Roy Lockley? It was actually Roy Lockley!
He still wore that crumpled suit and shirt, still had that unpolished look about him. Once again, the image of the American actor's union agent from his memory overlapped with the reality before him. If it weren't for the slightly bronzed skin and somewhat dehydrated cheeks, Renly would have almost believed that their previous encounter during the trek had never happened.
But why was Roy here?
His presence was entirely unexpected. Renly had initially thought it was Matthew, who was supposed to come out early to pick them up, effortlessly navigating through the crowd to take the driver's seat of the car. But now, standing within sight was Roy, a character no one had foreseen.
Even Renly displayed a hint of surprise between his brows, let alone Nathan.
Nathan stared at the stranger before him, unsure of his identity, momentarily unable to determine if the newcomer was friend or foe. His steps involuntarily paused, uncertain whether to advance or retreat.
Although a myriad of questions filled his mind, now was clearly not the time for conversation. After a brief moment of bewilderment, Renly regained his composure and patted Nathan's shoulder, signaling him to follow. They quickly advanced.
Escaping the encirclement smoothly did not equate to safety. All the journalists gazed forward, leaning slightly forward with an urgent and dominating stance that pervaded the surroundings, waiting to pounce.
Roy turned his head slightly, casting an inquisitive glance. There were no words spoken, but Renly understood and nodded in affirmation. Then, Roy turned back and raised his voice, saying, "Now, you can start asking questions, but!" The journalists were eager to speak, but Roy cut off their impatience with a stern tone. "One at a time, or I won't hear the questions clearly, and they will be disregarded."
The journalists exchanged glances. Although they were not entirely pleased with Roy's assertiveness and bluntness, they understood it was the right approach. So, who should be the first to ask? Among the crowd, at least a dozen journalists reacted swiftly, raising their hands high. Some even tiptoed and jumped, standing out from the dense crowd.
Sure enough, Roy immediately called out, "You, sir." The siege had quickly turned into a press conference, and the abrupt shift in tone left people somewhat taken aback.
"Renly, did Chris really steal your script?"
The first question hit the nail on the head, with the journalist even slyly switching verbs from "borrowed" to "stole". With a single misstep or impulsive reaction, they could fall into a trap, and the onslaught from other journalists was already foreseeable.
While this attack primarily targeted Chris, no one would overlook Renly's response. What if Renly erupted in anger? What if his emotions got out of control? What if he became agitated? If he revealed a sensational revelation in a fit of emotion, this battle would become truly captivating. If necessary, the journalists didn't mind adding fuel to the fire to push Renly to the brink of emotional breakdown.
That's the nature of journalism. The truth is essential, but sensationalism is even more critical, and self-interest trumps all.
Faced with the journalists' attempt to twist the narrative, Renly remained calm and composed, even offering a smile. "Indeed, I can't find my script. I hope Paramount Pictures won't hold me responsible for this."
He had managed to sidestep the issue entirely.
While Renly acknowledged the loss of his script, his words never mentioned Chris directly. He didn't confirm or deny any possibilities. What was more, he skillfully steered clear of the sensitive core topic, instead mentioning Paramount with a hint of sarcasm, making his intentions crystal clear.
Just when everyone expected Renly to take advantage of the situation and deliver a crushing blow to Chris, turning this showdown into an all-out battle, Renly elegantly evaded. Why? The journalists on the scene were utterly bewildered, their eyes reflecting confusion as they struggled to keep up with the unfolding events.
Amidst the chaos and excitement, Renly remained exceptionally composed, keeping a watchful eye on the proceedings.
Despite TMZ's exposé and the subsequent chain reaction, the essence of the situation hadn't changed. Unless an insider at Paramount could produce substantial evidence, Renly couldn't prove Chris's theft. Chris remained resolute in his denial. Both sides clung to their positions, and no definitive conclusion was in sight.
In other words, even if Renly relentlessly pursued the issue, it wouldn't clarify matters. Moreover, the media would only become more excited, perpetuating the saga endlessly.
