Hunting in Hollywood

As dusk settled and streetlights along the roads began to glow, Simon reminded the two women, still stunned and hesitant, that it was indeed time to head back. The journey from Burbank to Malibu, far on the west outskirts of Los Angeles, was a long one. He suggested that Katherine drive, considering it was far too risky for Jenny Johnson to drive in her high heels.

Seeing that Simon was behaving normally without any signs of an actual mental breakdown, Katherine felt reassured and decided not to probe further into Simon's past.

She found humor in the situation with her friend who was usually frivolous now quieted by the revelation of Simon's supposed background. It seemed the pseudo-crazy ruffian woman had met a real madman from a psychiatric facility. 

After making sure Jenny was seated in the passenger side, Katherine got behind the wheel. Before starting the car, she insisted that Simon contact her if he encountered any troubles, then she started the vehicle.

After turning the car around at a nearby intersection, Katherine nodded to Simon, who was still standing by the roadside, and slowly drove off, merging into the city's evening traffic.

Watching the two women drive away, Simon adjusted his backpack and walked off.

After buying a map of Los Angeles from a nearby store, Simon sat down at an outdoor table of a fast-food restaurant and ordered the cheapest dinner available. While eating, he studied the map, benefiting from the memories of twelve other people he had inherited. This not only included professional skills but also an extensive knowledge of Hollywood and Los Angeles—from geography and culture to entertainment gossip spanning decades. Simon realized he could even have a career as a paparazzi with such information.

He easily located the headquarters of WMA on the map. Camino Street was near the bustling intersection of Wilshire Boulevard and Santa Monica Boulevard, close to Century City Park where media companies congregated and the 20th Century Fox studio was located, not far from CAA headquarters, WMA's fierce competitor.

Having marked WMA's location, Simon also noted the address of the Writers Guild of America (WGA) headquarters.

The server brought Simon his dinner, and after eating and paying, he left the restaurant, beginning to worry about how to leave Burbank.

In the 1980s, Los Angeles lacked a reliable public transit system; taxis were scarce and typically required a phone reservation.

After wandering the streets for half an hour hoping for a stroke of luck, Simon realized he had underestimated the inadequacy of LA's public transportation and regretted not asking Katherine for a ride. Left with no choice, he stayed overnight at a local motel.

The next morning, with the motel owner's help, Simon booked a taxi by phone. After some haggling, including a tip, he paid $15 to get a ride to West Hollywood, across the Santa Monica Mountains.

Standing on Melrose Avenue, although still far from his destination and to save money, Simon decided to walk the rest of the way, guided by his map. He walked south along Fairfax Avenue, intersecting with Melrose Avenue, and soon arrived outside the Writers Guild of America (WGA) building.

Simon's visit here wasn't to join the guild as he wasn't yet qualified but to register the copyrights of his scripts. Federal copyright law theoretically grants creators copyright upon completion of their work, but in reality, registration is crucial evidence in legal disputes.

In the US, there are many ways to register a copyright, including through private agencies. However, the most authoritative is the Copyright Office, which, due to notoriously slow processing times, could take months. Consequently, registering through WGA is a popular choice among Hollywood screenwriters for its efficiency.

Simon decided to register both of his completed scripts at the WGA. The registration fee was $20 per script, and the total cost, including printing, significantly reduced his funds. After leaving the WGA building and making a copy of his script "The Butterfly Effect" and buying a cheap digital watch for under $2 from a street vendor, it was already past noon.

After a quick meal, Simon checked his wallet; his $198 from yesterday had dwindled to just under $97.

He wasn't panicked, though. The worst-case scenario was ending up on the streets, where starvation was unlikely. If necessary, he could find a church offering free meal vouchers.

His appointment at WMA was at 4 p.m., and to ensure nothing went wrong, Simon arrived half an hour early.

WMA's headquarters on Camino Street was a modern-looking building of glass and steel, modest in height but impressive compared to the bland commercial buildings nearby. The small plaza in front reflected WMA's significant status in Hollywood.

A few minutes before four, Simon entered the WMA headquarters.

After explaining his purpose to the receptionist, a young Caucasian man in his late twenties, dressed in a professional white shirt and black trousers, greeted him. With neatly styled brown hair and gold-rimmed glasses, Owen

 Wright, Jonathan Friedman's assistant, had a polished look.

Owen introduced himself and led Simon through the bustling corridors of WMA, where employees rushed about with serious expressions, some casting wary glances at Simon's unfamiliar face.

Simon wasn't surprised by this atmosphere; he knew from his extensive knowledge that WMA was currently experiencing significant internal turmoil. Recently, the deaths of WMA's chairman and CEO, Morris Stoller, and president Stan Carmen had sparked a power struggle within the company and made it vulnerable to poaching by rival agencies like CAA and ICM.

The loss of high-profile clients to CAA following Carmen's death had severely weakened WMA.

Owen led Simon to an office where, after a short wait in a lounge, a middle-aged Caucasian man with slightly graying hair entered. In his mid-fifties and dressed in a gray suit, Jonathan Friedman appeared with a welcoming smile and a handshake. "So, Simon Westeros?"

Simon shook his hand, "Hello, Mr. Friedman, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Jonathan gestured for Simon to follow him into an adjoining office. "Westeros, that's a unique surname. It's an advantage here in Hollywood, where being memorable is not easy."

Simon simply smiled, not responding.

They sat down, and Jonathan assessed Simon. At about 180 cm tall, with sharp features and a mature, camera-friendly demeanor, Simon exuded a calm confidence unusual for his age. Jonathan initially saw the potential for a leading man, reminiscent of Tom Cruise's recent success in "Top Gun." However, realizing Simon was a screenwriter dampened his expectations. Jonathan didn't believe someone around twenty could produce a remarkable screenplay or even fully understand the standard Hollywood script format.

Their meeting was primarily due to a favor to Katherine, whose upcoming film's male lead was being courted by one of Jonathan's clients. Jonathan planned to refer Simon to WMA's literary agents if he showed promise. As managing screenwriters was less lucrative compared to actors, Jonathan had no intention of personally representing one unless necessary.

Despite his reservations and the company's chaotic situation, Jonathan maintained his professionalism. He believed that a good agent should always be courteous and attentive.

With a gentle and encouraging tone, he invited Simon to discuss his screenplay, "So, Simon, tell me about your script?"