Hugo was quite sure that he had just been dazed by confusion, which was why he ran into the ladies' restroom. But… was there someone in the restroom earlier? Hugo realized he hadn't paid attention at all. If someone was there…
First, he became the first actor in Golden Raspberry Award history to personally show up and accept his award. Then, he broke down in tears and gratefully received what was the most humiliating trophy of his acting career. And now, he had buried himself in the ladies' restroom for nearly half an hour… Hugo felt deeply disheartened. No matter what his situation had been before the transmigration, it was clear that he had to bear all these consequences now.
Taking a deep breath, Hugo quickly opened the stall door in the restroom and immediately saw a burly man standing beside the stall door. About six feet two inches (1.88 meters) tall, weighing at least two hundred pounds (91 kilograms), an overwhelming pressure came at him like Mount Tai. Those ice-blue eyes were still the most vivid impression left in Hugo's mind this was Joseph Gibbs, the man who was, in name, his agent in this new body.
Hugo noticed that his eye level was roughly parallel to Joseph's, just slightly shorter, so he must be at least six feet tall (1.83 meters). As he raised his gaze slightly, he met Joseph's probing look. Hugo couldn't help but awkwardly shift his gaze to the makeup mirror on the right. Though he knew he had transmigrated and that this man named Joseph was the first person he met after arriving here, technically speaking, he and Joseph were still strangers. He had no idea what to say. What's more, if he said something inappropriate and Joseph noticed his soul had been replaced, that would be troublesome.
Hugo shifted his gaze to the mirror and saw what he looked like now not the self from his memories, nor any famous actor he could recall, but a completely unfamiliar face.
The well-defined facial features carried the typical ruggedness of Westerners, though not the sharp, chiseled features of a Greek god. There was a hint of Eastern softness mixed in. Those light brown eyes easily captured all attention within these peach blossom-shaped eyes, the mistiness and dreaminess were all hidden in the amber-colored lake-like pupils, clear and bright, looking half-drunk, half-awake. It was like springtime mist covering green mountains and lakes. Under the dim, milky-yellow restroom lighting, a faint halo glowed on them, making hearts race. His thick, black lying silkworm eyebrows slightly arched upward and seamlessly extended into his temples. Long, dense eyelashes and a high nose bridge outlined a well-defined, three-dimensional face, making those peach blossom eyes seem like two deep, mysterious lakes.[A/N:Damn]
Hugo froze for a moment this was indeed a very handsome face. Although there were countless attractive men and women in the world, and many in Hollywood who relied solely on looks to gain fame, Hugo had just received the Worst Actor award on the Golden Raspberry stage. It wasn't glorious, but he wouldn't overlook the "leading actor" part this meant the body's original owner had at least once played a leading role in Hollywood, not some nameless extra. Hugo could tell that this face likely played a large role in that. Yet, he couldn't find any trace of this actor in his own memory. It seemed this was just another disposable pretty face in Hollywood's survival of the fittest.
Hugo immediately noticed that the face in the mirror revealed a shocked expression, eyebrows drawing together into a faint "川" shape. That's when he realized the owner of this face was now himself. Being "startled" by his own beauty such a thought was downright strange. Hugo couldn't help but pat his own cheeks, and the slight pain that followed gave him a jolt of realism.
In terms of facial features alone, everyone's definition of beauty varies depending on personal aesthetic views, so this face wasn't necessarily breathtaking. But the key was that this face had a natural aura like a magnet attracting everyone's gaze, including Hugo's.
A smooth jawline bore faint stubble, making his slightly pursed, thin lips look incredibly soft. The "five o'clock shadow" paired with the dark-blond hair just short of the eyebrows had lost its original style from all the fidgeting Hugo had done earlier, now drooping casually in a lazy manner. It was clear this was naturally curly hair, though not severe, just slightly wavy in arcs that added to the free-spirited look. A faint classical charm spread subtly across his brows, giving this face a hard-to-describe allure. It was this kind of temperament, hidden in every expression and detail, that made it hard to look away.[A/N:😲]
This is me now? Hugo let out a long sigh it just didn't feel real. Even with the lingering sting from the slap on his cheek, it still didn't feel real.
"What are you still doing? Are you waiting for all the reporters to come swarming over and camp outside the ladies' room so tomorrow's headlines can have another juicy tidbit?" Joseph looked at the dazed Hugo, clearly confused and helplessly glanced at the restroom door. Tonight's situation had already gone off the rails they needed to get back immediately. He could only hope the public's focus would shift to tomorrow's opening of the 49th Golden Globe Awards.