Furthermore, from the beginning, Renly had no interest in sensationalism. He wasn't interested in the media's incessant hounding. He wasn't interested in his and Chris's names being perpetually linked in the headlines. He certainly had no interest in kicking someone when they were down.
With this time, he could be immersed in his work instead of getting ensnared in the vortex of gossip.
As for Chris, as Renly had previously stated, he had achieved his goals in his own way, which was a good thing, something to be celebrated, as everyone had their own way of life and principles. They were on different paths, and for Renly, "Chris Hemsworth" was merely a name with no deeper significance.
Rather than condemning Chris, Renly found it more amusing to toy with the journalists. He was dead serious about it.
As he looked at the bewildered and innocent-looking journalists before him, a slight smile tugged at the corners of Renly's lips. It settled deep in his eyes before he exchanged a glance with Roy, signaling that he had finished answering and it was time to move on.
Unnoticed by all, Nathan, standing by the car door, and Matthew, in the driver's seat, exchanged a brief glance. Nathan puffed his cheeks in frustration, while a faint, fleeting smirk graced Matthew's lips. It seemed that someone had won a gamble.
Roy caught the smile that played on Renly's lips, momentarily puzzled before breaking into a grin himself. He then turned to face the perplexed journalists before him, as well as the few who had swiftly raised their hands again. He casually selected another one and, after some thought, a light chuckle escaped his lips.
However, the journalists seemed somewhat fatigued. The first question they directly addressed had been artfully circumvented. Despite their attempts to rephrase and inquire in different ways, Renly remained steadfast, standing his ground with unwavering composure. His responses were not only intelligent and astute but also laced with humor.
Round and round they went, with the journalists becoming increasingly disoriented. The questions began to revolve around a narrow spectrum:
Did Renly and Chris truly part ways? Have they genuinely lost touch? Did Renly refuse to answer Chris's calls due to the script incident? Did Renly genuinely turn down "Thor"? What are Renly's thoughts on box office prospects of "Thor"? What are Renly's expectations for the upcoming summer blockbuster season? How much does Renly know about Chris's actions? Did Renly lose the script carelessly, or was it genuinely stolen?
In truth, these questions were all variations of the same theme, and despite their efforts to dig deeper, the journalists were left with mere scraps. They probed and prodded, but the essence of the matter remained elusive.
"If there are no further questions, I'm preparing to leave. I'm already running late for work. If rumors about me throwing a diva fit start circulating, it won't be good."
The journalists were reluctant to let go, but Renly had no patience to continue the charade. He punctuated his statement with a smile.
A gust of cold wind swept through, causing the journalists to shiver involuntarily. It was only then that they realized Renly had remained relaxed and composed, not a bead of sweat on his brow, while they were drenched in perspiration, disheveled, and yet, they hadn't made any substantial headway. The sense of frustration was palpable.
More importantly, they found themselves powerless against Renly. In this whole affair, he was also a victim. Unless they could prove that TMZ's report was false and somehow shift the narrative back in Chris's favor, turning on Renly now might incur the wrath of internet users.
This wasn't Renly's first appearance, but it was the journalists' first direct encounter with him, and the fragmented images were gradually forming a clearer picture: the young man who had risen to stardom with his acting prowess, constantly at the center of the storm, only twenty-one years old, yet firmly establishing his presence in Hollywood in an unstoppable manner.
As Renly was about to turn and leave, someone in the crowd shouted, "Renly!" No raised hand, just a call, but the entire scene fell silent, and all eyes turned in that direction, the voice ringing crystal clear.
It was Bradley Adams, a reporter from The New York Times.
Amidst the surging crowd, the presence of a single journalist had been quite inconspicuous. Only now did people realize that The New York Times had joined this party from the very beginning. Bradley stood tall, raising his voice to pose his question, "Regarding the ins and outs of this incident, from its inception to its twists and turns, what is your assessment?"
From a routine paparazzi interception to a news sensation sweeping across the United States and the world?
Renly flashed a faint smile, a glint of light twinkling in his eyes. "Welcome to Hollywood."
Morgan Fisher had never been in such a wretched state.
