Chapter 32: As usual
Within the embrace of the New York night, there was a distinct charm. It was as if the 21st-century Broadway stage was staging the scene of a 1930s cabaret dance. Melodies of song and dance filled the air, gazes shone with anticipation, and there was merriment in raising a toast while singing. On this modern soil, a decadent and indulgent temperament bloomed. Despite knowing this was a realm of darkness, a quagmire of fame and fortune, one still hesitated to leave. Surrendering oneself, staying a little while longer, and then a bit longer.
A homeless man squatted at a street intersection, muttering curses that were critical of the Obama administration's healthcare policies. Next to him, men and women waiting for the traffic light were laughing heartily. Thin tank tops and sensual fishnet stockings braved the chilly wind of March. Not far away, a woman leaned against a Cadillac parked in a space, retching violently, as if she wanted to expel all her internal organs. Her companions two steps behind were discussing where to go for the next round of revelry. On the sidewalk, white-collar workers, having just concluded their day's work, buttoned up their overcoats and briskly navigated through the bustling and desolate streets coexisting.
It had been a while, truly a while. From the southern hemisphere of Australia back to the northern hemisphere of North America, the sights in Renly's view seemed to have instantaneously transitioned from paradise to hell. Even Melbourne and Sydney couldn't find a moment's resemblance. This made Renly feel somewhat unfamiliar, yet strangely familiar.
Not far away, the subtle lemon-yellow neon lights of Village Vanguard were submerged amidst the vibrant and colorful lights nearby. The deep brown wooden door emitted a sense of timelessness and antiquity. Newspapers with yellowed pages in the display window continued to narrate "news" from the 1920s, seemingly out of sync with New York's atmosphere yet uniquely blending with Greenwich Village. This was why old New Yorkers like Woody Allen had an enduring affection for this area.
To his surprise, Renly found himself unconsciously picking up the pace. Though he had only lived in the city for three months, he could smell the essence of home. Was it because the gloomy weather here reminded him of the incessant rain of London?
Pushing open the creaking heavy wooden door, an area separated by a red curtain appeared before him—the reception area. A warm atmosphere greeted him. "Good evening, welcome to Village Vanguard," the receptionist Janis Black's familiar smoky voice resonated immediately.
"Good evening. Is there an available spot?" Renly smiled, and the old regular customer Andy beside him looked surprised. He was about to speak when Renly put a finger to his lips, gesturing for him to stay quiet.
Unfortunately, Renly's ruse didn't last long. Janis looked up and her eyes widened in surprise. "Hey, buddy! You're back!" Fifty-five-year-old Janis, with her corpulent figure, represented the typical pear-shaped physique of middle-aged American women. Whenever possible, she liked to sit behind the reception desk. But now, she was stepping out cheerfully, despite her ponderous gait, and enveloped Renly in a big hug. "Jesus Christ, you look just like a hick from Australia."
Renly burst into laughter at her hearty banter. Janis patted his back firmly. "How long were you gone? I'm starting to lose track of time."
"That's not the point. The point is I'm back now, isn't that what matters?" Renly's words caused Janis to nod in satisfaction. In fact, he had only worked here for three months, but he had been away for over seven months. Nevertheless, he could still feel the deep imprint he had left in this bar, as if he had never left at all.
Unveiling the crimson curtain, Renly stepped back into the interior of the bar. It was Wednesday, and about half of the seats in the bar were occupied. A female singer sat on a high stool on the stage, humming the seductive melody of jazz. "Hey, Renly, you're back, big actor! You've finally shown up. I almost thought you disappeared. My goodness, the Australian aborigines actually released the hostage..." As they enjoyed the music from their seats, the regular customers caught sight of Renly's figure and greeted him one after another. The seven months of absence gradually shortened beneath his footsteps until they vanished.
As Renly reached the bar counter, Neil Thompson raised a glass of tequila high in the air. With a snap, he placed it on the table, the translucent alcohol splashing and refracting the bar's intoxicating colors. "Welcome back! So, do you dare to take on the challenge? Didn't you turn as stupid and boring as them after half a year in Australia?"
Renly didn't respond; he lifted his glass, raised it high, and turned around to gesture to the bar. The regulars raised their own glasses, and the unfamiliar patrons watched this scene with enthusiasm. The liberating and friendly atmosphere of Village Vanguard was vividly displayed in this moment. Then, Renly brought the glass to his lips, downed its contents, and swiftly placed it upside down on the bar, all in one fluid motion.
