Entertainment: Starting as a Succubus, Taking Hollywood by Storm Chapter 654 - 650: The Foolish Jennifer

Jennifer Lawrence had never been so embarrassed in her life.

And what made it worse—it had all happened right in front of her idol.

The only thing that gave her the slightest comfort was that he didn't seem disgusted by what had just happened. Just... mildly amused.

That was sothing.

Gathering her courage, she blurted out, "Martin, I... I'm your fan. You won't tell anyone what happened just now, right?"

Martin finally burst out laughing. "Don't worry. Since you're my fan... for your sake, I've already forgotten all about it."

"Really? Thank you! Thank you!" Jennifer's cheeks flushed an even deeper red, and she could feel the heat spreading up to her ears.

"What crew are you with?" Martin asked.

As they walked back together, they kept chatting.

"Uh... I'm with the crew of Prom Girl, right next door."

"Oh? What role are you playing? The lead?"

"No, no... it's just a minor supporting role. A couple of lines, that's all." Jennifer pouted slightly. "And even with such a tiny role, soone got jealous and tried to sabotage . I only drank a few sips of drugged water, and look what happened!"

"Never take food or drink from people you don't trust. That's rule number one on set," Martin said, shaking his head. "Didn't your agent tell you that?"

"She did. I just... forgot."

"Well, I bet you won't forget again after this. Today was quite the lesson."

Martin gave her a look—half-smile, half-smirk.

Jennifer's face turned red again.

...

Back on set, Martin had long since put the incident behind him.

But little Jennifer Lawrence couldn't let it go.

Eliza and her gang threw mocking looks her way, but Jennifer barely noticed. Her head was still spinning.

"I—I actually talked to Martin. That was Martin! The Magical Martin!"

"If those idiots like Eliza knew that their little sabotage plan ended up pushing into contact with my idol... heh, I wonder if they'd be mad enough to cough blood."

"Hmph! But I still won't forgive them. Those bitches are evil."

"Should I get revenge?"

"No, no. There are too many of them. What if they gang up and beat up?"

"Hehehe, Martin is so handso."

"Damn it, he saw looking such a ss. What if he rembers it later?"

"So embarrassing. It was such a big scene... and the sll!"

Her thoughts spun wildly. One mont she was blushing, the next pale. She looked alternately sad and delighted, like a girl on the verge of a romantic breakdown.

...

The filming of District 9 was progressing smoothly.

But Martin was beginning to worry.

"Man, sothing's off with you. Are you too deep in the role?" he asked.

He eyed the gaunt figure of Robert Downey Jr. in front of him and briefly regretted the tricks he'd used to get him into the movie.

"Relax. I'm fine. More than fine, actually. I haven't had this much fun with a role in years. It feels great!"

"Robert, don't get carried away. I'm getting you a psychiatrist tomorrow."

"No. Absolutely not!" Robert's eyes widened, his thin face tight with intensity. "I'm serious, Martin. I don't want to break out of this state. I like where I am right now. If I didn't, I'd have snapped out of it already."

So Martin didn't bring in a psychiatrist.

But every evening after shooting, he made sure to check in—have a chat, grab a drink, keep the guy tethered to reality just enough.

"You don't have to worry so much," Robert said one night, sipping his wine. "I know I'm acting. I know how to co back. I've done this before. My dad taught a few tricks, too. I just don't want to co back yet."

Martin sighed inwardly, both relieved and concerned.

He was glad that Robert's dedication was making the performance incredible.

But still—this wasn't quite Robert. The real Robert Downey Jr. wouldn't sip wine so delicately, or speak so gently.

After a quiet pause, Robert set down his glass, offering a faint, lancholy smile. "So, you hooking up with a girl from the crew next door? I've seen a little cutie dropping by our set a lot."

Martin grinned. "Yep. Can't help it—My charm is unstoppable. That girl, Jennifer, she's actually a fan of mine."

Robert nodded, smiling stiffly. "Then you don't have to hang out with . Go on, go date your little fan."

"Hah! If I weren't worried you'd off yourself, you think I'd be wasting ti here with an old man like you?" Martin shot back.

"Old man? Are you blind? I'm a dashing gentleman, thank you very much." Robert's smile softened into sothing more genuine. He lifted his chin slightly, a flicker of his trademark playboy charisma peeking through the gloom.

Seeing it, Martin lit up. He doubled down with relentless sarcasm—mocking Robert's clothes, his wrinkles, his graying hair, his posture.

Sure enough, the famously vain actor began fighting back. Bit by bit, his mood lifted, and the spark returned to his eyes.

As expected of .

Martin bead with pride.

"Damn it, you've completely ruined my feel for the character now."

As they parted ways, Robert grumbled.

Martin patted him on the shoulder. "You'll get it back, man. I have zero doubt."

And sure enough, the next day, Robert found his groove again. The two of them shared a knowing smile.

...

"Martin, Martin, I brought coffee and fried chicken!"

"Martin! I just bought a new phone—with a cara! Can we take a selfie?"

"Martin, Martin! The director praised today. Said I delivered my lines really smoothly!"

Ever since that embarrassing incident, it was like sothing had shifted in Jennifer Lawrence's brain. She'd been psyching herself up all night—and starting the very next day, she ca to visit Martin during every filming break.

Each ti, she left practically glowing.

Even Eliza and her group were starting to look a little less annoying to her.

One afternoon—

Just as Jennifer wrapped up her scenes and was about to leave, she was stopped by the director, Corey.

"Hey, Jennifer. Co with to the makeshift office. I want to go over a few scenes with you."

Jennifer blinked, then nodded instinctively. "Yes, Director."

Unbeknownst to them, four heads were peeking out from behind a nearby box, watching them sneak off.