Hollywood: The Greatest Showman

Chapter 80: Deviation of Mentality

Chapter 80: Deviation of Mentality

Rodrigo looked at Ryan in front of him, impeccably dressed in a suit, energetic, with a smile on his face, and his demeanor was impeccable.

However, in Rodrigo's mind, he couldn't help but think of Renly's attire today—for an audition, Renly's outfit was undoubtedly inappropriate. A shirt paired with jeans was too casual, making him look like a... foreman of a transport team. But it was precisely this casualness that successfully outlined the image of Paul Conroy. Obviously, Renly came prepared.

"I thought you would call ahead, but I didn't expect you to come to New York in person." Rodrigo tidied up the cluttered thoughts in his mind. Ryan was not only his first choice, but he had been since he saw the script for "Buried". He had to pull himself together and seize this opportunity.

Ryan had also regained his composure by now and showed a proper smile. "Because I couldn't sit in Los Angeles waiting. I needed to meet you immediately, face to face, to understand your ideas." Ryan's tone was cheerful and eager. "God, this is such a brilliant script, I absolutely love it! So, I decided to give you a surprise. Ta-da!"

Rodrigo couldn't help but feel pleasantly surprised. The actor he had dreamt of expressing such enthusiasm was overwhelming. Rodrigo was so happy that he didn't even know where to put his hands. "To know that you like it means everything to me. It's truly an honor." Rodrigo wiped the sweat from his palms.

Ryan glanced around, noticing the increasing crowd around them. Although everyone pretended to be busy, the scattered glances continued, and the buzzing noise persisted.

"I wonder if we could find a quieter place to have a deeper conversation," Ryan said, turning his gaze back to Rodrigo. He flashed a big smile. "I still have some aspects of the script and the project that I don't quite understand, and I hope we can discuss them further."

Rodrigo could feel Ryan's superiority—although unintentional, it was there. Rodrigo had begged Ryan to play "Buried", and now, with Ryan, a rising star, joining, he indeed had the capital to be superior. Moreover, Ryan had skipped the part of the agent and came directly to New York, giving Rodrigo enough attention.

Clear in reasoning, but Rodrigo couldn't help but think of Renly again. Renly didn't mind the noisy environment of the youth hostel, and his performance wasn't disturbed either. Renly understood the script's intent and even offered his insights...

"This place is quiet enough. They are all very friendly here and won't disturb us," Rodrigo said, his excited emotions gradually settling down. After the excitement of their initial meeting, reason slowly returned.

Rodrigo knew that Ryan's appearance meant a significant possibility of cooperation, but it didn't guarantee its fruition. Ryan still needed to understand the situation further. Conversely, he believed Ryan was the best choice for playing Paul, but that was only his own speculation. He still needed to measure Ryan's actual abilities.

Rodrigo, being a Spaniard in the United States, didn't have any advantages on native soil. He wasn't a globally renowned master like Pedro Almodóvar, just a newcomer. "Buried" was crucial for him; it might be the stepping stone to Hollywood. So, he hoped more than anyone else that this work would meet expectations and succeed.

Rodrigo took the initiative to sit down, and after a moment's hesitation, Ryan followed suit. Scarlett patted Ryan's chest softly and whispered, "I won't disturb your audition. Go out and get some fresh air, then come back later."

During auditions, actors needed absolute concentration. This wasn't a social occasion with producers, so Scarlett chose to step aside temporarily, giving Ryan space to perform freely.

Ryan smiled and patted Scarlett's hand on his chest, whispering back, "Won't be long."

"Good luck," Scarlett stood up and then smiled brightly at Rodrigo. "Director, I won't disturb your man-to-man conversation. I hope everything goes smoothly."

Rodrigo nodded awkwardly. Ryan's word about not taking too long touched a sensitive nerve—what did that mean? Did he not value him? Or did he think this project wasn't worth spending too much time on? Or did Ryan feel that everything was already set in stone? But facing Scarlett's smile, Rodrigo composed himself, smiled back, and nodded, watching Scarlett's graceful figure leave the lobby.

Rodrigo's gaze returned to Ryan, showing a humble smile. "Ryan, what part of the script impressed you the most? If you don't mind, you could perform it directly, and we can discuss it in professional terms." Rodrigo could feel Ryan's muscles tensing slightly, but his words continued without pause. "I know this project is a tough test for actors, which is why I immediately thought of you. So, what do you think of the script and the character?"

