My Life in Hollywood C46 Junior Prom (Patreon)

Being asked to junior prom by two girls back-to-back was flattering, to say the least.

Marcus stood in the hallway, Arya on one side, Alisha on the other, both of them eyeing each other with the kind of polite hostility only women could pull off.

As a man of culture, he hated the idea of rejecting either one. If he could, he'd take them both. Catch 'em all, Pokémon style.

But reality didn't work that way. Someone had to win, someone had to lose.

He could feel the tension between them—some unspoken competition he'd apparently become the trophy for.

"Marcus."

Another voice cut through.

They all turned.

A gorgeous Black girl strolled up, confidence radiating off her like perfume. She was a junior too, from another class, but she'd made a habit of stopping by to chat with Marcus between periods. They'd even become friends on Facebook.

"I heard you don't have a partner yet." Ellie smiled, completely unfazed by the two girls already flanking him. "Want to go with me?"

Marcus kept his expression polite. "Ellie. Hey."

Inside, he was praying for his life.

'What kind of blessed curse is this? Three girls asking me out at once?'

The tension in the air tripled. It was invisible, but very much there.

And of course, they were in the middle of the hallway. Which meant an audience.

"Yo, is Crown getting asked out by three chicks right now? Damn!"

"I'm just trying to walk to class and now I gotta witness this? I'm so jealous I could puke."

"Haha, lucky bastard—but honestly? That's a rough spot to be in."

Marcus couldn't disagree. If he saw some other guy in this situation, he'd be jealous too.

But right now, he needed to figure out how to navigate this without making enemies.

He glanced at Arya.

They'd known each other for a long-time. She was his friend, his employee, someone he trusted. Choosing her wouldn't surprise anyone—it was the obvious, safe choice. And more importantly, he didn't want to damage a real friendship over two girls he barely knew.

The answer was clear.

He took a quiet breath. "Actually... I already had someone in mind."

He reached over and slipped his hand around Arya's waist, pulling her slightly closer.

"I was thinking Arya would be my partner."

Alisha's smile flickered. Ellie's eyes narrowed just a fraction.

But Arya? Her expression bloomed into pure triumph. She shot a look at her competitors—the kind of look that said better luck next time.

Both girls kept their composure outwardly, but Marcus could practically hear the curses running through their heads.

"I see." Alisha recovered quickly, her smile turning sweet. "Well, maybe we can grab dinner sometime? If you're free."

Ellie wasn't about to be outdone. "Yeah, same here. Maybe a date when your schedule opens up?" She was more direct about it.

Marcus shrugged lightly. "Sure. Why not? If I've got the time."

He couldn't help but feel a little smug. Even in his previous life, he'd never been this popular in high school.

But Arya wasn't having it.

"Asking him out?" She crossed her arms. "I don't think that's happening. He's got a packed schedule. I work with him at his company—trust me, he doesn't have time to mess around. He's focused on building his future, unlike most guys our age."

Marcus glanced at her, eyebrow raised.

'Damn. She's really not letting this go.'

Alisha didn't flinch. "Oh, we know he's busy. But I'm sure he can make time for a meal." Her smile stayed perfectly charming.

"For sure," Ellie agreed, matching her energy. "Everyone needs a break now and then."

Arya's grip on Marcus's arm tightened.

"Come on." She tugged him away. "Let's go figure out what you're wearing to prom."

She practically dragged him down the hall, leaving Alisha and Ellie standing there with knowing smirks.

The onlookers watched the whole thing unfold like it was an episode of some Dinsley Channel drama.

---ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ---

Marcus and Arya walked side by side down the hallway, leaving the crowd behind.

The confident, triumphant energy she'd been radiating a minute ago? Gone. Now she seemed quieter, a little shy, like she wasn't sure what to do with herself.

"So," Marcus said, breaking the silence, "you figure out what you're wearing yet?"

Arya's cheeks flushed slightly. "I have something in mind."

That was a lie. She had no clue what to wear. But Diana would help her figure it out—her sister had way better fashion sense anyway.

"What about you?" she asked, glancing over. "I figured with how busy you are, you probably haven't even thought about it."

"You really do know me well." Marcus chuckled.

Arya smiled, her shyness softening. "If you want, I could help you pick something out. We could go shopping together. I'll keep you company."

Her voice was warm, hopeful.

Marcus considered it for a moment, then shook his head. "I appreciate that. But I think I already know what I'm going for."

It wasn't that he didn't want to spend time with her—he just didn't want to show up to prom looking like Arya dressed him. If she picked his outfit, he'd lose all control over his image. And knowing her, she'd probably steer him toward something "cute" or "safe."

He had his own taste. And more importantly, he had ideas from his previous life that might turn heads here.

Besides, prom wasn't complicated. For guys, it was usually a suit or a tuxedo—maybe a dress shirt with nice slacks if you wanted to keep it casual. Nothing too elaborate. The goal was to look sharp without trying too hard.

But Marcus wasn't settling for "good enough." This was his first prom in this life. He wanted to make an impression.

They talked for a few more minutes before parting ways. Arya headed off to class, still glowing from being chosen, while Marcus made a mental note to carve out time for shopping.

---ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ---

Later that afternoon, instead of heading to the Netflicks office, Marcus drove over to the Westfield Fashion Square in Sherman Oaks. It was only a fifteen-minute drive from NoHo, and the mall had a decent selection of higher-end stores.

He had a suit at home—a basic one he'd picked up for business occasions. It did its job, but it wasn't anything special. More functional than fashionable.

For prom, he wanted something with more personality.

He browsed through a few stores. Unlike some things in this world that went by different names, the major fashion houses had carried over exactly as he remembered—Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Armani, Hugo Boss. At least fashion hadn't diverged from his old life.

