My Life in Hollywood C49 The Idea (Patreon)

The second week of May brought that perfect Los Angeles weather—seventy-five degrees, cloudless sky, the kind of afternoon that made rich people feel justified in their existence. At Griffin Park Tennis Club, perched in the hills with views stretching across the valley, Howard Ames stood on the clay court and tried not to think about how badly his life was falling apart.

Across the net, Christopher Doyle was serving. Showing off, really—all flash and power, the ball rocketing past Howard's half-hearted return.

Two women watched from courtside chairs. Christopher's current rotation. The brunette was Karen, lead actress of The Lawsons. Both looked expensive in that high-maintenance way.

Christopher played like it was all in good fun, grinning after every point. But Howard wasn't having fun at all. His hairline had crept back another quarter-inch this week alone—he could feel it every time he looked in the mirror. Dark circles had carved themselves under his eyes. The advertiser exodus from The Lawsons had been grinding him down for seven days straight, and it showed.

He wasn't playing well. But that was fine. Better, even. Beating Christopher would be a disaster.

The serve came fast. Howard swung wide on purpose, letting the ball sail past.

"Hah! There it is!" Christopher threw his arms up. "Still got it!"

The women approached immediately. Karen took his racket while the blonde pressed against his side, dabbing at his neck with a towel. Her hand lingered on his chest, fingers trailing lower.

"You two spoil me." Christopher's hand slid down Karen's back and grabbed her ass—a full, possessive squeeze through the thin tennis skirt. She didn't flinch. Just pressed closer, letting him handle her like she belonged to him.

Howard watched, jaw tight. The jealousy burned harder than he wanted to admit. Not because of Karen specifically—though she was hot as hell in that outfit—but because Christopher had everything. Money, power, women who let him grope them in public like they were his personal property. Women who enjoyed it.

"You're too good out there," Howard forced out, trying to sound genuine. "Couldn't get a single game off you."

Christopher's hand was still on Karen's ass, massaging it slowly. He glanced at both women, grinning with that wide face and those cold, entitled eyes. "Course not. I'm good at everything." His fingers squeezed harder, making Karen's breath catch. "Right, ladies? Especially the bedroom stuff?"

Karen's laugh came out low and breathy. "Oh, absolutely. The best."

"Mmm, you really are," the blonde purred, her hand sliding down his chest toward his waistband before pulling away teasingly.

Howard's mouth twitched despite himself. The shamelessness was something else.

"Break time," Christopher said, finally releasing Karen. "We should talk. Your show's in the toilet, isn't it?"

Howard's stomach dropped, but he nodded. Finally.

The locker room smelled like expensive cologne and chlorine. Both of them down to towels now.

Howard caught sight of Christopher's body—nothing special, just a regular thirty-year-old's build. Then he saw the chairman's dick when the man turned. It wasn't even slightly bigger than his own. Actually smaller. Yet this bastard kept bragging about his bedroom skills like he was hung like a horse.

'Beta male motherfucker,' Howard thought, but kept quiet.

"So." Christopher wrapped the towel around his waist. His wide face settled into something harder. "I heard your show's screwed. Advertisers bailing left and right, even sponsors. What the hell happened?" He crossed his arms. "Don't forget I put money into that comedy."

Howard tried to look helpless. "I've done everything I can. I'm at a loss."

"Did you even try keeping them?"

"I tried," Howard said. "Practically begged some of them. Vexizon, Papa Joe's, Toyomoto—all the big ones walked anyway."

"I've been hearing things lately—some streaming site called Netflicks pulling your audience? That really what's happening?"

"Yeah, they've got a show that's growing, and our ratings aren't great, but that's not the whole problem."

Christopher barked out a laugh. "Jesus. You're getting your ass kicked by a website?" He shook his head, grinning. "That's fucking pathetic, Howard."

The mockery was obvious.

