A new house means a new beginning.
More space, better privacy, and a more stable life.
The car merged into the traffic, heading towards their current residence.
Tracy discussed upcoming work with Landon in low tones: location filming for 24 hours, preparations before joining the cast of A Beautiful Mind, several potential advertising offers... Rachel listened from the back seat, occasionally chiming in.
The topics were trivial, yet they carried a sense of grounded warmth.
Landon held the steering wheel, his peripheral vision catching Tracy's beautiful profile, while glimpsing Rachel's lively expression in the rearview mirror.
The California afternoon sun streamed through the car window, feeling warm and cozy.
The faint, restless anxiety that had been in his heart lately seemed to be quietly smoothed away by the light.
The road ahead was long, the acting had to continue, and there would be no shortage of trouble—Amanda was still like an unexploded bomb, Mia and Elisha's gazes on set were becoming increasingly direct, and the unspoken secrets surrounding Tracy still remained.
But at least they had a place where they could close the door and take a quiet breath.
A backyard with a pool, a small lawn, and a few flowering trees.
To him now, this was probably the most real and most desired part of the grand dream that was "Hollywood."
After the lease agreement was signed, moving was put on the agenda.
Although it was called moving, the belongings of the three were not actually that many.
Landon had the fewest things; he had driven his ford explorer to Los Angeles with only a suitcase and a backpack at the time.
Of course, he had added some clothes and daily necessities later, but it was only two more cardboard boxes.
Rachel had a bit more, but most of it was clothes and cosmetics, so packing was quick.
Tracy, however, surprised Landon a bit.
He had originally thought this female Agent, who always wore sophisticated professional suits, would stand aside and give directions, at most helping to pack some light items.
He didn't expect her to actually roll up her sleeves and reach for the sundries and boxes with those hands that usually signed contracts and held pens, somewhat breaking his 'filter' for her.
In the afternoon, sunlight slanted into the apartment's living room, casting long patches of light on the floor.
Tracy was wearing a white cotton T-shirt from Leon and jeans on her upper body, her long hair casually tied in a ponytail with a few stray strands falling across her forehead.
She squatted in front of the bookshelf, carefully sorting and packing Landon's few books with fluid movements, though she occasionally paused—a slight hesitation that revealed her lack of experience.
Rachel was in charge of the bedroom, humming a song as she folded clothes and put them into boxes.
She would occasionally hold up a piece of clothing and ask Landon if he still wanted it, folding it more carefully upon receiving an affirmative answer.
Standing in the center of the living room, Landon watched these two women who had suddenly become important in his life, feeling momentarily dazed.
Tracy was carefully wrapping ceramic mugs in bubble wrap, doing so with extreme care.
Rachel came out of the bedroom holding folded shirts, fine beads of sweat on her forehead, but her eyes were curved in a smile.
There was a strange sense of dissonance in this scene, yet it was inexplicably harmonious.
"What's wrong?" Tracy asked, looking up as she noticed his gaze.
"Nothing," Landon looked away, his voice softening, "I just didn't expect you to do these things."
Tracy's movements paused for a moment before she continued wrapping the bubble wrap.
"What did you think I'd be like? Standing aside in a suit, using my phone to arrange next week's schedule, and casually reminding you that moving expenses are tax-deductible?"
"Something like that."
She smiled softly without looking up.
"Landon, before you appeared, my daily life was indeed spent learning to do those things. Documents, procedures, observing the working methods of senior Agents."
She carefully placed the wrapped mug into the box. "You are the first artist I've truly started managing independently. So these practical tasks aren't new to me; I've done them before."
In less than two hours, all the luggage from both apartments was packed.
The boxes were stacked neatly in the center of the living room.
The sky outside had darkened, and the streetlights were flickering on one by one.
"We still have to stay here for one last night," Tracy said, checking her watch. "I've already arranged for a cleaning service to do a deep clean of the new house. We'll move in tomorrow."
All three were tired. After a quick wash, they squeezed onto the sofa to watch TV, just as they had the previous two nights.
The sofa was small, and Landon was still sandwiched in the middle, flanked by warm body heat and faint scents—Tracy smelled of cool cedar perfume, while Rachel had a sweet floral-fruity fragrance.
Season six of Friends was playing on the television.
But no one was really watching; they just let the light and sound fill the quiet space.
Landon felt Rachel's head rest gently on his shoulder.
He turned his head and saw her long eyelashes casting shadows in the dim light, her cheeks flushed with a faint post-shower glow.
She seemed to sense his gaze and looked up, her eyes sparkling in the dimness.
Then, naturally, they kissed.
Rachel's lips were soft and warm, with the coolness of mint toothpaste.
The kiss deepened, and Landon's hand moved to the back of her neck, his fingers threading through her slightly damp hair.
Just as he was about to lose himself in the kiss, there was a slight movement from the other side.
He opened his eyes and saw Tracy watching them quietly, her eyes full of tenderness and anticipation.
Then, something unexpected happened.
Tracy leaned in and began making out with Rachel again, completely ignoring him as if he weren't there.
This recurring, surreal, and beautiful scene made Landon forget to breathe for a moment.
There was a profound meaning in her eyes.
What happened afterward spiraled out of control once again.
When the first light of dawn peeked through the gaps in the blinds, Landon opened his eyes,
seeing Tracy and Rachel sleeping on either side of him, their breathing steady, their faces wearing expressions of exhaustion and satisfaction.
And Landon, quite unusually, did not get up to exercise.
A new day had begun.
The moving process went more smoothly than expected.
Tracy contacted a professional moving company, and several workers efficiently moved the packed boxes downstairs, loaded the truck, and drove to the new home in Sherman Oaks.
Landon followed in his Ford SUV, with Rachel in the passenger seat and Tracy in the back.
"Excited?" Rachel asked softly while waiting at a red light.
"A little," Landon admitted. "After all, this counts as my first real 'home' in Los Angeles."
"Isn't it rented?" Rachel blinked.
"A rental is still a home," Tracy said from the back seat, her voice carrying the characteristic rasp of early morning. "In this city, finding a place that makes you want to return is already quite an achievement."
The car entered the Sherman Oaks community, where the streets were quiet and tidy, and the houses on both sides looked particularly cozy in the morning light. When they stopped in front of the new home, the cleaning team had just finished their work and was loading their tools into their vehicle.