章節 175: Chapter 175: Why Black?
[Chapter 175: Why Black?]
At the gates of the Fox studio lot, a tall black security guard glanced over at two men standing not far from the entrance.
The pair, both taller than six feet, were hiding in the shade. Although they dressed formally, the younger man, with a prominent forehead, a strong jaw, and a furrowed brow, gave off an untrustworthy vibe. Only the older-looking man carried a backpack, while neither had a camera, making them seem unrelated to the paparazzi.
This made the guard slightly more vigilant, prompting him to inform his partner to keep an eye on the two in case they tried to sneak in. This kind of thing rarely happened, but it had occurred before. Celebrities often filmed on site, and if anyone disrupted them -- even unintentionally -- the security team would likely be out of a job.
Despite their appearance, the two men behaved themselves, showing no signs of wrongdoing. Hence, the guard had no reason to ask them to leave. They arrived before ten and remained there until nearly noon, occasionally glancing at the studio entrance and the adjacent road, as if waiting for someone.
Around 11:50, a yellow taxi pulled up near the studio gates. The door opened, and a petite girl stepped out, dressed in a pink t-shirt and denim shorts. With her fair skin and heart-shaped sunglasses, she looked adorable. She carried a small canvas bag and held an umbrella. The two men quickly moved toward her, and during their conversation, the older-looking man eagerly took the umbrella to shield her from the sun. Together, they walked toward the gate.
As the girl approached, the guard thought she looked familiar. It wasn't until she reached the pedestrian entrance that he stopped them: "Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, may I see your passes?"
Both men turned to the girl, who removed her sunglasses. "I'm here to see Eric Williams. Can I go right in?"
"You... you're Drew Barrymore," the guard recognized her instantly, relaxing his demeanor. He smiled politely, revealing a bright smile. "Of course, you can enter. However, per regulations, I'll need to inform the studio that you're here. Can you wait a moment while I call Mr. Williams' crew so they can come and escort you?"
"Thank you, Mr. Kirk," Drew said, eyeing his name badge.
The midday Los Angeles sun blazed down, with temperatures rising above thirty degrees Celsius. The guard led Drew and her companions into a nearby lounge before making the call.
...
Drew walked over to an empty chair and sat down casually while she dug through her bag for some chewing gum, popping it into her mouth. She then took out a compact mirror to fix her hair. "Lawrence, did you wait long?" she asked with a smile, noticing the two men beside her.
"Not at all, Drew. We only arrived half an hour earlier," Lawrence Bender replied with a grin. The guard, overhearing Lawrence, merely glanced at him but chose not to comment.
Drew noticed the sheen of sweat on the two men's shirts and didn't press further. They had agreed to arrive after eleven, but they seemed to have come quite early, possibly worried about traffic or other delays. Either way, she didn't concern herself with their choices.
Quentin Tarantino, standing next to Lawrence, remained quiet -- not out of shyness, as he was actually more talkative than Lawrence. However, he couldn't help glancing at the little feet peeking out from Drew's sandals. He felt a stir of discomfort; her delicate, pale feet looked like fine art. But why did she paint her toenails black? That thought tugged at him, creating a strange urge to clean them off. Of course, he knew he couldn't act on such impulsive feelings.
After a brief chat with Lawrence, Drew turned toward Quentin, and, by chance, caught him staring at her feet. Instead of being annoyed, she shot him a playful smile, as if saying she caught him red-handed.
Quentin quickly looked away, covering his mouth to suppress a cough, trying to ease the awkwardness.
Drew, however, wasn't about to let him off the hook. She lifted her foot and asked directly, "Quentin, is there something wrong with my feet?"
"Uh... cough, no! Of course not, Miss Barrymore. Your feet are very... very beautiful," he stammered, quickly realizing he had offended his friends. "No, I meant..."
"Ha ha..." Seeing him flustered made Drew burst into laughter.
Lawrence shot a disapproving look at Quentin, thinking to himself that if Drew were a bit less gracious, their hard-earned opportunity might slip away.
Fortunately, staff members arrived to greet Drew's party, relieving Quentin of his embarrassment. They all took an electric cart to the studio.
...
As they entered, Drew headed straight for Eric. Lawrence and Quentin hurried after her, quickly spotting Drew hugging a young man in a blue t-shirt. Eric embraced Drew, allowing her to rub her cheek against his face before releasing her and stepping forward to greet Lawrence and Quentin.
"Hello, Mr. Tarantino, Mr. Bender," Eric greeted them, shaking their hands. Quentin expected Eric to acknowledge Lawrence first, as he appeared to be the leader of the pack, but Eric approached Quentin, leaving him pleasantly surprised. Despite Quentin's usual self-confidence, he felt a wave of inadequacy in the presence of a director who had already grossed over $1 billion at the box office.
*****
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