty."
Andrew practically jumped out of his chair. "Ten-bagging it? Are you insane? The market is already peaking. The bubble is about to pop."
"Which is exactly why I'm talking to you," I interrupted. "Don't tell me two years at your dad's firm turned you into a coward."
"Nice try with the reverse psychology," Andrew scoffed. "But seriously—what's the endgame here?"
I looked him in the eye, one word at a time.
"I'm going to own Hollywood."
Andrew's face went totally blank.
"If you'd said that five minutes ago, I'd have laughed in your face," he said, tapping the table. "Now? I'm genuinely considering calling you a shrink."
"I've never been more serious."
Andrew took a deep breath, trying to process. "Okay, fine. Let's pretend you're not crazy for a second. Do you have any idea what that actually takes?"
"Money. A lot of it."
"Exactly. Stupid amounts of money," Andrew said, leaning in. "Even if you turn six million into sixty, that just makes you a mid-tier producer. You'll be gambling your life on every movie. One flop and you're back to sleeping on park benches."
"And if I don't flop?"
"Then you keep grinding until you can take the company public," Andrew's words started speeding up. "You don't even get a seat at the big table until your market cap is over twenty billion."
"I'll need connections, fame, and awards, too," I added, like I was checking off a grocery list. "The movies will handle that."
Andrew gave a frustrated, dry laugh. "You make it sound so easy."
"That's because I'm already ahead of you," I said, leaning forward until we were inches apart. "I'm writing scripts. And not just one."
"...Wait, what?"
"I'm going to use the scripts to kick the door down," I said, my voice full of certainty. "Once I've got my foot in, I'm directing. I'm building the brand. You just make sure I don't run out of gas before I hit the finish line."
Silence stretched between us for a long time.
Finally, Andrew sighed, a resigned smile hitting his face.
"You used to quote that Chinese proverb your grandmother taught you," he said, looking at me with newfound respect. "Step by step. You used to use that line to talk girls into bed."
"Now I'm using it on you," I shrugged.
Andrew threw his hands up in mock surrender.
"Fine. You win. I'm in."
I blinked. "Just like that?"
"Just like that," Andrew said. "I've got nothing to lose, and honestly? I really want to see how much chaos you can actually cause."
I stared at him for a second, then finally let out a real smile.
"You won't regret it."