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There was a girl who loved , but I drove her away.

It's all my fault because of my pride.

I'd be lying if I said I was okay.

I regret letting that girl go...

...

Nononono.

No no no no.

Nononono.

No no no no.

A wounded heart can never heal.

...

The song, written and composed by Claude Kelly, Ollie Morse, and Steven Robertson, imdiately hit the top ten of the major charts upon its release and then soared to the top spot.

In this era, pop-rock songs like this one were even more refreshing.

Rock with a pop flavor, soothing arrangents, and pleasant but not noisy lodies created a fresh impact on the senses of people at the ti.

Martin's lazy and lancholy interpretation, combined with the sad and exquisite lyrics and music, made the song seem to tell a story of "missed love."

Coupled with his textured voice, it was as if tiny visible particles were floating in the air.

It was hearty, smooth, and soulful, like a breeze in early sumr. It penetrated people's clothes finely and coolly, making it impossible to hide or resist. Unknowingly, it fell into a single cycle, looping in their minds.

But the strange thing was, even though the lyrics clearly described a "sad" story, Martin's performance had an unparalleled "healing" effect.

It seed to be able to soothe the pain in people's hearts, resolve sorrow, eliminate stress, and make those negative emotions disappear.

In the office buildings, white-collar workers overwheld by busy work found relief in the song's soothing lody.

Young people heartbroken from broken love smiled again as they listened to it.

In schools, students struggling with heavy workloads released their stress with the music.

As countless music critics have said, excellent songs always evoke deep resonance. What's more, this song was enhanced by Martin's "Voice Charm Spell," making its impact even more powerful.

When the song ended, Mark Winters in the studio seed imrsed in the music. It took him a while before he spoke.

"It's very strange. Martin yers' songs always have an extrely strong appeal. This isn't the first ti I've listened to this song, but every ti I can't help but be absorbed in it, and that sumr and that girl co to mind..."

"It is said that this song was given to a certain girl by Martin yers. I really don't know who the lucky girl is?"

"Scarlett Johansson? Jessica Alba? Lindsay Lohan? These are all female child stars who have a good relationship with Martin. Could it be one of them?"

"Dad Martin, did you give this song to us?"

Lindsay asked quietly in Martin's ear.

The "us" in her words referred to herself, Dorothy, and Jessica.

"Certainly!" Martin vowed.

Jeff, who was sitting in the passenger seat, said emotionally, "This song is really good. Even an old guy like felt emotional after listening to it. It feels like it's going to be a big hit again. Congratulations, Martin."

Martin smiled and said, "Co on, Jeff, you're not old. Also, thank you for the blessing!"

Gordon, who was driving beside him, heard Jeff's emotion and silently thought, " too!"

Lindsay was so happy that she blushed and clung to Martin.

Martin was surprised to find that the girl's once-thin body seed to have begun developing, already showing a delicate and convex shape.

...

Upon arriving at the door of Miramax's screening room, Martin's phone suddenly rang.

He took out his cell phone, glanced at it, and said to Lindsay and Jeff, "You go in first. I'll answer the phone."

Martin walked to the corner of the corridor and pressed the answer button. "Hello!"

A cheerful voice ca from the other end of the phone, "Martin, is that song for ?"

It was Scarlett Johansson.

Martin replied without changing his expression, "Of course, I gave it to my lovely Scarlett."

"Hehe, thank you, Martin. I love it."

"By the way, I've received the script for Arican Rhapsody. The heroine is Nastassja Kinski. She is so beautiful!"

"Really, but I think you're more beautiful than her. She's already thirty-eight years old. In terms of beauty, she can't compare to my Scarlett!"

"Hehehe..." Scarlett Johansson couldn't stop laughing on the other end of the phone.

After chatting for a while, Martin hung up the phone, but Nastassja Kinski appeared in his mind.

In the mory of "Chinese Martin," this German actress was quite impressive.

This actress, once known as "the most beautiful woman in the European film industry," had both purity and an aura of seduction. Her innocence was alluring, and with her perfect figure, she was the heroine of many n's "spring dreams."

"It's a pity that she has passed the peak of her appearance now," Martin sighed secretly, thinking that otherwise, she wouldn't be impossible for him to add to his collection.

(PS: If you want to know more about this actress, the author recomnds the movie Leopard Girl, where she made a significant contribution to art. As for the final analysis, everyone will know how big the dedication is after watching it. Anyway, it's amazing. I just don't know if I can still find an uncut version online.)

(By the way, her father, Klaus Kinski, also acted in a more controversial film, The House of Foreigners, directed by the Japanese director Shuji Terayama. The heroine is also very beautiful.)

Putting his cell phone into his pocket, Martin was about to walk toward the screening room, but before he could take more than two steps, the phone rang again.

"Hello, Miranda!"

"Harrow, Martin." Miranda's voice was shy. "I heard your song. It's so nice. The title is That Girl. So, who is that girl?"

"Of course, it's you, dear Miss Miranda!"

"Geez, really?"

"I won't lie to you. It's really you. Do you like it?"

"I love it so much. Thank you, Martin. I love you!"

" too!"

Strictly speaking, Martin was right. This song was for all "his girls"—in fact, the title of the song should be "Those Girls"!

Jessica, Lindsay, Dorothy, Scarlett, Miranda, and even Diana, they were all Martin's girls

You are reading Entertainment: Starting as a Succubus, Taking Hollywood by Storm Chapter 99: Martin Girl on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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