The next day, everything that happened at the school gate appeared prominently in various newspapers, with plenty of pictures and coverage. Fortunately, since the incident took place in a public setting, there weren't just paparazzi present, but also a number of major newspaper reporters. As a result, the images and reports were relatively accurate.
However, many tabloids began to clamor again, claiming that Ryan Jenkins coldly turned away his biological parents and lacked sufficient morals and upbringing.
In contrast, the major newspapers were much more responsible, even publishing photos of the middle-aged woman and the drunk man getting physical. Especially The Los Angeles Times, which directly dug up the background of this so-called couple.
> "The family formed by Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins is one filled with alcohol, drugs, violence, and coldness. Michelle Jenkins, with no fixed occupation, currently works at a nightclub, has a brief history of drug use, and is a victim of domestic violence. Glennshire Jenkins, an unemployed truck driver with a 20-year history of alcoholism and a 12-year history of drug use, has no source of income and lives off government assistance. He has a clear tendency for violence and was once sentenced to three years in prison for assaulting another person!"
> "We're not going to discuss whether or not they are Ryan Jenkins' biological parents, nor do we care to ask why they are demanding custody of Ryan. We just want to ask—can such a family truly be beneficial to a child's healthy growth?"
> "Under the care of Ms. Nicole Kidman, Ryan is a sunny, cheerful, intelligent, and slightly mischievous boy. He is growing healthily in both mind and body. As he achieves more and more, he is becoming a role model for American youth. But just yesterday, this couple not only hurled abuse but even attempted to physically harm Ryan…"
"Damn it!"
Nicole threw the newspaper aside. If they hadn't been in a moving car right now, she would have...
"Alright, Nicole, I'm fine," Ryan tried to reassure her.
"Fine?" Nicole pointed to the picture of the drunk man raising his arm high. "I can't even imagine what would've happened if he had hit you!"
"No! I'm going to send him to jail!" Nicole pulled out her phone and dialed Attorney Wilson.
Ryan could only shrug helplessly. In fact, he had already contacted the lawyer yesterday. That couple certainly wouldn't have a good time in the coming days. Even if they truly were his biological parents—so what?
Forget about their past; just based on yesterday's events, trying to gain custody of him was a complete fantasy. Not to mention, they might not even be his parents.
He really had no idea where that pretty-boy actor had found such a pair of over-the-top individuals. They were even worse than the Rohans.
"Ryan, you need a bodyguard," Kingsley said from the front seat.
"I already have someone in mind," the boy replied.
"Someone in mind? Who?" Kingsley was a little surprised. She had handed him a list of potential drivers and bodyguards a month ago, and he hadn't responded since.
"Pat, go talk to him," Ryan recalled a face that looked like a movie star. "You should have seen him before—the security guard at St. John's Elementary School, the one named George! Don't be too quick to object, let me finish. He's a retired veteran, a former Marine who spent a long time in Somalia and the Middle East, working in security operations. After retiring this year, he couldn't find a suitable job and ended up temporarily working at St. John's."
Patricia Kingsley frowned and didn't give an immediate answer. "Alright, Ryan, I'll have someone run a background check. If everything checks out, I'll personally go talk to him."
"Okay." Ryan nodded.
After the three cars drove into Los Angeles International Airport, Nicole finally ended her phone call. Ryan could imagine the frown on Attorney Wilson's face when faced with her demands.
They were here to pick someone up—someone coming all the way from Montgomery County, Pennsylvania.
That's right, it was Ryan's proxy investor, Scott Swift, and his family. As the boy entrusted him with more and more funds, Mr. Swift finally decided to move from Montgomery County to Los Angeles.
As for whether young Taylor's life trajectory would change because of this, Ryan wasn't too concerned. In her previous life, Taylor had started her musical journey through a computer repairman. In this life, if needed, he could personally teach her. If, when she grows up, she still wants to go to the music capital of Nashville, that's fine too—after all, her father had made plenty of money these past two years.
After only a short wait, the Swift family came out. Scott was pushing a cart full of luggage, and Mrs. Andrea Swift was holding the one-and-a-half-year-old Taylor.
After greeting each other, Kingsley's assistants took over the luggage, and the group headed toward the airport parking lot. Ryan moved closer to the little girl.
"Hey, Taylor, do you remember me? I'm your Uncle Ryan!"
"I… don't know you~" the little girl said in a babyish voice.
