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68.5% The Legendary Actor / Chapter 411: Cut for the role

Chapitre 411: Cut for the role

"What I mean is, what do you enjoy doing besides writing?"

Renly's words pulled Will out from the tangle of his thoughts, though his mind remained somewhat muddled. He couldn't help but wonder, what should he do? Should he perhaps modify the script? But how? Where to begin? Was there enough time?

Countless thoughts surged in his mind, to the point that his response was less than fluid. "Running, and music too." Will's words stumbled, interspersed with numerous hesitations that disrupted the rhythm of his speech. "I mean, running while listening to music."

"Then I guess we have something in common," Renly's jest successfully elicited a smile from Will. It seemed that the impulsive run in the rain a moment ago hadn't been in vain. "I thought you were a bit of a homebody. You know, immersed in your own world of words, not quite sure how to strike up a conversation with a girl, not too skilled in sports..."

"Yes, yes, I know the type you're describing." Will chuckled and nodded, "I suppose I am something of a homebody. I've always been passionate about expressing myself through words, much like this script. But I'm also quite risk-averse."

Risk-averse.

This was an interesting way of putting it, and Renly added, "Health-conscious." In essence, it conveyed the same meaning, yet the difference in expression revealed nuances of their personalities.

Will hesitated for a moment, then nodded in agreement. "Yes, I am health-conscious." He broke into a broad smile himself, "Though I'm not the type to calculate calories and mix protein powder like a fitness fanatic, I do pay attention to healthy eating. And, I don't smoke, I don't drink..."

"Nor do you drive."

Renly's interjection gave Will a pause. His expression relaxed further, his thoughts gradually calming. He nodded emphatically, "That's right, I don't drive either. Also, every morning I go for a run. I haven't been doing it for all that long, just since graduating from college. But I've kept it up every day."

It was evident that Will was an orderly individual. Once he set rules, he relentlessly adhered to them.

Some say such people might come across as detached, their emotional fluctuations not readily apparent. They might even seem a bit cold-blooded at times, almost robotic. Yet Renly knew that, quite the contrary, individuals like these were often more fragile, more sensitive. They guarded themselves meticulously to avoid getting hurt. But once they opened up, their connections became incredibly resilient.

They lived in their own small worlds, refusing to let strangers in easily. They might even push away anyone who tried to get close. They required more time to gradually accept new friends, new relationships, changes, new patterns. But once they did, these things became a part of their lives, and their emotional bonds grew deeper. Family, love, friendship—each was treated the same way.

Matthew Dunlop was such a personality.

Renly wasn't entirely sure if Will was the same, given that they had only known each other for a relatively short time. However, even from the script of "50/50", it was evident that familial and friendly support were crucial for Adam. The shock and impact of a girlfriend's betrayal were even more tumultuous, surpassing the turmoil of cancer and entirely disrupting Adam's emotional equilibrium.

"Perhaps you should really give rain-soaked running a try; you might discover something different," Renly suggested with a smile. "In Seattle, there should be plenty of opportunities like that."

Banter-filled words caused Will to pause for a moment, as he carefully scrutinized Renly before giving a deep nod. "Perhaps, maybe I will give it a try."

"And what about music? What kind of music do you like? I mean, while running," Renly continued.

"Rock, indie rock, folk rock," Will's words seemed to flow more freely now, his expression becoming animated. "In fact, even before the Sundance Film Festival, I knew about you. I saw your performance video on YouTube, "Cleopatra". That song is still one of my go-to tracks for running..."

Gradually, as the conversation deepened, Renly began to shape an image of Adam in their mind. In Adam, they saw shades of Will, searching for traces of Chu Jiashu's presence.

Adam was indeed an ordinary person, devoid of melodrama or theatrics, much like countless ordinary people in society.

He grew up in an ordinary household where his parents loved each other, creating a happy and fulfilling home. He was never lacking in care and affection, which accompanied him throughout his upbringing.

He had a typical academic background, not the student council president nor a star athlete, but also not a recluse who solely focused on math and physics. He was the editor of the school newspaper, dabbled in writing poetry. He wasn't a prominent figure, yet he managed to secure a dance partner he admired at the graduation ball.

He held a regular job, not the kind that shifts the world's development course, but he utilized his talents in his own position. He occasionally griped about his superiors not fully appreciating his abilities. However, on the whole, he enjoyed his job and was content with his work environment. This was the company he aspired to be part of.