The crazed journalists descended like a torrential storm, striking like a hail of punches and kicks, leaving no room for retaliation. Not even a breath could be taken, let alone any form of defense. Every inch of his body was exposed to the onslaught, and his once immaculate Armani suit looked like it had been fished out of a dumpster. His expensive Italian handcrafted leather shoes were now marred with footprints, and even his toes throbbed with discomfort. Sticky sweat glued his shirt and underwear to his body, and his wristwatch seemed to slip and slide on his wrist.
"Get back!" Morgan attempted to regain control, roaring at the top of his lungs, his lungs beginning to burn and almost bursting. But the waves of noise crashed in, and his voice vanished without a trace, leaving him furious.
His anger had only begun to simmer when an elbow swung towards him. He reflexively ducked, but his skull collided with an arm, followed by a camera pushing forward relentlessly, wedging tightly against his neck, immobilizing him. His instinctive reaction was to raise his right hand and attempt a push, but it proved futile. Sweat poured like rain as his right hand wiped his forehead, then his hair, pushing the stray strands back. Yet, several hands reached out simultaneously, left, right, front, striking and pummeling without rhyme or reason. He felt like a basketball.
It was humiliating, utterly humiliating.
His hair was disheveled, resembling a bird's nest, or rather, even a bird's nest looked tidier. At this moment, Morgan had no semblance of an image. However, he finally understood that resistance was futile. In such a seething crowd, one person's strength was utterly inconsequential. All he could do was surrender and go with the flow.
Once he gave up, progress became possible. He struggled to make his way to the door, where he crashed against the wooden panel. Now was not the time to worry about appearances. He urgently began banging on the door, shouting, "Chris, Chris, it's me, open the door! Quickly!"
Chris, sitting on the sofa, startled like a spooked deer, reflexively leaped up, but then realized it was Morgan, his savior. He quickly opened the door panel and was greeted with a sea of distorted faces rushing towards him. His vision was instantly blurred by the flashing lights. The last image that remained in his mind before the avalanche was a stampede of thousands of horses.
After allowing Morgan inside through a narrow gap, Chris hurriedly closed the door panel. It wasn't an easy task, and they both needed to put in a tremendous effort to get the door shut. They leaned against it, gasping for breath, their appearance extremely disheveled.
Turning to Morgan, Chris was taken aback, and Morgan felt somewhat embarrassed. If he had been able to contact Chris, he wouldn't have needed to intervene personally, and he wouldn't have suffered such humiliation. These journalists were like ravenous beasts, completely overreacting to a relatively minor negative news event. They clearly lacked experience.
Morgan stood up straight, puffing out his chest to hide his disarray. He spoke sharply, "Why was your phone off?"
Chris, still overwhelmed, took half a second to react before explaining, "The journalists kept calling, it never stopped ringing, and it drained my battery completely." Chris added, "The landline was the same, so I unplugged it."
Morgan clenched his chest; no wonder he couldn't reach Chris. While the situation had exceeded his expectations, he still needed to address Chris face to face. "What about your computer? Why did you turn it off? I tried to contact you through video, but you were never available!"
Chris opened his mouth but couldn't find the words to say. He was speechless, with no way to defend himself.
Looking at Chris's bewildered expression, Morgan felt like he was about to explode with frustration. However, when he considered Paramount's furious rage, Universal's complicity, and the relentless pursuit of the media, Morgan forced himself to swallow his pride. Now was not the time.
"We have to face the journalists now," Morgan forced himself to calm down. He didn't even bother fixing his appearance and spoke directly. But Chris didn't give Morgan a chance to continue. He responded, "No!" with a decisive and fearful tone that made Morgan grind his teeth.
Calm down. Everything had its pros and cons. One of the main reasons Morgan had chosen Chris, an idol, over someone like the troublesome Renly, was because Chris was obedient, right? Stay calm, you must stay calm.
Morgan clenched his fist and suppressed the urge to slap Chris. He said slowly and firmly, "Listen carefully, you don't have a choice. We have to go out and face the reporters." Sensing that Chris might want to speak again, Morgan gave him a fierce and intimidating look, and Chris swallowed his words.
