I Am In Hollywood 1 Hollywood 1988

"Oh, okay." Eric said, and two steaks were clumsily delivered to the couple next to the window. After that, he got back to his original leaning position against the counter, and continued to be in daze.

July 13th, 1988, the third day of his rebirth, Los Angeles North Hollywood, at an Italian restaurant. Eric turned and stared at the gla.s.s window not far to see the reflection of a young man about one meter eighty centimeters tall, with an angular face, an aquiline nose, and short golden hair. That appearance was now his own.

A few days ago, Eric was still living across the pacific ocean, in 2014. He was a 44-year-old advertising director who graduated from a famous film Academy director department. He wanted to be recognized internationally, and battled his way up for ten years to finally understand that reality was too cruel. In spite of solid professional knowledge, in that circle, the ones who made it weren't necessary the diligent ones. He married at 35 years old, had a son the following year, and finally settled down. At a cla.s.s reunion, a few years later, he drank too much while reminiscing about the past with his friends whom he had not seen for a long time.

Similar to the cliché openings of all thriller stories, after waking up, he found himself 25 years in the past, in the body of an eighteen-year-old named Eric Williams, a fresh high school graduate this year, but…

"Eric, are you okay ?" A chubby hand patted his shoulder. Eric turned to see the restaurant owner, Jeff Jones.

"I'm sorry, Jeff, I got distracted."

"Never mind." Jeff rubbed his hands, seemingly trying to find the words. "About Ralph, I'm sorry, but life goes on, you know ? Come on, Eric."

Ralph Williams, Eric's father, was a very good cook. He'd been doing Italian dishes at this restaurant for many years, however Ralph had a nasty addiction – alcohol. According to the memories of the original owner of the body, Ralph's hobby was intricately related to the mother he had never met. What happened was that, a month ago, Ralph died because of excessive drinking that lead to acute alcoholism.

"Thank you for your help, Jeff. I really don't know how to repay you." Eric said.

Following Ralph's death, Eric's life was thrown into chaos. Originally, Eric had applied to the University of California, but with his father's pa.s.sing, Eric's university hopes came to nothing. Even as a public inst.i.tution, the tuition fee needed was still about 20,000$ a year, not including other expenses. As Ralph's boss and friend, Jeff talked it out with Eric who then began to work as a waiter in his restaurant. As Jeff said, life went on.

"Ralph worked here for so many years, it's a given I'd help. But I can only do so much, and you'll have to rely on your own efforts for the rest."

Eric nodded in grat.i.tude. Seeing this, Jeff turned to leave, and the young man went back to his thoughts. Since an unscrupulous G.o.d had sent him to the Hollywood from twenty years ago, if he continued to be a waiter, that deity would certainly feel frustrated.

After three days of understanding his own situation, Eric had toned down his initial excitement, and finally resigned himself to reality. In his past life, as an outstanding student of a film academy, he did not get to achieve his own dream. Right now, he had neither diploma nor background, and even if he went and applied for a bottom job in a movie company, he might not succeed.

After a busy day in the Italian restaurant, Eric drove away in a cheap Ford Sedan car that his father had left behind. After Ralph's death, Eric had wanted to sell this car to pay for his school fees, but after receiving the waiter's job, he kept it. After all, the United States of America was known as the land on wheels, without a car, it wasn't exactly convenient.

Driving past a cinema theater, Eric saw a Rambo 3 poster plastered close to the entrance. Under the snow-capped mountains, a helicopter in the background, the young Stallone and his muscles were enough to make any proper female fan squeal.

Without much thought, Eric parked his car in the parking lot nearby and inquired about the movie. When he was told that a screening would start soon, he bought himself a ticket and went inside.

As it was still early, there were only about thirty to forty people in the two hundred-seats theater. Eric found his seat and sat down.

Soon, the lights went off. After the screen t.i.tles, the movie officially started:

Colonel Sam Trautman asked Rambo, who lived in seclusion in Thailand, to go to Afghanistan to carry out the task together, but Rambo rejected him. After the Colonel was captured, Rambo once again arms up to save his good friend…

In the past, Eric had watched every movie Stallone had starred in, and most more than once. The reason why he bought a ticket, was because Eric remembered Stallone's experiences as well as his own former self's. In the ten years he struggled, whenever he wanted to give up, he would use some of the more inspirational stories to motivate himself, which included Sylvester Stallone's; that legendary man.

The movie was still ongoing, Eric's swirling thoughts faded, and he focused on enjoying the show. Gradually, he relaxed his body and leaned back straight as he realized one thing; because he had seen the movie before, whenever the plot advanced, Eric would subconsciously think about what would happen next, and then, something hit him.

As he kept thinking about it, the next screen would clearly show every part as he remembered them, that is to say, the whole movie, every shot, every line, even every melody, was as if it had been engraved in his mind.

Eric suppressed his excitement, closed his eyes, chose one of Cameron's movie, t.i.tanic, and realized the result was still the same: he could recall every minute of it. Trying several other movies again, it was still the case. His thoughts were swirling, and Eric tried to remember movies whose name he had heard but hadn't seen; as expected, it didn't work. It seemed like he could only remember those he had seen, but it was enough.

When he had just been reborn, Eric also thought that he could use his past knowledge to produce some movies, but as someone who used to be a professional director, he also knew how difficult that would be. At best, he could only write something similar to the original, but now, his memory from his past life was clearer than ever, and Eric knew what it meant. As long as the conditions were met, he would be able to replicate those cla.s.sic movies down to the last details.

Eric was so excited that his cheeks flushed red and his fingers went numb. He finally couldn't hold it in anymore and heavily slapped his chair's armrest and blurted out: "d.a.m.n!"

The pain coming from his palm brought Eric back to reality. Looking around the audience, several people were glaring at him in discontent, and Eric could only smile in embarra.s.sment. The one hundred minutes of film was soon over, Rambo rescued his friend by a hair's breadth again, faithful to the franchise habits.

When he was sitting in the dark, Eric hadn't noticed at first because he was too excited, but he didn't have such a good memory in his past life. Like ordinary people, he had to read an article many times to to be able to recite it, and also listen to a song many times to be able to sing it. This newly acquired ability was obviously the work of an unscrupulous… ehm, compa.s.sionate G.o.d.

Holding onto this new found hope to make it to the pinnacle, Eric drove home in a rush. With such a broken ability, if he still failed miserably like in his previous life, he might as well choke himself to death with a gla.s.s of water.