The unfamiliar voice abruptly interjected, and everyone turned their attention in unison. Renly sized him up, a bit puzzled. "Are you a paparazzi?" Back at the Nokia Theatre's side entrance, the journalists' faces were hidden behind their cameras, making it hard to recognize anyone, and Renly didn't identify the person before him.
"I prefer to be called a journalist, but..." Elliot Cort shrugged. Paparazzi disliked the label, which had a derogatory connotation. Mainstream professional journalists also refused to identify paparazzi as peers. "I am indeed following you."
Elliot emphasized the word "following," deliberately injecting a tone of amusement. He was curious about Renly's reaction, toying with the newcomer, as this was the most interesting thing. Most newcomers, upon hearing they were being followed by paparazzi, would often react quite dramatically, either too excited, too angry, or too resistant. But no matter the response, as long as it was recorded, it could be sold for a decent price.
The corner of Renly's eyebrow lifted slightly, revealing a genuinely intrigued expression. "Were you pushed out by your colleagues?" Elliot wasn't sure how to answer this kind of reaction. Suddenly, this absurd feeling turned into a smile. "Otherwise, why would you have fallen to this level?" Renly glanced around, gesturing a bit. "I actually thought you were just a regular audience member."
Elliot was a bit at a loss for words, and then this absurd feeling turned into a smile. "I'm even more curious about why you're here instead of inside the theater for interviews. Moreover, you didn't return to your hotel to prepare. The celebration party is about to start, is there some insider information involved?"
If he was going to be tit for tat, paparazzi weren't afraid of anyone. They lurked in the shadows, while celebrities were exposed under the spotlight. Such pointed topics weren't easy to answer, not just for newcomers, even experienced ones found them tricky to address.
"Actually, I got lost. Do you believe that?" Renly, however, remained unfazed, smiling as he turned the question back.
Elliot was taken aback. What kind of response was that? It was completely unrelated. But how should he respond? This unorthodox answer left Elliot a bit bewildered. "Lost?" Elliot knew that his best option at this point was to ask another question or to counter with a question, but he couldn't help blurting it out.
Renly nodded earnestly. "The plan changed a bit. I lost contact with my manager, and I'm not sure what to do next. So, I was planning to call my manager at the 7-11 over there." Renly pointed to the convenience store not far away, speaking sincerely.
Elliot turned to look, spotting the convenience store amidst the darkness. He was bewildered. Renly didn't seem like he was lying, but... this was truly absurd, wasn't it? "According to the plan, your manager should be waiting at the side entrance for you. Then, they would take you back to the hotel, change clothes, and head to the celebration party."
"Yes, that was the original plan," Renly agreed. "But we didn't anticipate this unexpected situation." Renly gestured to the award trophy, which was still lying in the case, now partially concealed by the bills, only a corner visible. "The time spent backstage exceeded expectations. When I came out again, Bryan Cranston's car was parked at the designated spot. By the way, is there a time limit for parking after the award ceremony ends?"
After the Emmy Awards ceremony, there were a series of official events. Award winners had to take group photos, award-winning crews had to take group photos, winners had to undergo official short interviews, and they had to engrave the trophies... All of this took over an hour. Renly's session was relatively short; for figures like Jim Parsons, spending two hours would be considered normal.
Elliot nodded. "Indeed, that's the case."
Parking space nearby was limited, so long-term parking was out of the question. Generally, managers would agree on a rough departure time, then coordinate with their artists to ensure everyone could leave in an orderly fashion. Of course, this wasn't 100% certain; top-tier celebrities naturally had some privileges. However, for newcomers like Renly, it was much more difficult. Many newcomers even left by taxi since they didn't have dedicated transportation.
Wait, why had it suddenly become him answering Renly's questions? This didn't make sense! "So, you're saying you really got lost?" Elliot shook his head, what was his initial question?
"Do you know where the celebration party for the crew of "The Pacific" is being held?" Renly inquired further.
"I know, it's in Beverly Hills..." Elliot wanted to bite his tongue off. How did he obediently get caught in this question-and-answer loop?
