บท 439: Malicious hype
Cornell McGregor attempted to push forward, but the surging crowd was excessively enthusiastic. People jostled and competed based on their individual abilities. Cornell's build wasn't robust, so he didn't have much advantage. In the blink of an eye, he was pushed down. Fortunately, the people behind were also pressing forward, so as long as he held his position, he wouldn't keep moving backward and could occupy a space in the front.
Raising his head to look around, today was truly bustling.
Over a hundred reporters had completely blocked the entrance of the apartment, and even overflowed onto the road. Passing vehicles had to detour around the crowd to avoid collisions. Yet, even so, it didn't hinder the reporters' enthusiasm. The bustling crowd seemed spectacular.
This scene, even compared to last year's scene when Michael Jackson's private doctor was arrested after his accidental death, wasn't inferior at all.
It was all about timing. During this week's gap, all of Hollywood had fallen silent. All gossip, all melodrama, all news had temporarily quieted down. Who could have predicted that such a heated news would break out? Journalists who were originally gathered in Los Angeles had rushed towards Seattle.
The "50/50" crew announced that a brief press conference would be held today, with Renly attending.
And so, over a hundred reporters, to be exact, a hundred and fifty-three, gathered together, but there was silence. Everyone eagerly awaited, and in the midst of it, there was a hint of anticipation.
Honestly speaking, Renly appearing before the public was approaching a full year. "The Pacific" had premiered in March of last year. During this time, there had been numerous occasions where Renly had interacted with journalists—Emmy Awards, Toronto, Telluride, Sundance, "Buried" screenings, "The Pacific" premiere... In truth, Renly had dealt with journalists on multiple occasions, even shook hands numerous times.
But today was different. This was Renly's first ever press conference, and moreover, it was a press conference amidst negative news. It was truly exhilarating.
Under the blockade of reporters, would Renly be flustered? Faced with the reporters' questions, would Renly appear anxious and lose control? Under the pressure of the news, would Renly burst out in anger? Surrounded by journalists, would Renly be taken aback?
Just imagining it, everyone was excited. Cornell was even more so.
Amidst the intense anticipation, the apartment door creaked open, and then... then Renly appeared.
Without the accompaniment of a manager, without the vanguard of the crew, without any prior notice, Renly appeared so calm and composed, catching everyone off guard. The entire scene paused for a moment, and then the flashlights poured down like a waterfall. Under Seattle's soft sunlight, silver halos erupted into an incredible brilliance, enveloping the entire street in this burst of light. All scenery blurred and nearly disappeared.
"Renly Shoots "50/50", Oscars Hype, Hall Seattle Reporters, Online Controversy, Negative Interpretation"... fragmented vocabulary rushed in from all directions. Forget about a complete sentence, even a complete syllable was incredibly difficult. One could only hear a multitude of vowels and consonants exploding in the air, then blending together to form noise.
Renly felt a buzzing in his eardrums, as if a thousand mosquitoes were hovering beside his ears. The cacophony of discordant and shrill sounds pierced his eardrums, causing a throbbing pain but rendering him unable to hear the noise itself. Even if he merely stood in place, the cacophony mixed with the scorching and stifling air assaulted him, as if all oxygen had been burnt away, leaving only carbon dioxide. The intense sensation of suffocation slowly began to creep in.
Especially with his line of sight covered by a continuous array of flashing lights, the surroundings transformed into an uninterrupted silver expanse. It was as if, in an instant, his visual sense had been lost. This heightened the sense of hearing, and the persistent buzzing sound of a thousand mosquitoes seemed to transform into a fleet of fighter jets. The powerful resonance caused his blood to surge.
For Renly, this was an entirely novel experience. Was this what it meant to be in the spotlight? Even the Golden Globe Awards red carpet didn't subject him to such a barrage of firepower. The faint warmth on his skin, akin to the embers of a fire, simmered and swayed, as if flames were dancing within him. Cell by cell, the burning sensation consumed him. Gradually, even his bones seemed to sense the eroding and destructive force.
But the reporters soon discovered that their questions were utterly ineffective. Not to mention answering, Renly didn't even react. Elegantly, one hand slipped into his pocket, while the other rested casually by his side. Quietly, he stood on the steps of the apartment entrance, elevated by about thirty centimeters from the flat ground. He occupied the high ground, looking down on them serenely and peacefully.
Yes, Renly gazed at the reporters with a calm expression, as if... as if he was looking at a pile of watermelons. This made the reporters feel like fools.
