Hollywood!
Andy muttered to himself, "In my past life, my favorite thing was watching American blockbusters. Why not find a future blockbuster and adapt it into a novel? Once I have the basic structure of the novel, I can just add content to it. It should be easy to compile a book."
A strange thought suddenly popped into his head, making his breathing quicken. A wave of dizziness washed over him. Andy braced his hands on the floor-to-ceiling glass, shaking his head in pain, trying to drive away the fragments of memory that were like dozens of high-speed trains rushing through his mind.
With a buzzing sound.
Andy struggled to stand up straight, tasting a hint of blood in his mouth. He wiped it with his hand, but his nose started bleeding again. He went into the washroom to wash away the blood, then looked at himself in the mirror with his face covered in water.
Just now, the fragments of memories in his mind went berserk and merged back into their original form.
That was the movie, music, TV series he had watched, and a dozen or so novels stored in his phone's memory.
What frustrated Andy the most was that none of the mobile games in his phone's memory appeared. Of course, even if they weren't in memory, he could still develop them, since he did have a hobby of developing games in his past life.
The first priority now is to maintain Andy's identity. Any sudden change could raise questions among those around him and his family. So, he should be a good-for-nothing writer, write a novel to make money, develop mobile games when smartphones are released, start a company, go public, raise money, and become a new IT tycoon. He might even be able to get his hands on those beautiful women he once fantasized about through the screen.
He wiped his thin, pale face clean, combed his dark hair, and looked at his features in the mirror. "He's still quite handsome, a bit like a younger version of Keanu Reeves."
Andy narcissistically stroked his face, his deep-set, lake-blue eyes radiating a profound light.
Standing at 188 cm tall but weighing only 60 catties, what kind of reckless behavior is this? Andy looked at the thin body, which, against the backdrop of his white skin, made him look like a terminally ill patient.
The most important thing right now is to get his body back in shape. Watching the yellow liquid gushing from his large, satisfying penis, Andy knew his body was on the verge of collapse.
Walking barefoot into the luxurious walk-in closet, looking at the dazzling array of clothes and shoes, Andy couldn't help but sigh, "The world of the super-rich is truly blissful."
Open all the drawers, and watches, glasses, ties, underwear, and socks are neatly arranged, filling every inch of the space.
Andy used to be nearsighted and always wore glasses. Although his eyes were fine now, he still found a pair of black-rimmed glasses with light brown lenses and put them on. He also took out a Cartier watch, put it on his wrist, and stroked it with great affection.
He casually picked up a rectangular box wrapped in black velvet and opened it. Inside was a black Montblanc fountain pen. As Andy took out the pen and opened it, he shook his head and smiled bitterly. What a damn rich bastard.
I changed into white CK underwear, found a gray Adidas hooded top and pants to wear. The pants were a little long and dragged on the ground. I grabbed some socks and stuffed them into a pair of white Adidas sneakers.
With shoes in his left hand and a pen in his right, he walked into the living room. A luxurious, large sofa almost surrounded the entire room, and the coffee table in the middle could almost be used as a bed. The carpet on the floor was exquisite, very soft, and had a great feel to it, since he had fainted on it for a long time last night.
He threw his shoes on the ground and walked towards the kitchen.
The villa had two floors, four bedrooms, five bathrooms, two fireplaces, a study, a gym, a games room, and a movie theater. It is surrounded by a large geometric swimming pool with more than a dozen tall palm trees, lawns, and various plants. The villa covers an area of approximately 700 square meters. The kitchen is spacious and open-plan with a kitchen island, which looks quite nice.
Opening the double-door refrigerator, it was completely empty except for the neatly arranged bottles of premium mineral water and a few cans of milk.
I took out a 1000ml bottle of Fiji Natural Mineral Water, opened it, and took a few sips. The cool feeling went straight to my heart. I wiped my mouth and looked at the various sticky notes on the refrigerator door.
He put down the bottled water, returned to the living room, took out the Nokia N93 from his pants pocket which was still on the floor, gave it a meaningful shake, and let out a sneer.
Next year, the bitten apple will release its first generation, and the death flag for Motorola and Nokia has already sounded.
Andy called for food delivery and ordered a very generous breakfast. When he asked for a medium-rare veal steak, the person on the other end of the line was slightly surprised before asking for the delivery address.
While gulping down a large bottle of mineral water, hoping the coolness would wash away the hangover, I turned on the large-screen LCD TV.
I switched channels several times, and all the news was about Neil Patrick Harris, the actor who became famous for playing Uncle Barney in "How I Met Your Mother," coming out as gay, and several Republican members of Congress resigning due to scandals.
Because of the fusion of souls, Andy found that his English proficiency had increased, appealing more naturally. Smooth.
I sat on the couch, swiping in-between channels, waiting for doordash.
When suddenly, the phone vibrated, and I picked it up from the table without even looking at it. I answered it listlessly and said,
"Hello, who is it? Why are you calling so early?"
"Damn it, you finally answered my call! This is Carl, fuck, where are you now?"
The deafening roar inexplicably irritated Andy.
"I'm lazing on my couch, wanna join me?"
After saying that, he hung up the phone. He checked the call log, which showed the agent's name.
The image of a middle-aged, bald, fat man appeared in my memory...
Ding-dong
Andy rushed out of the living room impatiently, opened the door, and watched as the delivery guy carried all the food through the messy living room and placed it on the dining table. He stuffed the prepared US dollars into the waiter's hand, watched the waiter happily receive the 20 dollar tip and then closed the door and left, before salivating at the food before him.
Pizza and steak filled my empty stomach. I sipped water, rubbed my belly comfortably, and let out a satisfied burp.
The loud banging on the door startled him. He slowly approached the door and, looking through the peephole, saw a lewd, fat face. Andy felt a sudden, inexplicable surge of disgust.
"Damn, Andy's negative emotions are really affecting me a lot!"
He patted his face to calm himself down, took a few deep breaths, and thought, "I need to stay calm. As long as I keep a straight face, talk less, and show impatience, it'll be fine."
"Open the door, Andy, it's me, Carl! Open the door now! I..." Carl looked at Andy, who opened the door with a cold face, and swallowed the roar that was about to come out.
Harry, no, it should be Andy, turned around and walked back into the house expressionlessly, ignoring the incessant chatter of his agent, and once again nestled into the large, soft sofa, looking utterly hopeless as he changed TV programs with the remote control.
Then comes the unskippable cut-scene where Andy watches his manager complaining non-stop.
Rubbing his throbbing temples, Andy, returned to the comforts of his bed at the second flood, having excused himself by feigning weakness.
Without the manager, the villa was truly quiet.
****
Mass Release 2/10
Reviews would truly help me.