Chapter 365: Chapter 364: LA Radio
Sliding into his Ferrari SP3 Daytona, Rex sank into the leather seat, fingers brushing the wheel like it was an old friend. The cabin smelled faintly of new leather mixed with that subtle metallic tang only high-performance machines carried. With a flick of his wrist, he pressed the ignition. The engine roared to life with a deep, resonant growl... an unmistakable reminder that he wasn’t just driving a car, he was commanding a beast on wheels.
Of course, Heads turned instantly... couples waiting at the curb, a valet across the lot, even a pair of teenagers filming on their phones. Rex smirked faintly at their reactions, this is what these types of cars are made for. The roar, the envy, and the satisfaction, shifting into gear with a casualness that only made the moment more maddening for those watching.
He leaned back, watching through the rearview mirror as Victor and Kaelan settled into their unremarkable sedan, still dutifully chewing the food he’d shoved into their hands. After waiting like this for a few minutes, enjoying the roar, or you could say music of the car, With a faint smirk tugging his lips, he gave them a nod, and wit then eased the Ferrari out into the fading glow of Los Angeles.
Los Angeles was alive in that magical, in-between hour. Neon flickered to life on one side of the street while the horizon still burned with the sun’s retreat, orange and purple streaks smeared across the sky like oil paint.
The kind of sunset that made even the grime of LA look romantic for a fleeting moment. Palms swayed lightly in the evening breeze, their silhouettes sharp against the glow. The city was equal parts chaos and beauty, and from behind the wheel of a Ferrari, Rex felt like he was slicing right through its heart.
He flicked on the radio, letting the stations cycle with every tap of his finger.
"...breaking local news tonight, the city council faces backlash over the new development project downtown. Residents are furious, claiming funds are being mismanaged. Protestors are blocking—" click
"...In sports, the Lakers pulled off a last-minute win last night, 107 to 105, keeping playoff hopes alive..."
Rex smirked, muttering, "LA’s heartbeat, traffic reports."
He twisted the dial.
"...in international headlines, tensions flare once again in Eastern Europe. Analysts warn the market could—" click
"...and in Hollywood, the buzz is all about rising star Monica. The so-called ’diva darling’ is reportedly clashing with crew members on her latest shoot. Sources say she’s showing a bad work attitude and acting arrogantly despite her young career..."
The male host’s voice was practically dripping with schadenfreude. "See? This is what happens when they get a little fame too fast. Hollywood eats its own."
The female host chimed in, "Oh, come on, you know the audience loves a downfall. She’s beautiful, talented—but maybe she’s not as sweet as people thought."
"—I swear to God, Rachel, Monica’s impossible. Diva behavior at twenty-three?"
"Oh please, James, they said the same about Marilyn, and look how that turned out. People don’t want perfect, they want drama. And Monica gives drama."
Rex’s lips curled faintly. He didn’t even bother to scoff. Just a low chuckle escaped him as he shifted gears, weaving through traffic with practiced ease. He’d spoken with Monica just this morning. She had already told him to expect knives in the dark. The smear campaign was nothing surprising; if anything, it was right on schedule.
"Hollywood really doesn’t change," he muttered, shaking his head lightly. "They can swallow scandals about predators and junkies like candy, but a little rumor about ’attitude’? That’s the story of the week. What a joke."
With a lazy flick, he changed the channel.
"...and speaking of scandals, the shocker of the night: celebrity golden couple Mark and Elaine have officially split after rumors of mutual infidelity. And get this... their secret lovers? Another couple, who were also cheating on each other! This isn’t a soap opera, it’s Tuesday in Hollywood. Anyways, this is officially Hollywood’s messiest square-dance breakup rectently!"
Rex let out a sharp laugh, teeth flashing in the rearview mirror at his own reflection. "Tch tch... Hollywood really is an abyss of corruption. But..." He tapped his finger against the steering wheel in rhythm with the Ferrari’s hum. "...I like this." he murmured, before clicking again.
An ad blared suddenly:
"Hungry, LA? Tired of sitting in traffic? Pull over and grab a fresh taco at Rico’s Tacos on Sunset! Open late, open loud, open for YOU!"
He rolled his eyes and skipped forward.
"...and once again, LA traffic is, well, LA traffic. If you’re stuck on the 405, we feel you. Estimated delays—forty-five minutes northbound, an hour southbound. Stay patient, stay caffeinated, Los Angeles."
Rex smirked. He knew the drill.
"Love, money, destiny! Call Madame Seraphina’s Psychic Hotline! First reading free. Don’t trust your boyfriend, trust the stars! That’s right, 1-800-SEE-FATE!"
Rex barked out a laugh. "Psychic hotline? LA never changes."
He flipped again... an ad blared:
"Need your carpets cleaned? Call 1-800-SCRUBBY. We’ll scrub the dirt, the wine, and even your ex’s bad energy. That’s right—SCRUBBY gets rid of it all!"
"Fuck, not another ad. And fuck your SCRUBBY!" He couldn’t help curse.
Switching again.
This time, a deep, conspiratorial voiced host spoke slowly:
"...they don’t want you to know the truth. The Griffith Park Observatory... it’s not just for stargazing. It’s a cover-up. Alien craft land there twice a year. I’ve seen them. Lizard people in bespoke suits. Hollywood agents aren’t human, folks."They’re experiments. Wake up, Los Angeles."
A caller interrupted, breathless:
"Bro! Bro, I swear my ex worked at a talent agency... she never blinked. Ever. Reptilian confirmed."
Rex laughed so hard he almost missed his turn. "Aliens and Hollywood agents. Sounds about right."
Next it was an upbeat Latin station, trumpets blaring, a DJ shouting in Spanglish:
"¡Buenas tardes, Los Angeles! Tonight, salsa night at Club Havana! Two-for-one mojitos until midnight—don’t miss it, mi gente!"
He let it play for a minute, tapping the wheel in rhythm, before switching again.
"...international headlines... tensions rise in the Middle East, shaking global oil markets. Meanwhile, Tokyo reports a breakthrough in semiconductor tech, sparking investor buzz worldwide..."
That caught his attention briefly, he filed it away for later, tonight he wasn’t in mood about business.
He flipped once more.
(End of Chapter)