Hugo retracted his gaze and looked at Joseph, pausing for a moment. "Oh, I just feel a little dizzy. Also, I'm really tired." It wasn't an excuse. Hugo immediately followed with a big yawn. Ever since he woke up, he'd felt exhausted, with his entire head foggy and unable to process anything. Earlier, he had only been swept up by the thrill of "stepping onto the stage of the Indie Rock Awards," so he hadn't noticed it. Now that the realization of transmigration had set in, the aches all over his body came crashing down. "What happened to me just now? Why did I faint… in the restroom?"
Hugo's words seemed to infuriate Joseph. His expression darkened instantly, and he snapped irritably, "You should be grateful you snapped out of it in time, or Kaka would've taken you straight to heaven to meet Jesus."
Seeing Joseph's terrible expression, Hugo finally understood. "You mean… drugs?" Hugo couldn't even speak fluently in the first person because he was so shocked. The life this body had lived before was really something. Not only had it been shunned with Golden Raspberry Awards, but it had also overdosed backstage during the award ceremony. That was practically broadcasting to every reporter: Hey, I've got a mountain of explosive news here come and get it!
No wonder Joseph kept asking if he was still high. Big Harry and Kaka were slang for heroin; no wonder everything felt so hazy when he first woke up, and his emotions were swinging so wildly. It reminded Hugo of Lindsay Lohan and Macaulay Culkin, who had both found fame young but lost themselves in Hollywood's glitz and glamour. This body had probably followed the same path, descending into the colorful, indulgent world, eventually dying and making way for him to inhabit this shell. No wonder this actor had such great presence, yet had achieved no success in recent years. He had destroyed his own future.
Drugs. In his ten years in the underground rock scene, Hugo had seen so many people flying high in the drug world, only to sink forever into that black sea of poppies. Even the most gifted genius couldn't escape the clutches of drugs. Death or Glory first guitarist, Zhang Xiaoye, had lost his life to drugs. Hugo had been right there, watching him drift into ecstasy, then into endless pain, and finally into a deep sleep. His vitality had bloomed like fireworks brilliant, then gone, never to wake again.
Thinking of that, Hugo shuddered. For the first time since crossing over, he truly felt the reality of being alive. Though he still hadn't fully adapted to this unfamiliar environment and foreign body, at least he was alive and that was something to be thankful for.
"Yes, I should be thankful," Hugo said after taking a deep breath. "I have to quit this damned stuff." He murmured quietly, but the words came out in English. Hugo could feel himself slowly integrating into this world.
Joseph heard Hugo's murmur but scoffed in disbelief. Clearly, he didn't believe Hugo's resolve at all. "Let's go. If you don't want to deal with those tails you can't shake, you'd better hurry."
Hugo froze for a moment before realizing Joseph was talking about paparazzi. Though he still felt sore all over, that was just physical. Mentally, he was totally fine. So he pulled himself together and quickly followed Joseph.
After leaving the restroom, Hugo only had time to glance at the hotel hallway no chance to admire the site of the very first Oscars. That left him reluctant to go. In his 25 years of life, he'd never even been abroad. And here he was, at Hollywood's Roosevelt Hotel in Los Angeles. Hugo did want to stay and explore like a tourist, but Joseph's urging gaze left him no choice but to quicken his pace and step into the elevator, shutting out the vintage hallway behind the iron doors.
Inside the elevator, neither Hugo nor Joseph said a word. Joseph thought Hugo was still coming down from the high, which explained his odd behavior. Hugo, on the other hand, didn't know what to say. Afraid that more words would just lead to more mistakes, he kept his mouth shut.
But the silence lasted less than a minute. When the elevator stopped at the basement floor and the doors opened, blinding flashes came pouring in. Hugo instinctively closed his eyes, the lights stabbing painfully into his head. He knew it was the damned drugs acting up again, but there was nothing he could do.
Peeking through his raised hand, Hugo saw people surging forward, forcing his foot—which had just stepped out to retreat. A loud voice asked, "Mr. Lancaster, you've been nominated for the Razzies three times in two years, and now you're the first actor in history to show up in person to accept the award. Is there a special reason? When you stood on stage crying, was there more behind it? Based on your acceptance speech, it seems like you're especially fond of this award is that true?"
The trouble wasn't over yet. Damn reporters…