Clutching the unlit cigarette in his mouth, Renly took an instinctive puff before realizing it wasn't lit. A surge of impulsiveness made him consider lighting it.
The brief contact just moments ago had lasted no more than three or five minutes, yet everything felt so familiar. It was as if Renly had never left at all. The eighteen months seemed to vanish, and he was once again within those suppressed, bewildered, restrained, and struggling days of memories.
"You're not a genius, never were. You're not foolish, at least you should know when to give up. Dreams? Those are illusions believed by failures and the destitute."...
Those ice-cold, cutting words kept echoing in his ears. From childhood to adulthood, they were consistently harsh, indifferent, and cruel. They seemed to never fade, entwined like aquatic plants around his ankles, akin to a nightmare that clung to him, as if a sword of doom forever suspended over his head.
Searching his pants and jacket pockets, he found no trace of a lighter. As panic reached its zenith, it eventually subsided. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then another.
Perhaps he wasn't a acting genius; perhaps dreams would never come true; perhaps persistence was just foolish and futile resistance; perhaps the allure of Hollywood would devour him in an instant; perhaps the brilliant performances of "The Pacific" and "Buried" were fleeting fireworks; perhaps people would ultimately learn to compromise with life; perhaps the beautiful idea of remaking society only existed in utopia, with reality ultimately changing people; perhaps even the sharpest edges would be dulled over time; perhaps it was a kindness to oneself to abandon things quickly; perhaps... perhaps all of this was reality, as hard and unyielding as iron.
But he had no regrets.
Looking back at the path he had traversed, stumbling steps, soaked in blood, yet feeling a happiness and contentment he had never experienced before. He had spent ten years in regret, a lifetime in wandering, another lifetime in exploration. This time, he wouldn't hesitate or waver.
Even if the destination was a profound abyss, he wouldn't give up.
He was no longer Chu Jiashu. Opening his eyes again, he removed the unlit cigarette from his mouth. The tumultuous thoughts in his mind settled once more, becoming clearer step by step. The long-lost tranquility and sensation returned.
Gazing at the streets of London before him, a scene both unfamiliar and familiar, he gradually began to appreciate the city.
Reconsidering the scene just now, Renly realized his thoughts had deviated slightly, or perhaps his perspective had. The focus wasn't on the exhaustion accumulated from visa applications, nor was it on speculating Jacob's and Anna's relationships with Sam and Emma. Instead, it was about the wavering of his convictions.
Jacob and Anna both knew there was a problem between them, but neither knew where the issue lay. Thus, they didn't know how to solve it. Their inner restlessness had taken over, leading them to accuse each other ceaselessly: blaming the visa issue, accusing infidelity, blaming the weariness of life, blaming each other for not understanding, even accusing Jacob for speaking too loudly, as Anna had.
Were these the roots of their problems? Maybe they were, maybe they weren't.
This entanglement and confusion led their convictions to falter.
Once upon a time, they had unwaveringly believed that love could conquer all, that distance couldn't separate them, that life's obstacles would be overcome, and that even traversing mountains and valleys, enduring countless hardships, they could ultimately be together. But now, they were beginning to question their initial conviction: could they still make it to the end together?
It was akin to a medical placebo, where doctors assure patients that a medication is a miracle drug with the potential to cure their illness. Consequently, the patients' conditions genuinely improve, even cancer is miraculously cured, although the chances are infinitesimally small. People call this the power of belief.
However, when this "faith" collapses, the entire world previously built upon it crumbles into pieces, dissipating like smoke.
Jacob and Anna still loved each other deeply, but the conviction that they could conquer all had vanished. They tried to locate the problem, yearning to stand by each other till the end, yet it devolved into mutual accusations, especially the irritability and anger, the oppression and confusion, which magnified every nuance of their emotions to the extreme, even becoming hideously ugly.
They both struggled and both felt defeated; they both were angry and both felt helpless.
This reminded Renly of the feeling he had when he watched "Like Crazy". They loved each other so deeply but had to choose to part ways.
Lifting his head again, Renly saw no sign of Elf and Matthew at the end of the street. If his belief wavered, where would his life head next?
Retracting his gaze, Renly returned upstairs, pushed open the room door, and found everyone still crammed in the not-so-spacious hallway, holding their positions. No one had relaxed or slackened. Renly nodded apologetically, conveying his regret. "I'm sorry for the delay. I'm ready now, and we can start shooting."
