"Six hundred cases of beer, seventy cases of whiskey, forty cases of brandy, and forty cases of tequila. Is the quantity correct?"
The truck driver before him checked the list again, Renly stood beside him, holding the numbers he had just documented in the warehouse after completing the inventory. After reviewing and confirming each item, he nodded, "Correct!" He then took the bill, signed his name in the recipient's column, and asked, "What about the red wine? When can Stanley's reserved red wine arrive?"
"Next Monday," the truck driver promptly replied, "Can you manage through this weekend?"
"No problem this weekend," Renly said after signing. He handed the bill to the driver, who tore off one copy and gave it to Renly. "But it's best to arrive on Monday as scheduled. We'll probably be out of stock by Thursday." While he said Thursday, the situation over the weekend was unpredictable; by Monday, they might be completely out.
"Understood, we'll definitely be on time," the driver said, tidying things up with a cheerful smile. However, he made no move to leave.
Renly had been about to turn away, but seeing the inquisitive look on the driver's face, he hesitated for a moment. He smiled in thanks, "Thank you, it's been hard. I hope everything goes smoothly today."
Seeing Renly preparing to leave, the driver couldn't hold back any longer. He called out, "You're that guy, right? Renly?" Looking up, Renly could see the unrestrained excitement on the driver's face. "Your performance is really good. Even someone as coarse as me can tell, it's sincerely impressive!"
"Heh," Renly chuckled lightly, "That's the best affirmation of my work." Neither modest nor proud, he gracefully accepted the praise.
"I never expected you'd be working here. I thought people like you would be touring everywhere, basking in the limelight?" The driver laughed heartily, with no ill intentions, just curiosity. "I'm even more eager to see your next performance. Having you work here is really underutilizing your talents." As he spoke, the driver turned back and settled into the driver's seat again.
Renly's brow furrowed slightly, sensing something odd but unable to pinpoint it. Then, a spark of insight lit up his mind. He half-jokingly quipped, "I didn't expect you'd be an HBO subscriber." Most HBO subscribers were from white-collar families; blue-collar workers like truck drivers usually weren't interested in HBO.
"HBO?" Following his remark was a hearty laughter. "I would never subscribe to something so expensive and dull." The driver's reaction was akin to hearing the best joke of the day. He patted the steering wheel, then gave Renly a big smile. "You've worked hard! I'll be off now, still have deliveries for three more places!" With that, the truck started up, and amidst the roaring engine noise, it gradually left the alley behind the Village Vanguard gate.
Renly stood in place, carefully considering. If the truck driver didn't subscribe to HBO, how did he recognize Renly? Then, Renly shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. Just because the driver's family didn't subscribe to HBO didn't mean he couldn't watch "The Pacific" elsewhere. Alternatively, he might have seen highlights of the show on YouTube. In this age of the internet, information spread rapidly and widely—anything was possible, wasn't it?
The peculiar feeling he had just experienced was undoubtedly a result of his own overthinking. Lifting his right hand, he ruffled his hair forcefully, disrupting the order of his slightly curly short hair. It was as if by doing so, he could alleviate some of the weight of his thoughts.
After the premiere of "The Pacific", Renly's life didn't change much. While the internet and media discussions buzzed fervently, scorching gazes converged on the TV series, and Renly became the vortex of public opinion. However, in reality, Renly couldn't sense that surging tide. It was as if the TV's fervor, the internet's fervency, and the newspapers' excitement were unrelated to him. All of it seemed to be happening in another realm detached from real life, a realm bathed in spotlights, while Renly still lived outside their glow.
He still diligently worked at Village Vanguard every day, still searched for opportunities to perform outside of Broadway, still persistently visited the American Actors Guild to find job opportunities. However, the results were quite limited. He only had two audition opportunities—one rejected him for being too young, the other for having a stage-like performance—both ended in failure.
Strictly speaking, Renly's current life wasn't much different from before. The only difference was the scene just now. Occasionally on the streets, he'd encounter people recognizing him, and they'd discuss plot details with excitement. But that was about it.
This was the first time Renly tangibly felt the subtle differences within the entertainment industry, especially between movies and television. The attention brought by a successful movie and that by a successful TV series had a vast disparity. Of course, it was relative; during the peak of "Friends", any actor from the show would cause a sensation just by walking down the street.
As a miniseries, and one airing on HBO, a paid cable channel, the impact of "The Pacific" was even more limited.