He ended up at a Hugo Boss location inside the mall.

The staff gave him a once-over when he walked in—probably sizing up whether a teenager could actually afford anything. Marcus ignored the looks and went straight for the formalwear section.

After twenty minutes of browsing, he settled on a slim-fit charcoal suit with subtle texture, a crisp white dress shirt, and a black silk tie. Classic, clean, but with enough edge to stand out. He added a pair of polished Oxford shoes and a sleek leather belt to complete the look.

Total damage: just under $2,000.

He paid without flinching.

The cashier's eyebrows rose slightly as he handed over his card, but Marcus just smiled politely and took his bags.

Paying two grand for clothes and shoes just for a junior prom would've been unthinkable when he first woke up in this sixteen-year-old body. Back then, every dollar mattered.

Now? He didn't even blink.

Hell, in his previous life, dropping that kind of cash on a single outfit would've stung for weeks. But things were different here. He had the system. Quests, points, rewards that turned into real opportunities. Money wasn't the struggle it used to be.

Funny how quickly perspectives could change.

---ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ---

By 6 PM, the Aurora Blanca Banquet Hall in Encino was already buzzing with activity.

The venue was elegant—high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors. White drapes framed the entrance, and inside, round tables surrounded a spacious dance floor. It was the kind of place that made teenagers feel like adults for one night.

Students filtered in steadily, the girls in flowing gowns and fitted dresses, the guys in suits and ties of varying quality. Some arrived in their parents' minivans or sedans. Others made a point of showing off.

NoHo High drew from a mix of families. Most were middle class, but a handful had real money—parents who owned car dealerships, ran businesses, or held executive positions at major companies. Tonight, those differences were on full display.

A cherry-red Porsche 911 pulled up to the entrance, drawing immediate attention.

Frank stepped out first, adjusting his jacket with the kind of smug confidence that came from never being told no.

He circled around and opened the passenger door, offering his hand to Alisha.

She took it, stepping out in a sleek navy blue gown that hugged her figure elegantly. Her dark hair was pinned up, a few loose strands framing her face.

Frank's grip on her hand was firm—a little too firm. Possessive.

"You look good tonight," he said, eyes lingering on her in a way that made her want to pull away.

"Thanks." Alisha kept her tone neutral. Polite but distant.

This wasn't what she wanted. Frank wasn't who she wanted. But Marcus had chosen Arya, and sitting at home on prom night wasn't an option. So here she was.

They walked toward the entrance, Frank's hand sliding to the small of her back. Alisha resisted the urge to shrug it off.

She scanned the crowd instead, searching for familiar faces.

"Looking for someone?" Frank noticed.

"No." Alisha shook her head quickly. "Just seeing who's here."

Before he could press further, another couple approached—Ellie in a stunning red halter dress, her arm linked with a tall guy in a gray suit.

"Frank!" The guy grinned, extending a hand.

"Jamie." Frank clasped it, pulling him into one of those half-hug backslap things guys did.

Jamie was part of Frank's circle—similar background, similar tastes. They'd been running together since freshman year.

While the guys launched into conversation, Alisha and Ellie drifted a few steps away.

Ellie raised an eyebrow. "Didn't expect to see you with Frank tonight."

Alisha smiled dryly. "Could say the same about you and Jamie."

"Touché."

They shared a look—the kind that said everything without words. Two girls who'd aimed for the same target and missed.

"Guess we're both stuck settling," Ellie sighed.

Alisha crossed her arms, her expression souring. "Arya only won because she's been friends with him since sophomore year. She had a head start."

"Right?" Ellie rolled her eyes. "And did you see the way she looked at us in the hallway? Like she'd already won the damn lottery."

"She got lucky this time." Alisha's jaw tightened. "But prom's just one night. I'm not giving up that easily—"

A murmur rippled through the crowd near the entrance.

Both girls turned.

A sleek black Mercedes-AMG GT pulled up to the curb, its engine purring before going silent. The doors opened.

Marcus stepped out first.

He was wearing a slim-fit charcoal Hugo Boss suit that fit him like it was tailored specifically for his athletic frame. Crisp white shirt underneath, black silk tie, polished Oxford shoes.

His dark hair was styled back, clean and sharp, with just enough texture to look effortless—framing a chiseled jawline and striking blue eyes.

He had that boy-next-door handsome appeal, but elevated somehow. Approachable yet striking. The kind of guy who could charm your parents at dinner and still make girls weak in the knees.

But it wasn't just the looks. It was the way he carried himself—shoulders relaxed, posture confident, like he owned every room he walked into.

Then Arya stepped out from the passenger side.

She wore an emerald green off-shoulder gown that flowed to the floor, the fabric catching the light with every movement. Her light brown hair was styled in loose waves cascading over one shoulder, and subtle gold jewelry accented her neck and ears. The color made her green eyes pop.

She looked stunning. Not cute, not pretty—genuinely beautiful.

Together, they looked like they'd stepped off the cover of a magazine.

The crowd's attention locked onto them immediately. Whispers spread.

"Is that Marcus Crown?"

"Damn, Arya cleans up nice..."

"They look like a celebrity couple."

Alisha felt her breath catch. For a moment, she couldn't look away.

Ellie was equally frozen.

They only snapped out of it when Frank and Jamie's voices cut through.

"Tch." Jamie scoffed, watching Marcus and Arya walk past. "This guy's really full of himself, huh? Showing up in Hugo Boss like he's going to the Oscars."

"For real," Frank muttered, but his eyes weren't on Marcus.

They were on Arya.

"Gotta admit though..." Frank's gaze traced her figure in that green dress. "She's looking fine tonight."

Alisha caught the look. Her jaw tightened, but she said nothing.

This was going to be a long night.