Hollywood:Starting out as an MV director

"Hey, buddy!"

Raymond's voice boomed over the phone. The background noise suggested he was at a lively bar.

Ethan shrugged. Ever since Raymond struck it rich, he seemed inseparable from nightclubs and bars. Gone was the cautious man Ethan first met, back when Raymond was just trying to ensure the smooth release of his album.

"What's up, Raymond?"

"My new song is recorded! I'm celebrating! Whoa, buddy, want to join me?"

"I've got things to do, can't make it today." Ethan was genuinely weary of the American party culture. Ever since winning his award, he had lost count of how many party invites he had received. He'd used his mom and two younger brothers as excuses more times than he could remember.

"Alright, but man, this new song of mine is the real deal… it's like a fresh start!" Raymond's trademark boastfulness made Ethan chuckle.

"Didn't you say the same thing about the first track of your album?" Ethan couldn't even remember that song's name, only the mixed techno-duck sound assaulting his ears.

"Haha, but this time it's different, buddy. I understand pop music now! I really refined it." Raymond's laughter mixed with the clinking of glasses and the sound of alcohol being downed in one gulp.

"Man, this feels amazing! You're missing out, Ethan. The girls at this new bar are stunning!"

"Next time, show me these stunners. You know my standards are high."

"Of course, no problem at all! Alright, I'll have Bardman contact you later. Let's collaborate again and blow up all of New York!" Raymond's tipsy rambling brought a smile to Ethan's face. He preferred Raymond's forthright personality to those of brooding types.

After hanging up, Ethan left Richard's villa.

Well, technically, it wasn't even Richard's villa—it was a party house of unknown ownership, likely tied to someone in Hollywood.

The next day, Anne Hathaway invited Ethan over to discuss a magazine cover shoot. It was a promise Ethan had made before, though not without compensation.

As for the payment, it went without saying.

The magazine in question was the iconic Vogue.

Founded in 1892, Vogue was published in 26 countries and regions worldwide, covering fashion, cosmetics, beauty, health, and more. Each region had its own editions.

Anne Hathaway was set to appear on the cover of the New York edition. The photographer had already been chosen, but Anne specifically requested the editor-in-chief to use her own photographer.

However, Vogue was no upstart like T Magazine. Their selection process was strict, and they demanded to see sample photos before confirming anything. They also provided the cover theme.

"Summer vibes?" Ethan raised an eyebrow as he looked at the close-by Anne Hathaway.

"That's right, just those two words," Anne nodded. She wore a light pink camisole, her hair cascading over her shoulder, and stared at him with her large, doe-like eyes.

"Hmm, no problem." Ethan thought for a moment before deciding on the approach. "Do you have swimsuits?"

"Swimsuits? Of course." Anne stood up, her bright and lively demeanor shining in the sunlight like a playful fawn in the woods.

"Then I'll need to make a selection. I'll go buy some props, and we'll shoot by the pool." Ethan planned to replicate a famous Vogue cover once shot by Natasha Poly—a classic that had earned widespread acclaim and would undoubtedly work even today.

When Ethan returned with his camera and waterproof case, he found Anne had already changed into a blue swimsuit, lounging on a chair, waiting for him.

"Ethan," Anne stood up. The one-piece swimsuit clung tightly to her skin, highlighting her curves.

Ethan gave her an appreciative glance and said, "The style is good, but the color isn't vibrant enough. Do you have others?"

"Of course. I'll go change," Anne turned to leave but was stopped by Ethan's hand. His voice lowered, seductive like a devil's whisper. "I'd like to see you change here."

Anne bit her lip, gave Ethan a quick kiss, and said, "Alright, I'll bring the swimsuits here."

"Good."

Minutes later, Ethan lounged on a chair as Anne walked into the pool with a new swimsuit, submerging her upper body before changing underwater.

Ethan let out a short whistle. This was far more captivating than watching Amber's dance yesterday.