If it weren't for cancer, perhaps his life would have been quite ordinary. Much like a winding river—there might be a few twists, but no major upheavals.

Yet in reality, he wasn't devoid of edges; he simply concealed them.

He loved words, not just for the wisdom they concealed, but for the vintage spirit they carried. He longed for the days before the internet dismantled modern civilization. That's why he loved rock music, folk songs, Sundance, and radio broadcasts. He didn't roar and bellow in furious anger. He persisted in his own way—introverted yet resilient, never wavering.

He enjoyed running, and while physical health was part of the reason, it was even more about how music isolated him from the world during those runs. It was his own time, devoid of thinking or communicating, just reveling in his own existence. He didn't shun social interactions; he just wasn't the type to be overly sociable, believing that it was enough to have a select few friends.

He struggled with expression; words felt pale to him, far less expressive than writing. But it didn't mean he lacked emotions. He cherished the memories of his father before he was afflicted with Alzheimer's disease, a time when they could discuss rock music. He tentatively invited his girlfriend to live together; this was his most sincere confession from the depths of his heart.

He understood that it was the 21st century, a different era. This was the age of the internet and the media. Everyone had to voice their own thoughts and even share their lives. Emotions were now expected to be rich, passionate, and forthright. If sadness wasn't expressed, then it wasn't truly sadness.

"Yet he yearned for the past, that vintage era characterized by restraint, understatement, calm composure, and rational elegance. In that age, brimming emotions found their release through words, in a depth and richness that lay beyond spoken words, subdued by an overarching tranquility. He wasn't reticent because there was nothing to say, but rather because his emotions ran too deep.

After the passage of time, everything had become so simple, superficial, and direct. Dignity and pride no longer existed; as long as the price was right, anything could be bought.

He lived out his essence in his own way. However, others couldn't see it, let alone understand it.

So, when he learned of his cancer diagnosis, after a brief moment of confusion, he maintained composure. Not because he didn't care, but because all his emotions were suppressed beneath that calm exterior. He knew he had to be strong. This was a protracted struggle, and if he wasn't strong enough, he wouldn't stand a chance in this inevitably losing battle. At least, that's what he told himself.

Hence, he candidly confessed to his girlfriend. He even suggested that if he couldn't handle it, they could break up—not as an insincere ploy but as a heartfelt notion. He knew this wasn't an easy matter for anyone to face. She bore no responsibility or obligation to accompany him through such a challenging time.

He debated whether or not to tell his parents, considering his father's situation. Perhaps his mother would be burdened too heavily to bear the news. Yet ultimately, he chose honesty. This could well be the final leg of his life's journey, regardless of the outcome. He didn't want to leave any regrets behind.

Consequently, he embarked on a search for ways to conquer his cancer. He wouldn't shy away; he bravely faced the challenge. Whether it ended in success or failure was secondary. But he wouldn't preemptively give up before trying.

Renly looked at the Will before them, a faint sense of emotion stirring within. Through their conversation, Adam's image gradually took on depth and dimension. It wasn't just Will alone; he was also Chu Jiashu, and he was Renly. Within Adam's persona, a multitude of private emotions intertwined, so genuine and distinct that Renly started to blur the lines of thought:

Was this ultimately Will's story or their own story?

"Would anyone like to go shopping?"

This was Renly's first sentence after their conversation as they stood in the hallway. A heavy silence filled the air, everyone looking at each other, unsure of how to respond.

First, there was the rain-soaked run, then the one-on-one conversation in the writer's room. And now, shopping? The rhythm of events was truly elusive.

Seth glanced at Will, who merely shrugged innocently. Seth had no choice but to speak up directly, "Shopping... for what? Toiletries? Or...?"

"Clothes," Renly gestured to their own attire. "These can't be directly filmed."

Seth promptly caught on, "You mean costumes? We've already prepared those, Nathan, right?"

Upon hearing his name called, Nathan hurriedly nodded in agreement, "Yes, we purchased a batch of clothes yesterday. They're all in the rooms, selected according to your measurements."

However, Renly smiled and shook their head, "Are you referring to the clothes on the room's hangers? No, those won't do. We need to buy new ones. Can someone provide a breakdown of Seattle's shopping districts?"


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