"Nice one!" cheers erupted around him. Everyone lifted their glasses and drank their spirits. The jazz vocalist on the stage couldn't help but turn her gaze towards the bar, witnessing this unexpected spectacle.
"So, how's Steven Spielberg doing?" Neil inquired with curiosity, his face brimming with interest. There was no barrier between them, no need for formalities. It was as if they had been standing behind the bar talking just last night.
Renly shrugged. "A bit of a scoundrel?" His candid words made Neil nod earnestly, agreeing, "I knew it."
Of course, that was just a joke. Like Tom Hanks, Steven had stayed with the Australian crew for about a month and a half. Almost every day, they were discussing with executive producers, directors, writers, and cinematographers to ensure the series was on the right track from a macro perspective. Even when they visited the set, they were behind the monitors, fully immersed in their work.
As an actor, Renly had limited contact with Steven and Tom, who were producers. Not to mention any opportunities for real conversations. This gave Renly a preliminary understanding of the roles of producers, directors, and actors.
As they talked, a customer nearby came over and ordered eight beers. Neil immediately opened the nearby tap and began pouring beer, one glass after another, onto the bar counter. He glanced at Renly, raising his chin. "What are you waiting for? Serve the customer." His demeanor was indeed the same as seven months ago, completely unchanged.
Renly placed his backpack onto the bar counter. He had just gotten off the plane and hadn't gone home; he came straight to the bar. "Idiot, when did you see me carrying four glasses at a time? I'm not a little girl." With no jet lag to worry about, Renly had returned to his usual self.
After pouring all eight beers, Renly flexed his fingers, then spread his long fingers wide. He held four glasses in one hand, securely grasping them all, and turned around, lifting them high in the air. "Alcohol alert, alcohol alert," he yelled while quickly making his way over.
After serving the beers, Renly exchanged greetings with the other waitstaff in the bar and returned to the counter. From a distance, he spotted Stanley Richardson, his face beaming with a fatherly warmth, waiting in place as if awaiting the return of a prodigal child. Renly hastened his steps and playfully bumped into Stanley's shoulder. "Hey, old man, I came here today specifically for an interview. Do you still need waitstaff here?"
Filming of "The Pacific" had wrapped up, and his paychecks were gradually coming in. However, Renly knew these payments were just startup funds. To handle the upcoming promotional period would require substantial expenditure, an investment in the future. So, until he found his next job, he needed to return to his previous life. Some things had changed, and some hadn't.
"You're hired!" Stanley shook his plump index finger with a grin, radiating an affectionate expression reminiscent of a father's warmth.
Renly couldn't help but smile. While he had a good relationship with Stanley, Village Vanguard wasn't a charity. After being absent for seven months, things must have changed significantly. Unexpectedly, this simple reunion made Renly feel the familiarity and intimacy that remained as always.
This kind of life, isn't it tenfold, a hundredfold more exciting than a rigid, minute-by-minute schedule?
"By the way." Renly remembered something important. "Neil, give me my backpack." After receiving the backpack from Neil, Renly pulled out a bunch of leather braided bracelets and laid them on the bar counter. "These are bracelets I learned to weave from Australian aborigines." Renly shook his right wrist, adorned with a string of blue and red bracelets. "Each one has a different meaning." Renly selected a few and handed them to Stanley. "This one is for wishing good health."
Stanley accepted them. "Ah, now I look like those stallions running on the beach with surfboards." His teasing comment made Renly burst into laughter.
Neil was even more straightforward. He picked out four or five bracelets and promptly fastened them around his wrist. "Man, are you using these to deceive those naive young girls?"
"You know, even without these, I can easily find companions." Renly's confidently playful response caught Neil off guard. He choked for a moment, then rolled his eyes, deciding to ignore the guy before him, who was beaming with a brilliant smile. "Stanley, you don't need to wear them. It's just a blessing. They don't match your suit. Hang them on your dressing table mirror at home; that should be enough."
Nevertheless, Stanley still put on the bracelets, patting Renly's chest with a smile. "I really like this gift. I'm already sixty-five years old, and some blessings are very important to me." This brought laughter to Renly and Neil. "But you know, compared to this gift, there's another gift I like even more."
Renly blinked, then noticed Stanley's gaze directed towards the stage. The jazz singer who had just performed had finished. "That was the last performance tonight, but I think tonight is a good opportunity for an encore."
Renly suppressed a smile, helplessly spreading his hands. "So, does my employment start from tonight?"
CREATORS' THOUGHTS 
Shallowman
Shallowman Yep it does duh
32th or 1203th chupster? I lost the count... anyway take it, you suckers!
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