Yet, Drake caught hold of Renly's arm and shook his head. Renly was puzzled, and he looked at Drake with confusion. Drake pointed to his own hoarse throat, indicating that after risking speaking earlier, he could barely utter a word now. Then he gestured toward the kitchen, shook his head, widened his eyes, attempting to convey something to Renly.
However, Renly remained in the dark.
Bryan Stanis, the director's assistant standing nearby, had to step forward and quietly explain, "Felicity's not in a good state, a really bad one. She's sitting there, saying nothing, and hasn't moved since you left. Drake tried to approach her just now, but she smashed the wine glass on the floor."
Renly could imagine the shock this must have caused among everyone. Felicity was usually gentle and friendly, so her sudden display of irritability likely startled them all.
Nevertheless, Renly also understood Felicity's emotions. It was like being trapped in a transparent cocoon, able to see everything outside clearly but no matter how hard one struggles, unable to break through. The mind was a complete mess, thoughts impossible to organize. If one forced a performance, it only led to more confusion, losing rhythm and sensation entirely. This feeling was truly awful.
But even if Renly wanted to help Felicity, he was powerless.
Performance was a deeply personal matter. Others could teach methods, tricks, but ultimately, it relied on the performer's own understanding and digestion, then reinterpreting it. The same character, even the same emotion, feels unique when portrayed by different actors at different times. This is the allure of stage drama. People have been watching "Hamlet" for half a century, yet they never tire of it because of this very reason.
Furthermore, Renly was still in the exploratory stage of his acting career, far from reaching the level of guiding others. Felicity needed to find her way out on her own.
Renly fell silent, pondering. Perhaps he couldn't directly guide her, but he could offer some guidance by conveying his own understanding of the scene to Felicity. The issue was that Felicity was currently agitated, her mind in chaos, and she couldn't calm down to think clearly. Dialogue couldn't resolve this. Thus, they found themselves back at square one.
"... " Drake lifted his chin and gestured toward the kitchen, giving Renly a look. This time, Renly understood. Drake hoped Renly would do something to solve the current problem.
Renly, however, shrugged, indicating his helplessness.
Drake rolled his eyes, pointed at his watch, then at the camera. His demeanor was quite comical, resembling an acrobat in a circus act.
Renly understood. Drake was saying that during their previous performance, he had been able to provide guidance and bring out the best state of the scene partner actors, be it Felicity or Jennifer. But Renly wasn't a magician; he couldn't conjure something from nothing. When Felicity was in a state, he could guide her. Now, though, Felicity was in no state at all, and he was helpless.
"So, what should we do?" Drake widened his eyes, his voice extraordinarily hoarse, almost inaudible. It was as if a wad of steel wire was stuck in his throat, which almost made Renly chuckle. Seeing the smile forming at the corner of Renly's mouth, Drake felt a mix of annoyance and anger, wanting to flare up. However, he then pictured how comical he must appear in this state and burst into laughter.
The problem was that even laughter seemed hard for Drake. He laughed for a moment and then began to cough. His throat felt as though it had been singed by gunpowder, sharply painful. He hastily grabbed the nearby glass of water and drank heavily. It was quite the amusing sight.
The atmosphere on set suddenly turned joyful.
In truth, the crew was under immense pressure, not just because this scene was crucial, or because both Renly and Felicity were stuck in a bottleneck with their states, but also because Drake had borrowed this house from a friend. Tomorrow was the last day, and after that, they wouldn't even have the means to use it, yet the problem was that tomorrow they still had two scenes of Anna and Simon's interactions to shoot. Time was growing increasingly urgent, and they were now trapped here.
However, at this moment, everyone laughed lightly, temporarily setting aside their internal worries and stress. Renly glanced left and right, his gaze sweeping across the cheerful expressions of everyone. An idea emerged in his mind.
Perhaps music could become a bridge between Felicity and Anna. Felicity's mind was currently a mess, rendering her unable to think, and verbal communication was blocked. What about music? The language and metaphor of musical notes could often serve as a potent tool to break down barriers, establishing connections between reason and emotion.
Unsure if it would work, but at least it was worth a try.
"Can your friend's place provide a keyboard?" Renly looked at Drake, then saw a bewildered expression on his face. Renly chuckled softly. "If you want to speed up shooting, then find a keyboard."