[Chapter 402: The Pickup]
When people talked about the Disco Demolition Night, they couldn't overlook the film Grease, starring John Travolta, which premiered in 1978. This disco-themed musical not only topped the box office that year but also made history by being the first film to release a soundtrack album.
That album broke sales records that would remain unmatched for many years and propelled the disco music industry to new heights. However, that peak didn't last long. A year after Grease hit theaters, an incidental event sparked the "Disco Sucks" movement, which aimed to undermine disco music.
In Eric's view, this movement clearly involved a struggle for interests. Much like the later struggles Michael Jackson faced, the rise of disco music, which had low production costs, significantly impacted the traditional recording industry. This prompted big players in the conventional record business to manipulate the media and incite a backlash against disco, spurred by that accidental event.
As Eric chatted with Kathryn about these events, he caught sight of two girls approaching out of the corner of his eye.
The girls walked up to him, and Eric realized they were there for him. He looked up and saw one girl with a ponytail, whose expression was shy as she slightly lowered her head. The other girl, sporting a shoulder-length bob with fair skin, wore a shiny black sequin dress that sparkled under the lights.
The short-haired girl, noticing Eric's gaze, mustered the courage to ask, "Excuse me, are you Eric Williams?"
Eric didn't answer but rather looked at the woman sitting next to him with surprise. "Look, Kathryn, someone mistook me for Eric Williams again. But I think I should look a bit better than him, don't you?"
Kathryn shot Eric a disapproving look and said nothing. Meanwhile, the two girls exchanged glances, unsure if they should leave.
But Eric stood up, extended his hand to the fair-skinned girl, and introduced himself. "Hi, I'm Allen, Allen Fisman."
The girl in the sequined dress reached out to shake his hand. "Hi, Allen, you can call me Charlotte. This is Alice."
Eric shook hands with the ponytail girl next to Charlotte, smiling as he asked, "Can I buy you a drink?"
The two girls glanced at Kathryn, who remained indifferent. Charlotte then nodded. "Sure."
So, under Kathryn Bigelow's unimpressed gaze, Eric led the two girls to the bar, ordered a few drinks, and stayed there chatting with them. Within five minutes, Eric had them laughing and the short-haired girl, Charlotte, was playfully punching him with her small fists, seemingly wanting to be closer to him.
Kathryn, watching Eric place his hands on the exposed waist of the ponytailed girl, could no longer contain herself and muttered, "What a lech, claiming it's his first time at a place like this."
Just as she considered leaving early, a Caucasian man in his thirties approached her. "Excuse me, miss, can I sit here?"
Kathryn's first instinct was to glance over at Eric, but she felt disappointment as he seemed oblivious to what was happening, still dancing with the two girls. His hands were now slung around the waist of the short-haired girl, with a slight downward movement.
"Sorry, sir, this seat is taken," Kathryn said coldly, focusing on Eric's hands for a few moments before returning her gaze to the man.
"Are you referring to that guy?" The man indicated toward Eric with a smile. "I doubt he'll be back soon. Honestly, it's quite rude to leave a lady here alone while dancing with other girls."
As he spoke, he sat down beside her. "Allow me to introduce myself; I'm Bernie Wesley, and I work on Wall Street."
Since he was polite, Kathryn felt it was unnecessary to keep being aloof, so she introduced herself simply. "Kathryn."
"Kathryn, I actually noticed you a while back. You have a quiet and restrained charm; you really shouldn't be here. Let me guess, you're a doctor... lawyer... accountant?"
Bernie Wesley made several wild guesses. Seeing that he was set to continue, Kathryn finally said, "I'm a director."
Bernie Wesley exhibited no sign of embarrassment. Though he wasn't well-versed in Hollywood, he was aware of some of its unwritten rules. "I can't believe it; you're so pretty. If you told me you were an actress, I'd find that easier to believe. Being a director isn't something women usually do."
Even though his tone didn't carry any disdain, Kathryn found his comments somewhat offensive, and her brow furrowed slightly. Bernie, clearly adept at reading people, quickly backtracked. "Of course, there are many talented female directors in Hollywood. By the way, what projects have you produced? Maybe I should check them out?"
"You wouldn't be interested," Kathryn replied.
Bernie misunderstood her indifference towards her work, judging her age, he assumed she must be no more than thirty. At that age, even male directors often struggled to create significant work, let alone women. He pivoted quickly and said, "Do you have any projects you're interested in? You know, our company actually invests in Hollywood. If you have a good script, I might be able to help you."
Unexpectedly, Kathryn showed no sign of interest. She calmly said, "Thanks, but I'll pass."
"Don't be so absolute. Why not leave me a way to contact you? You never know when it might come in handy for you."
Kathryn, who was usually patient, was starting to feel irritated by his insistence. She spoke bluntly, "Mr. Wesley, if it's alright, I'd like to have a moment to myself."
"Oh, come on, Kathryn, this is a dance club!" Bernie seemed clueless about her irritation, smiling as he suggested, "How about we dance together? If you don't know how, I can..."
Before he could finish, he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see two tall men in suits had suddenly appeared behind him.
"Sir, please don't bother the lady," one of them said.
Thinking that these overzealous security guards had misstepped, Bernie planned to reprimand them, relying on his connections with the club's owner.
However, he quickly recognized a difference; these men lacked the roughness typical of bouncers. Their appearance may have seemed unremarkable, but the stern aura they exuded was characteristic of professionals trained in handling serious situations -- they likely had military backgrounds or were even former special forces.
Realizing that someone of importance would have such bodyguards was not someone he could afford to mess with, Bernie Wesley stood up, made an apologetic gesture toward Kathryn, and awkwardly walked away.
Kathryn quietly thanked Eric's bodyguards, who simply nodded before retreating to an unnoticeable corner.
Looking back at the dance floor, she noticed Eric glancing in her direction and giving her a thumbs-up. It was clear that the two men who had rescued her were sent by him. To her surprise, she felt a slight sense of comfort, realizing he had been watching her.
As a single woman sitting alone on the couch, Kathryn was used to unsolicited advances, and Bernie Wesley wasn't the only one interested. The people who had been trying to flirt with her, who had been waiting for Bernie Wesley to return in vain, noticed what had just happened and stopped approaching her. Soon, the absence of suitors made her even more conspicuous, and many guests found it amusing to talk about the solo woman who dominated the couch without anyone daring to approach her.
After some more antics with the two girls, Eric left the dance floor, intending to take Kathryn back to the hotel.
Seeing Eric prepare to leave, the short-haired girl pulled her companion along.
...
As they exited the club and walked down the alley, the girl in the sequined dress had already worn a dark trench coat. She glanced over at Kathryn, who was walking silently next to Eric, and, gathering her courage, said to Eric, "Allen, why don't you come sit with us for a while?"
"Huh?" Eric thought he misheard.
But the short-haired girl continued, "I mean, why not come sit with us? Alice and I are living together, you know."
The implication was clear, and Alice, the pony-tailed girl behind her, playfully pinched Charlotte for being bold, looking up at Eric with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.
"Let's pass on that, it's too late now," Eric chuckled, thinking maybe things were getting a bit too provocative for his liking.
Even though he declined the girls' invitation, he kindly hailed a taxi for them before he and Kathryn hopped into the car sent by the bodyguards.
Just a short distance away in the taxi, Charlotte, glancing back at Eric getting into a black car, sighed softly. Alice turned to her and asked, "What's wrong, Charlotte?"
"Didn't you notice? He really is Eric Williams."
*****
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