So, the fervent discussions on the internet, the media's collective gaze, and the roller coaster of the show's broadcasts, Renly had no personal experience of any of that. He was more like an observer, much like any ordinary viewer, watching the turmoil unfold on the small screen of the TV. It truly was a rather peculiar feeling.
No wonder people always said entering Hollywood wasn't difficult as long as you had a good appearance; but occupying a place there was extremely tough. As for climbing to the pinnacle of the Hollywood pyramid, that was as difficult as reaching the heavens. Now, Renly was beginning to sense this reality.
Pushing open the back door, Renly returned to the front of the bar. He looked around for Stanley Charlson's figure but didn't find him. Instead, he spotted a group of people huddled around a table, excitedly discussing, "What place is it? What place?" "Top fifty for sure, in the top fifty!"... Then, a muffled sound arose from the crowd, inaudible from the outside. Following that, everyone raised their hands high and cheered, "Wow!"
Unconsciously, Renly changed his direction and walked toward the group. He stuck his head in, attempting to join in, "What's happening? What's going on?"
Unexpectedly, upon hearing Renly's voice, everyone seemed as if they'd seen a ghost, their faces full of shock. Then, they began to push him out, "It's nothing, it's nothing." "Just watching... uh..." "Football!" "Yes, football!"... Their playful voices grew increasingly guilty, their attempts to cover up their intentions couldn't have been more conspicuous.
Renly didn't resist. After being pushed out a bit, he waited for everyone to relax before turning around. His calm gaze settled on his companions. The half-smile that played on his lips, a mix of amusement and curiosity, caused everyone to avert their eyes, avoiding direct eye contact with Renly. Seeing that Janis Black was about to defend herself, Renly shook his head gently and smiled, "You guys are truly the least secretive group of people in the world. Come on, tell me what's going on. Instead of me guessing here, it's better if you tell me voluntarily."
Even though Renly's words were teasing, the atmosphere was charged with a sense of authority. Everyone fidgeted, exchanged glances, but no one spoke up. Renly lifted his chin a bit higher, looked over his shoulder, and spoke in a low voice, "Neil, it's your last chance to confess. If you miss this opportunity, there won't be a next one."
The playful words were accompanied by a trace of warmth in Renly's smile, yet Neil's attempt to sneak away was frozen in place. He could feel his scalp prickling, "Heh heh." Neil let out a nervous laugh twice and prepared to cover up his involvement. But soon after, all eyes turned to Neil in unison. Janis directly spoke up, "It was Neil's idea, all of it was Neil's idea."
"Yes!" Other people also raised their fingers in a rush, all pointing at Neil, evidently trying to pin the blame solely on him. The scene was quite spectacular.
Neil was now hopping on one foot, "Guys, you can't just abandon me like this!" clutching the laptop in his arms. "This was a proposal everyone agreed on, not just me! Stanley, where's Stanley?" Looking left and right, Neil couldn't find Stanley's figure, and he clenched his teeth with frustration, "Renly, believe me, this was everyone's idea, I was just the executor, really."
Now, it was Renly who was puzzled. What on earth was going on? He had no clue.
However, Renly didn't reveal his confusion. Instead, he maintained his composure, waiting for Neil to confess openly.
Sure enough, Neil opened his laptop and placed it on the table beside Renly. "Renly, are you ready for a surprise gift?" A gift? What was this about? His birthday was still half a year away! "Take a look." Neil said solemnly, then turned the laptop screen toward Renly, finally unveiling the mystery.
Renly sat down and examined it closely. The screen displayed an iTunes page, showing the real-time single download chart. "What am I supposed to be looking at?" Renly casually glanced at it, not understanding. Neil pointed at the screen with his finger, and Renly read the line of text, "48, Cleopatra, Renly Hall."
Renly slightly opened his mouth in surprise. He had forgotten, he had truly forgotten. He had completely forgotten about recording "Cleopatra" as a digital gift for Stanley. That was... three months ago.
Renly had assumed that this folk single wouldn't cause any ripples, that it would quickly be drowned in the vast ocean of singles, and he hadn't even remembered recording a single when he saw the iTunes chart earlier. But never in his wildest dreams did he expect to see his single climb into the top fifty of the download rankings. This, this was truly an unexpected turn of events.
"Top fifty! Renly, see? "Cleopatra" is in the top fifty of the iTunes real-time download chart!" Neil exclaimed with excitement, his voice trembling uncontrollably. "Next step, who knows, maybe it'll make it onto the Billboard Hot 100!"