Paris Hilton swung open the door, and a world of pink unfolded before Martin's eyes.
This girl was an extreme pink enthusiast. Not just the walls of her room, but the furniture, clothes, and even the faucets were all pink. Everything in this room screamed the color she adored—pink, the color of beauty. Hey, hey!
"Where are the Transformers?" Martin asked, stepping into the room, curious.
As he looked around, he saw nothing but a room full of Barbie dolls. Even the dolls were dressed in pink clothes.
"Transformers?" Paris replied mysteriously. "Don't worry, there's more pink in this room than just those."
Martin feigned confusion. "What else is pink?"
Paris's lips curled slightly in a playful, almost mischievous smile. "My little husband, would you like to see it?"
Martin's lips twitched. This time, he wasn't pretending. Paris wasn't acting in a perverted way—this girl was genuinely living her truth as an eccentric, playful spirit.
He glanced at her once more, his eyes narrowing with a mix of bemusement and calculation. Well, it was a unique collection, so he'd indulge her this time.
A surge of magical power stirred within Martin, flowing like invisible tendrils that wrapped around Paris Hilton. Her posture shifted, her movements becoming oddly exaggerated, as though she were holding onto a transparent figure, and began—
Martin settled on the pink sofa, watching Paris's solo performance unfold like an impromptu, PG-17-rated drama.
Huh? Is it really... pink?!
Well, it was certainly cute.
More than an hour later, Paris lay on the bed, the lingering aura of pink still around her. She was fast asleep, a satisfied smile on her face. Martin quietly rose, walked to the bed, and left a note beside her before slipping out of the room with an elegant exit.
By the time Paris awoke, it was already well past six in the evening.
Her voice echoed through the room as she called for her little boyfriend, her expression still glowing with satisfaction from the afternoon's unexpected turn of events. How could Martin, at such a young age, have that much power?
After calling out a few more times, Paris finally noticed that she was alone. Her smile faded as a wave of panic washed over her. Martin's gone? Did he just leave me ? Was it all just a game to him?
Her eyes caught sight of the note on the bedside table. It was written in a beautiful italic script:
Oh! I wish you were all mine, all!
Your body, your beauty, the subtle taste of love;
Your hands, your kisses, those charming eyes;
Warm, crystal-white, ecstatic breasts;
Body and soul, in order to love me, give them all to me, without retaining a single bit!
Paris smiled sweetly, murmuring to herself, "Well, everything... I'll give it all to you. Not holding back a single bit!"
That night, after a productive meeting with Jobs, Martin was satisfied with the deals they'd made. Jobs had been particularly cordial and promised that Pixar would ensure Kung Fu Panda would be a classic. He also assured Martin that the Apple share purchase would go smoothly—he'd been eager to clean up some of the inefficiencies within the company. They finalized some contract details, and before leaving, Jobs gave a parting smile.
"Great. Wish us a happy cooperation!"
"Happy cooperation!" Martin replied, matching the enthusiasm.
After handling things with Jobs, Martin flew nonstop to a small island off the coast of Spain, where the crew of Little Island was filming.
"Martin!" Lindsay's excited voice rang out as soon as she spotted him on set.
The young girl, carrying the script absentmindedly, jumped up in surprise. She trotted toward Martin and jumped onto his back, whispering "Daddy" playfully in his ear.
Martin supported her with one arm as they walked past the crew, greeting everyone with effortless grace.
"Finally, you're here!"
"Hi, Martin! Long time no see."
The crew welcomed him warmly. After all, Martin had a significant financial stake in the film, with half the investment coming from his father (although it was technically Martin's money, with Grant only stepping in as the figurehead). The other half came from Miramax and Tom Cruise's production company.
"So, how's the filming going?" Martin asked as he set Lindsay down and approached Nicole, who had been observing from a distance with a soft smile.
Nicole nodded toward Lindsay before replying, "It's going really well. Lindsay's adapted to the role quickly and is very talented. As for me, I'm feeling great too."
Lindsay beamed at the praise, her pride showing.
Martin shrugged. "Seems like I'm the only one falling behind. Well, I'll catch up quickly."
True to his word, Martin dove into his role. He played Nicole's son and Lindsay's brother in Little Island, and his portrayal of helplessness and confusion came across vividly.
Though the film revolved more around Nicole Kidman's character, Martin and Lindsay still had a few impactful scenes. Nicole's performance was nothing short of exceptional—her portrayal of a tortured, determined character was both emotionally raw and powerful.
Sitting behind the monitor with the director, Alejandro Amamba, Martin couldn't help but praise her performance.
Alejandro nodded enthusiastically. "This is the most incredible crew I've ever worked with. It's supposed to be a horror film, but it feels more like something that could be an Oscar contender."
"Really, everyone did a fantastic job, including you, Martin, and Miss Lindsay. Truly great performances all around."
Nicole joined them with a smile. "Hey, Mr. Amamba, don't be unfair. Who says horror films can't win Oscars? Just look at Martin's The Sixth Sense."
Over the next fifteen days, Martin filmed his scenes, channeling the full power of his succubus skills. He finished his work efficiently, leaving a lasting impression on the crew. Afterward, he said his goodbyes and flew back to Los Angeles.
In L.A., Martin barely had a day of rest before he hopped onto another plane to New York. He was joining the crew of Hide and Seek to begin filming yet another project.