'What would you know, you lucky nepo baby piece of shit?' Howard kept the thought locked down.

"So what is it then?"

"Controversy," Howard said, grabbing his shirt. "Crew members quit mid-season, went public on social media. Media caught wind of it, ran with it."

That was the real killer. Ratings mattered, sure—but in the end, money talked louder. A show with decent ratings could survive if advertiser cash kept flowing. Hell, even a hit show with top ratings could get axed the moment sponsors pulled out. Television was a business, and business ran on dollars, not Nielsen numbers. Without sponsor money, there was no show. Simple as that.

"Controversy?" Christopher barely sounded interested. "What kind?"

'Your girlfriend's the problem, you clueless bastard.' But Howard hesitated, picking his words. "Your lead actress. Karen. There've been complaints about her bullying people on set. Extras, smaller actors, crew. It all leaked."

"Karen?" Christopher blinked. "Huh. She's got a temper, sure. People are too damn sensitive."

His tone made it clear he didn't give a shit.

'You two deserve each other.'

"So what now?" Christopher asked. "Sounds like the show's dead anyway."

Howard clenched his jaw. "That's why I need your help."

This was why he'd come. Why he'd let Christopher humiliate him on the tennis court, why he stood here half-naked discussing his failing career.

Christopher snorted. "What makes you think I can save it?"

Howard swallowed what was left of his pride. The Lawsons was his third bomb in two years.

If this one died, so did his career. And Christopher could help—the chairman had connections everywhere. Film, television, advertising. Blockbuster partnered with every major network. Christopher could leverage that, make calls to executives above Howard's head, broker sponsor deals through his theater advertising relationships. Trade favors. Make problems disappear.

If he actually gave a shit.

But Howard had come prepared for that.

"You remember Lana?" he asked.

Christopher's face changed instantly. The boredom vanished. His wide face went dark, cold eyes sharpening. "That bitch? How could I forget? She had the balls to turn me down."

Howard felt a flicker of satisfaction. "Funny thing. You know that Netflicks show pulling our sponsors? Modern Family? She's one of the leads."

"What?" Christopher stood abruptly, towel nearly slipping. "She's in that show?"

"I blacklisted her everywhere," Christopher snarled. "Closed every door in this town. She was supposed to come crawling back, begging me to take her. And I would've—once she learned her fucking place."

Howard's mouth twitched. The entitlement was unreal. "Well, she found a workaround. And that show, Modern Family, is one of the biggest reasons advertisers are leaving."

There was truth in that. The companies wouldn't have jumped ship so eagerly if not for Netflicks' Modern Family growing in popularity. The bad PR from The Lawsons was the main killer—sponsors didn't want to be associated with a toxic workplace story.

But the fact that there was somewhere else to go? That sealed it. They weren't just fleeing controversy; they could get premium placement on Netflicks for cheaper than major network rates. And even though the website was small compared to the big networks, the potential market couldn't be denied.

Christopher's hands curled into fists. The rage was written all over his wide face. "That fucking—" He stopped, breathing hard through his nose. "I'm looking into this."

Howard kept his expression neutral, but inside he was smiling.

He'd known Christopher wouldn't care about protecting his investment. Wouldn't care about business logic or Howard's career. The man was too spoiled, too disconnected.

But wounded pride? A woman who'd rejected him actually succeeding without his permission?

That, the petty bastard would act on. Even if it was just some girl trying to make a living. Christopher was that fucking petty and out of touch.

---ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ᴥ⁠•⁠`⁠ʔ---

Netflicks was doing incredibly well lately. Modern Family was pulling in sponsors left and right. Toyomoto had offered half a million dollars for brand integration throughout the season—their products mentioned casually in episodes, quick sponsor spots between segments. Other brands were lining up too. When Marcus tallied everything up, they were looking at around $1.5 million in yearly sponsor contracts.

Compared to what major networks commanded, the numbers weren't astronomical. But for a small streaming site with barely 120,000 subscribers? It was fucking impressive.