"When facing the reporters, emphasize that you earned this role based on your talent. Leave the rest to me," Morgan quickly regained his composure after the initial panic. He had already planned out the procedures in his mind before coming here.
"Thor" wasn't a film that tested acting skills extensively. While the script played a role during auditions, it was of limited significance. They should focus on Chris's talent; he was the perfect fit for the role of Thor. The script should not be the center of attention; their position had to remain firm.
The rest was relatively straightforward. Natalie Portman, Anthony Hopkins, and other key cast members would step forward and express their support for Chris as the ideal choice for the role. They wouldn't directly respond to the script incident but would continue to emphasize the character's image, showing unwavering support for Chris. This would create a public perception:
The script was secondary; the character was paramount. Whether or not there was a script, Chris was the best choice.
Once the storm passed, Chris would respond directly. All those rumors were baseless; he had never borrowed, let alone stolen, a script. The negative impact would be minimized. What truly decided success or failure was not this verbal sparring, but the box office performance of "Thor".
Just like Robert Downey Jr. When the media kept accusing him of drug and alcohol issues despite his success with "Iron Man", Robert was often provoked and even stormed off the set during a TV show recording. But what did it matter? After "Iron Man 2" dominated the box office, those reporters shut their mouths voluntarily.
Seemingly a dead end, yet still full of vitality. This was Hollywood, not a courtroom.
Morgan's calm demeanor couldn't help Chris settle down. "But what if they keep pressing? What if they don't let go of the script issue? Renly will speak up; he will, he definitely will!" Chris's eyes widened, and he repeated the words, panicking. Memories of all the scenes from their apartment flashed in his mind, and he couldn't calm his anxiety. "He won't miss this opportunity, and the reporters won't miss this news!"
"Chris!" Morgan shouted angrily, but it had limited effect. He gave Chris a slap, the sharp sound and the force of the blow caught Chris off guard, causing him to stumble back half a step, but he quickly regained his composure. "Chris, remember, all you need to say is that you earned the role based on your talent, which is the truth. Kenneth affirmed you, the producers affirmed you, Anthony affirmed you! That's all!"
Morgan emphasized once again, "Leave everything else to me." This situation had exceeded their expectations, and Chris couldn't handle it; Morgan had to step in personally to intercept those sensitive questions and try to control the situation's future development as much as possible.
Seeing Chris lost in thought, Morgan took a deep breath to prevent his temper from getting out of control again. "Chris, repeat after me: I earned the role based on my talent."
"I earned the role based on my talent," Chris repeated mechanically. Morgan went through the entire process again and again until Chris's eyes showed a glimmer of confidence, and he began to regain his composure.
Only then did Morgan relax a bit, patting Chris on the arm. "I'll freshen up, and then we'll go out. It has to be now; we can't delay any longer." With that, Morgan headed straight for the bathroom. He felt cheap in his current state and needed to regain his confidence. There was absolutely no room for error now.
While Morgan and Chris were preparing to face the reporters, Renly had already managed to escape the journalists. Matthew released the handbrake and stepped on the gas, driving away.
"Are you serious?" Renly looked at Roy with an expression of disbelief.
Roy innocently tilted his head, making a small but clear gesture. "I'd like to say that I saw the news and knew you were facing difficulties today, so I rushed over to rescue you. That way, you owe me a favor. But, it was really just a lucky coincidence. I didn't even know you lived here."
Roy's appearance had no complex reasons behind it. He just happened to pass by, saw the reporters surrounding the news subject, and learned that it was Renly, so he stepped in to help. That's it, as simple as that.
"If it's possible, I don't mind helping out like this a few more times," Renly playfully teased, while Nathan sitting in the passenger seat shook his head in dismay. "Again? Maybe not, let's try to avoid situations like this in the future."
Their anxious expressions filled the car with laughter, and the exhaustion and chaos from earlier were left behind.
For Chris, the battle had just begun, but for Renly, this news event had already concluded—at least until the official premiere of "Fast 5".