Ryan felt a little choked up. Shouldn't he be the one taking the lead? Shouldn't he be the one controlling the pace? Why... did things seem a bit off?

Scarlett left the lobby of the youth hostel. Outside was a small courtyard, not very spacious, even smaller than half a basketball court, but it had two plane trees. The dense shade almost covered the entire yard, and sparse sunlight filtered through the mottled leaves, casting brown soil that housed various plants. Clumps of ivy climbed up the wall, and the scent of recent rain lingered, mingling with the freshness of the surrounding greenery.

At first glance, Scarlett saw the man named Renly standing at the gate as if gazing at another world through a window. His casual and messy plaid shirt enveloped his broad shoulders, and his silhouette was visible against the backlight, serene and elegant, yet bursting with a momentary brilliance.

"Do you need a lighter?" Scarlett's footsteps stopped beside the man, standing at a similar angle, gazing out, trying to appreciate what the man had been gazing at earlier—the undulating road of Amsterdam Street stretching quietly in the sight.

His hoarse voice was not as rough as a smoker's, but more like a cat's paw, short and sharp nails lightly rubbing in the palm, lazily carrying a hint of sensuality. There was no need to turn his head to know it was Scarlett.

"Hmm?" Renly raised his voice slightly, seeming a bit puzzled by Scarlett's opening remark.

Scarlett pursed her lips, directly rolling her eyes in response, answering with a disdainful look, "You should know that the only reason many people smoke is to smoke it; if you want to pretend to have noble character, you can choose a pipe, or at least a cigar."

Renly lowered his head to look at the cigarette in the corner of his mouth, smiling wryly. It was just a small habit from his previous life.

He used to be a heavy smoker, the monotonous life almost left him no breathing space. In college, he smoked a pack and a half a day, and even if he wanted to quit, he couldn't. Moreover, he didn't want to quit. Under the heavy pressure of life, smoking was his only pastime—he didn't play games, he didn't participate in sports, his alcohol tolerance was not good, and cigarettes were his only support. If he didn't even have cigarettes, he didn't know how long he could hold on.

After the car accident and hospitalization, let alone the hospital not allowing smoking, even if it did, he couldn't smoke. Under duress, he was forced to quit smoking, and compared to high-level paralysis, the pain and torture of quitting smoking seemed negligible, much easier than imagined.

After rebirth, he could smoke again, but he was no longer so persistent. Not because he had seen too many cases of lives ruined by smoking in the hospital in his previous life, but because after experiencing death, nicotine was no longer important.

Holding a cigarette was more like a habit now—a habit of thinking, a habit of reminiscing, a bodily habit. It helped him concentrate, helped him think; he carried a pack of cigarettes with him, but he hadn't lit one in a long, long time.

"How do you know this isn't cannabis? I haven't lit it because I don't want the police officer at the street corner to eye me," Renly responded, not irritated at all. Instead, he chuckled softly, removing the cigarette from his lips and putting it back into the pack.

Scarlett's gaze fell on Renly's fingers—long and sturdy, akin to bamboo nodes. His simple movements were like pieces of art, capturing her attention. She scrutinized the cigarette closely. "So, is it cannabis?"

"Do you need a smoke?" Renly didn't deny it but instead said, using it as a segue, his right hand grabbed the cigarette case and then used his index finger to push the corner of the cigarette case lightly, turning it around. "I thought you needed to stay alert today. You know, Ryan is auditioning, and you are his strongest support."

"His career doesn't need..." Scarlett began to speak casually, but before she finished her sentence, she realized it and showed a playful smile. "I thought you guys were competitors. Ryan's failure should be something you'd enjoy."

Renly shrugged, nodding with a smile, "Fact." He admitted Scarlett's words candidly, which caught Scarlett off guard, and she chuckled. "I won't argue because as a competitor, I don't have many chips in my hand. It's not easy to turn the tables with this hand."

"Real poker masters know how to bluff," Scarlett's eyes flashed slightly, saying with a smile that wasn't a smile.

Renly raised his eyebrow slightly, "So, do you think I'm bluffing now, or do I hold the winning hand?"