Renly's face lit up with a big smile. "That's perfect then. Can you take me there? I was planning to go back to the hotel for a bit, but looking at the time now, to avoid being late, I better rush over immediately. No one wants to be late for a Steven Spielberg party, right?"
Bending over, Renly retrieved his trophy from the case and waved to Ed, then signaled to Hope and the other two. Whistles echoed from the bar patrons, a cheerful farewell to Renly.
Lifting the trophy, Renly exaggeratedly showcased it, drawing laughter from everyone. He walked to the side of the road and hailed a taxi. The cab smoothly pulled over, and Renly got into the back seat. He looked up to see Elliot still standing there, bewildered. Raising his voice, he called out, "Aren't you getting in?" "Oh." Elliot snapped back to reality, nodding and quickly getting into the cab, pulling the door shut.
How had things developed to this point? Why was he now sitting in a taxi with Renly? More importantly, why did the taxi arrive so quickly upon hailing?
This wasn't New York; Los Angeles' taxi system was quite unique. Since nearly everyone had a car here, if you needed a taxi, you generally had to call a major taxi company to reserve one. Hailing a taxi on the street was possible, but extremely rare.
Yet now, everything felt eerie, and Elliot's mind struggled to wrap around it.
Elliot noticed that the taxi hadn't moved, still parked in the same spot. Outside the window, the young people from before were still there. Elliot turned his head and saw both the driver and Renly's questioning gazes focused on him. "I don't know where the party is being held," Renly reminded.
Elliot suddenly realized and rubbed his slightly sore temple. "Uh, it's in the Mulholland Drive community area. I'll give you directions."
The taxi driver snapped his fingers. "No problem," he said, releasing the handbrake. "Folks, are we heading there for the party?"
For Los Angeles drivers, Beverly Hills was as familiar as it could get. Every year, gossip magazines and websites even updated "Celebrity Maps" of LA, offering tours for tourists to see the lavish homes of the stars. The Mulholland Drive community area was one of the most exclusive, completely closed off. Even top-tier superstars might not be able to buy a house there since the villas were limited, and they were already occupied. They had to wait for someone to sell.
"Yes, let's broaden our horizons," Renly said cheerfully.
Elliot shook his head. Why did he feel like he was in Alice's Wonderland?
Hope reluctantly watched the taxi's receding figure, then finally couldn't contain herself and began to scream, "Aaah!" She jumped around in excitement, everything felt so wonderful. She thought today was going to be a disaster, but now, not only did Renly win an Emmy, she had also come into direct contact with him. God, she would remember this day forever.
Hope's excitement infected William and Graham, and they couldn't restrain their excitement. Even Ed, standing nearby, burst into laughter. "Wait, wait," Graham suddenly remembered something and dashed towards the bar. Hope and William looked at his back in confusion, then saw Graham take something from the bar's window ledge and excitedly run back. Before they could speak, Graham enthusiastically exclaimed, "I recorded everything just now."
"What!" Both Hope and William were shocked. Lost in the surprise of meeting Renly, they completely forgot about taking pictures, let alone recording videos.
Watching Renly get into the taxi, Hope felt a tinge of regret. It would have been great to have some video footage from tonight. But one shouldn't be too greedy, right? Yet now, Graham claimed he had recorded it all?
Graham nodded affirmatively. "Yeah, I saw Renly performing "Cleopatra" and my first thought was to record the whole thing. But I was in the crowd, and my angle wasn't great. I placed it on the bar's window ledge; the position was just right to capture the entire scene."
"Graham!" William hugged his friend tightly, expressing his inner elation through this direct gesture.
Graham chuckled mischievously. "This is a moment worth commemorating." He then lowered his head, trying to turn on his phone to confirm, but after pressing the buttons, the phone showed no response. Graham panicked. William and Hope were also stunned. Graham nervously tapped his phone against his palm and held down the power button for a while, still getting no response. He felt his whole body turn cold.
"Um..." Ed's voice came from behind. The three kids turned their heads together. "It's just a guess, but could it be that your phone's out of battery? After all, our performance took quite a while, and smartphone batteries aren't that durable..." Ed hesitated a bit, "But that's just a guess."
"Out of battery, it must be out of battery!" William patted Graham's back repeatedly, consoling him.