"Oh, dear, that hurts my heart," Ryan said, putting on a heartbroken expression.
"Hmph~"
"Allison, have you forgotten? Ryan is the one who always sends you gifts…"
"Really? Mommy? Oh, I remember! He always sends a bunch of things—mostly purple and red, and hydrangeas too." The little girl spoke surprisingly smoothly, her big eyes fixed on the boy.
Ryan smiled and was just about to say something when her small pale hand reached out to him. "Ryan, so… where's today's gift?"
"Uh…"
The boy was caught off guard and patted all his pockets. Aside from a small wallet, he had nothing. He could only say, "How about I make it up to you next time?"
"Stingy!" The little girl huffed and turned away.
The three vehicles sped off toward Beverly Hills. In the past two years, Scott Swift had made quite a bit of money. Not only had he invested his own funds in the stocks Ryan mentioned, but the commission Ryan paid him was also a significant amount.
Because he often met with Ryan, he frequently traveled between Los Angeles and New York. Earlier this year, he bought a detached villa on the outskirts of Beverly Hills. Although it was much smaller than Ryan and Nicole's place, it was already a big house for a family of three.
After getting out of the car, the newly walking Taylor waddled into the yard. After looking around for a while, she pointed at the ginger-colored villa and asked, "Mommy, is this our new home? It's not as pretty as the farm~"
"Yes, sweetheart. This is where we'll be living from now on."
Everyone was old friends by now, so they helped with the luggage and moving things. The youngest minor was left in the care of another minor.
"Ryan~"
"Sweetheart, you should call me Uncle," Ryan corrected.
"Ryan! Ryan! Ryan!" the little girl shouted through gritted teeth.
"Okay, okay," Ryan raised his hands in surrender. "Call me whatever you want."
The little girl's eyes spun mischievously as she asked, "The gift… You weren't lying, right?"
Are kids this sharp at this age now? Weren't they supposed to forget things in the blink of an eye? Ryan scratched his cheek and could only nod.
Taylor plopped herself down on the garden lawn and pointed around. "Not pretty… No flowers. Hydrangeas… The Christmas tree farm, the garden… All flowers."
"No problem." If it's a problem money can solve, then it's not really a problem.
"Robins… a must!" the little girl said in her babyish tone, stretching her hand out again.
"Alright, I'll have someone buy one tomorrow."
"No." Taylor shook her head vigorously like a rattle drum. "Back on the farm, Daddy took me to catch them. I want you to catch one for me."
Ryan's face turned pale. He had no idea what to say. Though American cities do a great job with greenery and wildlife protection, where was he supposed to find a robin?
"You're… stingy." The little girl scrunched her nose so much it nearly touched her forehead.
Ryan was truly helpless. Kids this age were a special class of their own. Was he really going to reason with her? Don't be ridiculous. If he said a few more words, she'd probably cry right then and there.
"Not today, it's getting dark," Ryan looked up at the sun still hanging high in the sky and started bluffing.
"Well… alright. I'll have Mommy remind me about this. And… two!" The little girl first showed her whole hand, then retracted four fingers, thought about it, and added one back.
Thankfully, the furniture in the villa was already prepared. The furniture the Swifts brought wasn't much, so not long after, Mrs. Andrea took Taylor away. Otherwise, Ryan might have had a meltdown. Kids at that age were really a handful.
He figured he should appear less often until she grew out of toddlerhood. Ryan had a new realization.
His throat felt a little itchy, so after a glass of water, he sat down and began to think—not about all the recent chaos, but about how he realized he was entering puberty. It wasn't obvious yet, but he could feel it: his voice was starting to shift into that of a young man.
I'm not even twelve yet! Ryan smiled bitterly. Well, he knew that after entering the 21st century in his past life, this was becoming a common phenomenon.
Still, he didn't eat KFC or McDonald's, and avoided Burger King and Pizza Hut like the plague. Yet here he was, entering puberty early.
Of course, it wasn't without its upsides. At the very least, his voice and vocal cords would mature earlier, which meant he wouldn't need to worry too much about his singing career.
Also, he should probably visit Hollywood Records. They had professionals who could guide young singers through vocal training during puberty. He definitely didn't want to damage his vocal cords permanently through improper practice.
As night fell, the Swift couple held a small party in their garden. There were very few attendees—just the three of them and a few assistants who had helped out. After the party, they were going to have a serious conversation about the future.