Then there was Naruto. Nisson—the biggest instant noodle company around—had taken notice of the anime and wanted in. They weren't just offering standard sponsorship either. They wanted brand mentions woven into episodes, maybe even special anime shorts featuring their product.

Put it all together, and Marcus was staring at roughly $3 million in sponsorship and advertising revenue alone. That wasn't even counting monthly subscription income.

With earnings like that—and the potential for more down the line—season two for both Modern Family and Naruto was already a done deal.

•••••••••

Jefferson sat in Marcus's office, reading through the latest financial report. He set it down. "I had my doubts about you paying back that seventy million. But looking at these numbers..." He gestured at the papers. "Maybe you'll actually pull it off."

"Told you."

"Who knew we'd be catching the attention of companies this big?"

Marcus looked pleased. "This is just the beginning. We're not even close to the exciting part yet."

Jefferson smiled. If this wasn't even the exciting part, the future was going to be something else. "With how well we're doing, I'm thinking my friend—the one who wanted to invest—might not even be necessary anymore."

"Wait, someone wanted to invest?"

"Yeah. Rich guy. Well—his father's the rich one. This guy just spends his time living large, chasing women, enjoying daddy's money."

Marcus stroked his chin. 'Guys like that are way easier to deal with than Douglass.'

"You thinking about selling shares?" Jefferson's tone turned cautious. "Because you're still bound by those terms Douglass set. You can sell, sure, but if you cross the line and trigger the penalty clauses, Douglass gets leverage over you."

Marcus chuckled. "I can sell a few percentage points without setting off any alarms. It's manageable."

Jefferson looked thoughtful. "Even so, will selling just a few points actually make a difference? Might not be worth the hassle for such a small amount."

It was a fair point. If they could only sell a tiny sliver of equity, the capital raised might not move the needle.

"Would've been true six months ago."

Jefferson raised an eyebrow.

"Back then, the company had no proven value. I was asking for crazy valuations—people would've thought I was insane. Only you believed in me." Marcus smiled. "But now? The numbers back it up. The price can be even higher than before, and it'll be justified."

Jefferson shook his head. "You're gonna fleece my friend."

"I'm offering him fair market value. If that happens to be generous to me, well—that's business."

Jefferson laughed. "Cold-blooded." His expression shifted. "Why do you even need more investment? We're doing fine."

"I want to make a movie. Christmas special for Netflicks."

"A movie?" Jefferson perked up. "What kind? There's a million generic Christmas movies. We could license something cheap."

"A kid gets left home alone at Christmas. Has to defend the house from burglars."

"...What?"

"Kid. Home alone. Burglars."

"That sounds like a horror movie. You made Paranormal Activity—I know what you're capable of."

Marcus laughed. "No, it's a comedy. Fun family movie."

A week ago, the system had dropped a Major Quest on him—make a Christmas movie for Netflicks. He'd already purchased [Home Alone] from the Quest Search Engine.

"How much are we looking at?"

"Ten to twenty million."

Jefferson's eyebrows shot up. "That much?"

"We partner with another studio. Split the budget, share theatrical rights, Netflicks keeps exclusive streaming."

Jefferson nodded slowly. At this point, he'd learned to just trust whatever Marcus was cooking up.

---…⁠ᘛ⁠⁐̤⁠ᕐ⁠ᐷ---

After a long day, Marcus got home and went straight for the shower. Once he was clean, he grabbed a coffee and collapsed onto the couch with his laptop, pulling up an episode of *Naruto* on Netflicks.

He'd never watched the show in his previous life. Everything was new. And honestly? He was hooked. Been binge-watching for days.

The laptop screen was fine, but his eyes kept drifting to the TV across the room.

Smart TVs were just starting to appear—same as they had in his old world. Samsun, LK Electronics, Fujinami. The big manufacturers were rolling out their first models with internet connectivity and basic app support. Expensive as hell. Clunky. Most people didn't even know they existed yet. But the technology was there.

