"Andy, you can't go on like this. You haven't published a work for two years, you know, you still owe a publisher's book!"

"Even if you can't write those shit, don't refuse the job I'm looking for!"

"The seventeen-year-old magazine asks you to write a blog. They like the tone you talk to. This is work. I am your agent. I am helping you!"

Andy. Smith looked at the bald middle-aged man in front of his eyes and chattered all morning, his head buzzing, his fingers pressed against the temple that was about to explode, curled up on the sofa, and said painfully: "Okay, okay, Karl I ’m going to say it again, FUCK. My head is going to blow up. No, I ’m going to take a painkiller and sleep for a while. I wo n’t give it to you. ”

Carl watched Andy Smith rubbing his temples, walking up the stairs, raising his hand, his lips moved slightly and he wanted to talk again to persuade him. I didn't know what I thought of, put down my hand and sighed slightly. Rest well, remember to call me. "

Andy Smith lay down on the large, messy bed, her eyes closed, her face pained, and it was incredible to think of the past 12 hours.

"Ahem ..."

Song Dawei climbed ashore from the cold swimming pool, vomited, patted his chest and spit out water, and it took him a while to get back to his senses. Weak limbs and headache.

Damn, where am I? Wasn't my phone blown up when I was on the phone with the four-star charging? He held his sore head, wiped off the water stains on his face, stood up slowly, and walked into the room with the dim light in the villa to find the bathroom.

Song, just turning on the light, Song Dawei was stupid. An unfamiliar face appeared on the mirror of the bathroom, black hair, blue eyes like lake water, soft features, pale complexion, height 180-190 cm Look, but very thin and feel very uncoordinated. Just exceptionally young, revealing an astringent.

Looking straight at the mirror like this, Song Dawei, who was already in his thirties, walked out of the bathroom with a dull look, stepped on a soft carpet with water-stained feet, and lay directly on the large white sofa in the living room. Grunting: "Wipe, am I passing through?"

As a veteran internet bookworm, he soon realized what was happening, and a burst of inexplicable emotions came to his mind, excited, panicked, or even excited.

There was a sudden pain in Song Dawei's head that was caught in the memory, as if he had stirred the red soldering iron in his head, causing his brain to boil, and howling, holding his head to the ground and rolling continuously, I didn't know how long it had passed. Blood flowed from the nasal cavity and passed out.

Langzhong, Song Dawei's consciousness, watching a gray-white cloud with a tiny current is merging with a white cloud, and the current in it is decomposing the white cloud.

"Ah ... just now ... what happened?" Song Dawei sat up somehow, and when he woke up, he found that his head was still sore and dizzy, and he felt something sticky under his nose. Nosebleeds.

He quickly got up and went into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. The nosebleed reached the corner of his mouth. After thinking for a few seconds, he closed his eyes and remembered, and then swallowed suddenly after swallowing, his forehead sweated, and for a while Dizziness. The master of this body is Andy Smith, 21 years old. He is a young and famous young writer, his mother is a Tiffany jewelry designer, his father is a lawyer, and he is a partner of a New York law firm. He rejoiced that the time now is --- April 2006!

Looking at the messy and dimly lit large living room, Andy turned on all the lights, the villa decoration was simple and bright, with white as the main color, European-style furniture, full of modernity, and a huge family photo hanging on the wall behind the sofa. According to the information found in his memory, his grandfather is of Chinese descent and his mother is of mixed blood. He has a quarter of Chinese ancestry and his family is very wealthy.

Andy was very clever since he was a child. He was proficient in piano and guitar and read various books. He wrote the first novel "Vampire Academy" at the age of sixteen, became famous, and then wrote "Paperweight". His novels made him a very famous young writer in the United States.

Andy took off his clothes, soaked himself in the large white and stylish bathtub, and watched the steaming water moisten the surrounding three mirror walls, and closed his eyes slightly to continue to remember. Until Papertown was bought by a Hollywood movie company, he was suddenly moved from New York to Los Angeles by his own wretched agent, and he applied for the University of Southern California.

Los Angeles, Hollywood.

In a world full of people who want to have fun, time is playing tricks on you. Someday you dream, and then your dream becomes a reality. It is a good time. If someone tells you that you made a mistake , Sad, learned a ruthless lesson, and when you indulge in meaningless woman fragrance, here, in the warm California sun, you will start to rot.

He lost his inspiration in the year and a half when he came to Hollywood, and is now experiencing the so-called crisis of life. In short, it is impossible to write anything. This is bad because he is a writer and professional writer. Now I can't even write a **** sentence.

Women, marijuana, alcohol, and drug abuse have messed up his otherwise healthy body, his sunken eye sockets, pale and sick complexion, and thin body. Against the height of his 188 cm, he became very strange. Finally, under the action of marijuana and alcohol, he fell into the swimming pool outside the house and was drowned, which made Song Dawei cheap.

Putting on pajamas, Song Dawei wandered around the villa, watching all the familiar and unfamiliar decorations and photos, watching the spacious study room full of books on the entire wall, the luxurious movie projection room, and marble Fitness room with billiard table and various fitness equipment. . . . . .

"Really ... it's like a dream." Andy watched the floor-to-ceiling windows where the sun came in and grabbed the messy hair. He spent the night trying to organize his memories and check the villa's condition. Not sleeping all night, but also the memory reorganization and the stimulation of marijuana and alcohol, not only did not let him lose his spirit, but he was abnormally excited.

Although Andy didn't understand why this happened, he didn't take it to heart, thinking that he was just excited when he knew the appendage had passed through.

As said before, this guy named Andy Smith became famous at a young age, selling book royalties and movie adaptation rights to about 5 million. His villa was bought by his parents for more than 2 million dollars. A grandpa The red Ferrari F430 valued at 250,000 US dollars, and the Porsche CARRERAGT of 460,000 euros.

Although the millionaires in the rich area like Los Angeles have a lot of money, it's not enough to look at the money, not to mention that Andy spent a year and a half of the time, without inspiration, could not write anything, and the mental distress let He was miserable, indiscriminate and drunkenly drunk. Until now, he did not know how much deposit was left. The memory still had a clear figure. It seemed that there were more than 2 million left. Fortunately, publishers would Put a new copyright fee into his account, as if both of his works were included in the catalog of books recommended by the American Department of Education for young people to read, and sales will increase again. This is a fixed income, maybe it is The only good news for Andy Smith before.

Anyway, I inherited everything, identity, life from him. I'm Andy Smith.

Andy shrugged, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and stretched his waist. Although his head still hurt, he began to think. So what do you do now?

Andy, still thinking, squinted slightly, blocking the glare of the sun, and licked some dry lips, an excitement that had never covered the whole body. It seemed that a passing current caused him to tremble slightly.