Gradually, the clamor of the reporters began to subside, the cacophony receding bit by bit. Finally, everyone closed their mouths, and the scene regained its tranquility. Only the heat and restlessness lingered in the air, unable to be dispelled. Even the streets, wet with the morning rain, couldn't return to calmness. Seattle's serene and bourgeois atmosphere was now tinged with the flavor of Los Angeles.
At this moment, the reporters finally had the time to truly observe Renly before them.
A deep blue shirt, light gray trousers, and a smoke gray suit, no tie, two buttons unbuttoned—formal with a hint of casualness, elegant with a touch of spontaneity. The tranquil demeanor emanating from within him brought to mind warm sunlight breaking through mist and fog.
However, Renly's condition today didn't seem very good. The clear lines of his brows still held a trace of fatigue, his unadorned face appeared slightly pale. He seemed as if he hadn't rested well for several nights in a row, or perhaps like someone who had been occupied with work for an extended period.
It was strikingly familiar, as almost every reporter present shared a similar appearance.
Internally, Cornell couldn't help but curse. Surely, his agent had instructed him to appear with this weary expression to elicit sympathy right from the beginning. It was truly contemptible.
Renly's gaze swept casually over the assembly of reporters. The corner of his mouth lifted gently, forming a gentlemanly and friendly smile. "First of all, I'm still alive."
With such a simple sentence, thick with sarcasm, the reporters present couldn't help but lower their heads, their lips twitching as they suppressed their smiles. Everything that happened today stemmed from the absurd rumors of the National Enquirer.
"Secondly, I thank all the reporters for your concern and attention," Renly calmly continued, not lifting his chin to take advantage of his elevated position. Instead, he restrained it, maintaining eye contact at eye level. This candid posture, facing the reporters without any obstruction, caused a small number of them to avert their gaze, feeling slightly uneasy.
"Thank you for your concern about my condition, and also for caring about the filming progress of "50/50"," Renly continued composedly. "But as Seth mentioned earlier, I don't want to come out and be interviewed merely because I believe that there's no need to respond to these news reports. The truth will naturally be confirmed. If the reporters cooperate, the crew can enjoy a moment of peace."
His words, though assertive, carried a heavy tone of sarcasm. It implied that if not for these reporters meddling and pestering, if not for their relentless pursuit, this trouble wouldn't have arisen. Things would have already settled down.
Cornell was the first to disagree, directly shouting, "So, are you implying that the "50/50" crew never intended to capitalize on this, and none of this was staged by you?" Sharp, direct, acerbic, decisive—the confrontation was straightforward, ripping open old wounds.
"Yes," Renly's response was concise and clear, forthright and direct, answering the past with a matter-of-fact manner. Then his gaze fell onto Cornell, carefully scrutinizing him.
Silence—a surprising hush fell over the scene.
By normal procedure, this type of press conference would allow the subject to finish their statement before moving on to the question-and-answer session, similar to what Andy and Seth had done earlier. However, just now, Cornell had rudely interrupted Renly's speech. Moreover, Renly hadn't left any room for retreat and had immediately countered. Consequently, things took a turn, a monumental one. Everyone was now waiting to see how it would unfold.
If Renly or Cornell, either party, were to erupt into a heated argument or even a physical fight, the spectacle would be extraordinary. They just needed to watch, and they could get hold of a sensational story. What more could one ask for?
Cornell felt a bit unnerved by Renly's piercing gaze. He was about to retort when Renly preempted him, a tinge of mockery lingering at the corner of his mouth. "Frankly speaking, what we need isn't sensationalism but tranquility. I genuinely hope that you, esteemed journalists, won't focus on our film crew, and won't focus on me. Let us immerse ourselves in our work."
What?
The reporters were left dumbfounded. Renly had just shifted the blame directly onto them? Was it not the crew who tried to capitalize on this, but rather the media reporters who had latched onto it? Or were they intentionally manipulating and fabricating the news? Moreover, judging by his words, it seemed like Renly was even reproaching them? This blame was quite significant.
"Well, "50/50" isn't an easy project to shoot. The crew and I are putting in a lot of effort, especially Seth. He's someone with ADHD—any little disturbance gets him excited for a long time. With you continuously appearing here, he can't concentrate at all, seriously affecting our filming progress."
Indeed, Renly had directly shifted the blame, "If possible, I'd like to ask all the media reporters to let us focus on our filming."
This, this was... a thief shouting to catch a thief?
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