And that got Marcus thinking.

'Right now, people can only watch Netflicks on their computers. But in my previous life, the real explosion came when streaming hit TVs. That's when it went mainstream—when families could sit on the couch together instead of huddling around a laptop.'

The problem? Getting Netflicks onto those TVs.

He'd need to develop an app compatible with whatever operating systems the smart TVs were running. But more than that—way more than that—he'd need partnerships with the manufacturers themselves. Samsun, LK, Fujinami. Convince them to either pre-install Netflicks or make the app available through their built-in stores.

That wasn't going to be easy.

These companies didn't know him. Netflicks was still small-time. Why would Samsun or LK give a damn about some startup streaming site when they were focused on selling hardware?

'But if I can get in early, while smart TVs are still new and these companies are figuring out what content to offer... that's the window. Get Netflicks baked into the ecosystem before anyone else does.'

Then another thought hit him.

'What if they don't bite?'

In his previous life, there'd been alternatives. Streaming boxes. Devices you could plug directly into any TV—smart or not—and boom, instant streaming capability. Roku. Apple TV. Those Android boxes that flooded the market. Even Amazon got in on it with their Fire Stick.

'If I can't get pre-installed on smart TVs... maybe I develop my own box. Something small, affordable. Plug it in, connect to wifi, and you've got Netflicks right there. Doesn't matter if the TV is smart or not.'

It wouldn't be cheap to develop. Manufacturing costs, distribution, marketing—all of that added up. But if the TV manufacturers stonewalled him, a streaming box could be the backup plan. Hell, it might even be the better plan. Control the hardware, control the experience.

Just as he was turning the idea over—

[New Major Quest Available]

The familiar chime, and a notification flickered to life.

[Major Quest: Bring Netflicks To The Living Room]

Objective A — Develop a Netflicks streaming device compatible with standard TVs.

Objective B — Secure pre-installation partnerships with at least two major TV manufacturers.

[Complete either objective for base reward. Complete both for bonus reward.]

[Time Limit: 3 Years]

[Reward: 3,000 Points | Bonus Reward: +1,500 Points]

Marcus stared at it.

'Are you serious right now?'

He'd literally just been thinking about this. The exact same thing. And now the System dropped a quest like it'd been listening the whole time.

'I swear this thing reads my mind.'

3,000 points. That was massive. Even the bonus alone—1,500 points—was more than anything he'd earned so far. The System clearly wanted him to do this.

But then the weight of it settled in.

Three years. That sounded like plenty of time. Except it wasn't—not when the technology he needed barely existed yet. Smart TVs were brand new. The infrastructure for streaming apps on those devices was practically nonexistent. And partnering with manufacturers like Samsun or LK? Those were massive corporations. Getting a meeting with them would be a challenge, let alone convincing them to put Netflicks on their platforms.

'The technology isn't there yet. The partnerships definitely aren't. How the hell am I supposed to pull this off?'

He rubbed his face, exhaling slowly. The quest was there. He couldn't ignore it. But right now, all he could do was keep turning the pieces over and figure out where to start.

The doorbell rang.

Marcus blinked, pulled out of his thoughts. He stood, still in his robe, and walked to the door.

He opened it.

Arya.

"Arya?" He just stared. The kiss from prom was still vivid, and seeing her now—unannounced, at his door—caught him completely off guard.

Then he noticed Diana standing beside her.

"Oh. Counselor." Marcus straightened, suddenly aware he was wearing nothing but a robe. He'd been calling her that lately, even at the office. Safer.

The three of them stood there. Diana's eyes flicked from his face down to the robe, then back up, flat and unimpressed.

"You planning to invite us in, or should we just stand out here?"

"Right. Yeah. Come in." Marcus stepped aside, pulling the door wider. "Both of you."