The Box Office King of Hollywood

The yellow taxi stopped by a four-story building on Hollywood Boulevard. Matthew paid the fare, stepped out of the cab, and checked his phone—it was still early. He walked leisurely to the building, whose entrance was marked by a conspicuous red penguin sculpture and a small brass plaque engraved with the words "Red Penguin Service Company."

Recalling related information, Matthew strode into the building. A pretty receptionist approached him but paused upon recognizing his familiar face.

"Hi," Matthew greeted casually, "I have an appointment with Mr. List."

The receptionist nodded without obstructing him, "He should be in his office."

Matthew climbed the stairs and soon arrived at an office on the third floor. After knocking and hearing an invitation to enter, he pushed the door open.

"Ah, our big star has arrived!"

A voice tinged with mockery greeted him, "Big star, did you make enough money to throw a wild party?"

The office was occupied by three men: a bald Black man who had spoken, and two others—a portly man and a tall, thin middle-aged man.

"Made any big money?" the chubby man also jeered, "When is your masterpiece airing? Remember to invite us; we'll definitely come to support you!"

"No need to thank us!" the Black man added with his eyes nearly closed into slits, "Just provide us free movie tickets!"

He couldn't hold back his laughter any longer, joined by the chubby man who gently tapped the desk as if they had stumbled upon the funniest joke in the world. The tall man didn't speak but joined in the laughter.

Ignoring the jibes from the two, Matthew went straight to the tall man's desk and respectfully said, "Mr. List, I've arrived."

"Hmm," Mr. List acknowledged with a nod.

"I really regret not listening to you," Matthew knew to stroke Mr. List's ego as he managed the company's drivers, "I was duped and regret it terribly. I hope you can give me another chance."

"Young man..." Mr. List said expansively, "you need to learn from your experiences."

Matthew nodded eagerly, "Yes."

"Remember to stay grounded," Mr. List continued.

Matthew kept nodding, "Yes."

Seeing Matthew's compliant attitude, Mr. List said, "You worked hard previously. Now, the stock market is booming, and those jerks have quit to trade stocks, so we're short-staffed. I'll give you another chance."

"Thank you!" Matthew knew the latter reason was the crucial one, "I will work hard."

Mr. List pulled out two forms from a drawer, scribbled a few lines with a pen, and made a phone call before handing the forms to Matthew, "Go through the procedures."

Matthew took the forms and, recalling the process, headed to the second floor to complete his hiring paperwork.

With Mr. List having paved the way and since Matthew had previously worked there, it took less than half an hour to finish the hiring process. He returned to the third floor to notify Mr. List and prepare to find a place to stay before starting work the next day.

"No need to wait till tomorrow." Mr. List didn't let Matthew leave but instead tossed him a set of car keys, "You start working tonight. Any problem with that?"

With needs of his own, Matthew couldn't refuse and promptly responded, "No problem!"

Mr. List handed over a stack of documents to Shawn, "We're short-staffed these days..."

"I'm ready anytime!" Matthew appeared eager.

"Good," Mr. List nodded approvingly, "Johnny Lee Miller is a VIP client of the company; you'll be serving him tonight."

He then gave Matthew a few more instructions.

After leaving the third floor, Matthew grabbed some cheap food to fill his stomach and then headed to the drivers' lounge on the first floor to review the specific details of the job. Unlike his memory of the place, the lounge was empty, hinting at a staffing shortage at the company.

Sitting on a chair, Matthew opened the documents, important for that night's job.

The job was simple: a super-exclusive party at a Malibu beach villa hosted by a client named Johnny Lee Miller, involving one man and numerous women.

His task was to pick up models from various parts of Los Angeles and deliver them to Malibu, then return them the next morning.

After reviewing the materials and recalling his memories, Matthew understood these models were essentially high-class escorts. Red Penguin provided upscale party services and, by extension, operated somewhat like a pimp service.

The staffing shortage wasn't just due to the stock market boom, as Mr. List claimed, but also likely related to the nature of the job. Who would want such work if they had better options?

But for now, Matthew had no such luxury.

After a brief stay in the lounge, Matthew went to the underground garage, started a Ford van, and hit the road.

Initially cautious, his confidence grew with time, aided by his predecessor's memories that seemed to fully integrate with his own.

Mapping out his route, Matthew first headed to Westwood to pick up one person, then to North Hollywood for the remaining five, before driving straight to the affluent area of Malibu beach.

Upon entering Westwood, he navigated the Ford van through the neighborhood, stopping outside a pretty two-story house. He sighed as he viewed the expansive property, wondering when he could afford such a home.

"It's time to work hard!"

He honked the horn, and after a few seconds, a girl in shorts and a T-shirt came out, waving through the gate.

"Just ten minutes!" she called out.

Matthew rolled down the window and gestured an OK.

True to her word, the girl, now dressed in formal attire, appeared in ten minutes with a large bag, took the seat next to Matthew, and introduced herself with a bright smile, "Hi, I'm Rachel."

"I'm Matthew."

Matthew glanced at her. Rachel's long hair was tinted golden-brown, and she appeared even more vibrant and beautiful than the blonde woman he met that morning.

Starting the van, he drove towards North Hollywood, focusing on the road while Rachel, who seemed very sociable, chatted with him.

"Are you new?" Rachel asked curiously, "I haven't seen you before."

"I used to handle different tasks," Matthew replied, gradually increasing speed.

Rachel stared at him, "You're wasting your looks being a driver!"

"Really?" Matthew boasted playfully, "I think so too."

They both laughed, and after a moment, Rachel offered, "Interested in modeling? I can introduce you to an agency."

Matthew had no interest in that type of modeling, shaking his head, "Driving suits me better, I'm an experienced driver."

"Whatever," Rachel responded with visible disappointment, "How much can driving earn? Is it enough to support you?"

Matthew fell silent, not wishing to continue that line of discussion, but Rachel, perhaps sensing she'd crossed a line, changed the topic.

Their conversation shifted as Matthew learned more about her. Like him, she had come to Hollywood chasing a dream but ended up as a model by circumstance rather than by choice.

As they approached North Hollywood, a well-off residential area like Westwood, Matthew picked up the remaining five models, then sped towards Malibu.

The additional five models were taller and more voluptuous, ranging from Black to Caucasian, Latina, and Asian—Red Penguin seemed to consider its clients' varied tastes.

Somehow, Matthew felt these models shared a similar aura with the blonde woman from the morning.

As the sun began to set, they arrived at the opulent Malibu beach villa area. Even the smallest estate seemed unattainable on his current income.

The van entered a small estate, and after dropping off the girls—who took his number and inquired where he would wait—Matthew drove to the estate's entrance as instructed by the security guard.

He marveled at the luxury—the fountains, private pool, tennis court, front gardens, high electric fences, and heavily guarded gates all drew his admiration.

"When will I ever own a house like this?"

Leaving the estate, Matthew parked the van across from a small parking area, as per Red Penguin's rules, to be available on short notice.

As night fell, the distant sounds of music began to drift over from the estate, and Matthew watched as laser beams lit the sky, signaling the start of a wild party.

Thinking of the six young, beautiful women, Matthew couldn't help but feel envious.

Knock—Knock—

Startled, Matthew turned as someone tapped on his window. A woman wearing a baseball cap and carrying a handbag stood beside the van.

"Can we talk?"

It was a woman's voice!