Maybe he should suggest this to Richard—spice things up a bit?

From his angle, he could see Anne's enticing figure refracted beneath the shallow water, clear yet not entirely so. Her every movement stirred Ethan's heart.

When she finished changing, Anne emerged from the water, revealing her figure in a pink bikini. It was a three-piece, snugly covering all the essential areas, though Ethan found the fabric a bit excessive.

"Try another one, sweetheart."

The growing affection between Ethan and Anne had been accelerating, perhaps because they often met. After all, Avril was on a nationwide tour, and Scarlett had gone to another city.

Only Anne remained in New York with no ongoing film projects.

Watching her shyly switch swimsuits underwater amidst the summer sunlight, Ethan felt it would be a pity not to indulge in the moment.

The thought crossed his mind like a craving for oranges.

As Ethan mused, Anne resurfaced wearing a red bikini. This one had the least fabric, revealing the most of her fair skin.

Ethan snapped his fingers. "This one's perfect."

"Alright, Ethan, how are we shooting this?"

Anne was curious about what kind of cover Ethan had in mind. Her long lashes fluttered as she looked at him.

"We're going for an underwater shot." Ethan smiled and instructed, "Anne, lean against the pool's edge. Yes, your upper body above water, lower body submerged."

Anne followed Ethan's directions, spreading her pale arms along the pool's edge. She pressed her body against the blue tiles, one leg stretched straight underwater, the other bent slightly. Her fair toes curled slightly, with pale red nail polish complementing her bikini.

Ethan, dressed down to his underwear, jumped into the pool with the camera inside its waterproof case, continuing to direct her.

"Wet your hair slightly, then slick it back. I want to see the droplets on your face."

"Relax your posture! Anne, imagine the pool as a comfortable bed."

"Good, that's it! Keep it steady, lips slightly parted! Whoa, just like that!"

...

Click!

Ten minutes later, Ethan finally wrapped up the shoot.

Anne swam over, holding onto Ethan's arm to peek at the camera. "How is it?"

"Amazing!" Ethan brought up the photos for her to see.

In the pool, Anne leaned against the wall, her upper body shrouded in light blue water, while her red bikini stood out vividly against the tranquil blue backdrop. With the interplay of sunlight and tree shadows, the shot was undeniably sexy and sophisticated.

"It's beautiful. I think the editor-in-chief will love it." Anne's astonished gaze shifted to Ethan. She knew his photography skills were excellent, but she hadn't expected him to so effortlessly produce a cover-worthy photo.

Most photographers she had worked with would take hours, repeatedly adjusting and retaking shots. But Ethan's meticulous pre-shot preparation meant a single click was often enough.

"I think so too." Ethan set aside the waterproof case and turned to Anne, water droplets trailing down her face, tracing her curves before disappearing into the pool.

He pursed his lips, leaning closer to meet her gaze.

"Ethan," Anne whispered softly, her usual confidence replaced by shyness.

"How about I teach you to swim?" Ethan smiled before scooping her up.

"Step one: learning to float..."

The sudden ringing of Ethan's phone interrupted the moment.

But he ignored it—nothing could disturb him now.

To the accompaniment of the phone's ringtone, Anne cooperated with Ethan's instructions, learning to swim. She bent slightly forward, hands gripping the pool's edge, her body arching as her feet pressed against the pool floor. Ethan stood behind, correcting her posture.

She bit her lip gently, watching the ripples spreading across the water as they moved.

Throughout, Ethan's camera, secured in its transparent waterproof case, floated and bobbed in the pool, sometimes sinking, sometimes rising, trembling or drifting.

When the lesson ended, Ethan gently helped Anne out of the pool.

Placing her on the lounge chair to rest, he finally picked up his phone. Five missed calls—all from Badman.

Raising an eyebrow, Ethan called back.

"Hello, Badman..." Ethan began, but was cut off by Badman's raspy voice.

"Ethan, Raymond... Raymond's dead."

....

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