As noon drew closer, the sun's power grew more intense. A dry and scorching dustiness permeated the air, as if taking a deep breath would instantly set one's lungs ablaze. The shimmering heatwaves distorted the view, making it hard to imagine that it was already October.
Merely spending five minutes outside making a phone call, Paul's back was already damp with sweat. Hanging up the call, he hurried into the studio. The indoor space, devoid of the sun's grasp, instantly cooled down. Faint breezes circulated around, offering a respite, yet the sticky sensation clung to the skin, growing tighter instead of fading. The pervasive unease in the air infused the atmosphere with a raw tension, as if filled with apprehension.
The crew members in his line of sight were all bustling about, fervently preparing for the afternoon shoot. However, today, everyone's demeanor was slightly askew. Moving cautiously, they tiptoed forward, afraid of making any noise. They lowered their heads, diligently attending to their tasks. Simultaneously, their peripheral glances communicated incessantly. With passing exchanges, their gazes converged on the same spot, engaging in silent conversations through lip movements before retracting their eyes and hurrying on.
"Paul, Paul." A junior assistant from the production team hurried over, as if spotting a savior, and tightly grasped Paul's arm. "Vin's not in a good mood today, a really bad mood. Just now, he knocked over coffee for both the director's team and the actors' team. Then he kicked and broke two chairs from the makeup team. He's on the phone now, refusing makeup. Justin is about to arrive, and we're completely unprepared. What should we do?" The Justin he referred to was the director.
A catastrophe. Today's start was turning into a complete catastrophe. Less than ten minutes remained until the scheduled start time, yet the set was in shambles. The preparations had not entered the groove at all. Everyone was earnestly anxious and apprehensive. If things continued this way, when accountability was traced layer by layer, it would be the lower-tier crew members who suffered in the end.
What was even more critical was that no one had managed to placate Vin, so the disruptions to work would persist.
Following the collective gaze, Paul easily spotted Vin on the phone by the makeup area. He resembled an infuriated bull, pacing in circles, his face contorted with frustration as he sought a target for his mounting aggression. The ferocity in his expression was enough to make people keep their distance, creating an empty space around him.
In the past, Paul would have surely approached Vin to calm him down, then assuaged the emotions of the crew members, restoring the normalcy of the shoot. However, today, Paul didn't want to clean up Vin's mess. "Don't pay him any mind. Let him cool down, and when Justin arrives, he'll regain his composure."
The junior assistant looked at Paul, utterly taken aback.
Paul, usually kind, amiable, and radiant, what had come over him? Why was he suddenly observing coldly today? Seeing Paul turn away with indifference, walking in a different direction, the junior assistant felt as though his worldview had been shattered. This was even more disconcerting than Vin's thunderous anger.
Was this... the end of the world? What on earth had happened today?
Paul made his way to a secluded corner in the resting area, found a seat, and warmly greeted the nearby Jordana Brewster, Sun Kang, Tyrese Gibson, and others. They engaged in lively chatter about amusing incidents from last night until noon today, and the atmosphere immediately grew vibrant.
As high-pressure and low-pressure zones collided, the atmospheric pressure chart within the studio began to appear unusual. The staff members were even more apprehensive, and unconsciously, most of them began gravitating toward the resting area, as if the temperature in the makeup area was gradually dropping.
Vin angrily hung up the phone and raised his hand to hurl the phone directly towards the ground. With a sharp "bang", the screen of the phone shattered like a spiderweb, but the back still appeared undamaged. Feeling insulted, Vin strode forward and viciously stomped the phone with his heel twice. In a matter of seconds, the phone that had been perfectly fine moments ago turned into a lump of scrap metal.
Yet, Vin still felt unsatisfied. He lifted his head, observing the crew members who were avoiding him, comparing the obviously segregated makeup area and the resting area. His fury was gradually slipping out of control, like a runaway stallion.
Vin charged towards the resting area with large strides, his unstoppable momentum reminiscent of a meteor crashing into the Earth. It seemed as if the universe would erupt into a cosmic explosion in the next second. Everyone involuntarily held their breath. "What the hell are you all doing here?"
In English, "you" can both refer to an individual or a crowd. As Vin launched his scathing accusations, nobody knew who he was referring to exactly. For a moment, everyone was frozen, laughter solidified in the air. All gazes converged on Vin, as if he were the target of a collective stare.
Vin felt as if he stood against the world, as if the entire world were opposing him. This feeling was utterly dreadful. His eyes remained locked onto Paul. Because he knew, within the entire crew, the only one who could stand up against him directly was Paul. "Paul," he demanded, seeking confrontation. Paul responded with a cool detachment, neither heated nor cold. His succinct words carried a sharp edge. While Paul generally avoided confrontation, everyone knew that once this usually gentle person was provoked, the outcome could be significant.
"What the hell are you talking about!" Vin shot back directly, "Damn it, you know I didn't mean that. What the hell are you trying to say? Are you challenging me, or are you showing off your abilities?" Vin's words were concise, repeatedly using the same phrases. Compared to verbal clashes, physical confrontation was his forte.
Paul's temper flared. Initially, he had been intending to ignore Vin's provocations with the help of Renly's dissuasion. After all, the person involved didn't seem to care too much. But now, with Renly stepping back, Vin was still acting confrontational. What kind of logic was this?
Paul, too, was straightforward. He disliked beating around the bush. With a determined motion, he stood up. "You know damn well what I mean! Do you even know what you're doing? That kind of prank is simply childish, shameless, cowardly, idiotic, foolish, and laughable! If you have an issue, you can damn well say it straight, without resorting to sneaky tactics! You're coming across as petty!"
Vin's staunch words left him rolling his eyes, unyielding. "It's just a training day!"
"Training day" was police jargon in Los Angeles, referring specifically to the first day rookies joined the force. Experienced officers were responsible for training them, giving them a dose of shock education to help them acclimate to police life. This day was referred to as a "training day".
"Go to hell!" Paul retorted forcefully, "You're full of shit! You're just simple-mindedly opposed to your authority being challenged! You're simply refusing to acknowledge someone else's dominant position! You're a self-centered megalomaniac! No, I misspoke. You're a child afraid of others taking away your toys! Yes, you heard me right, a child!"
The other actors sitting nearby involuntarily held their breath. This version of Paul was quite foreign to them; this type of argument, even more so. For a while, everyone was at a loss, utterly bewildered.
Vin clenched his teeth tightly, truly not skilled in verbal arguments. His fists were tightly clenched, muscles taut, ready to step in and start a fight at any moment. The immediate sense of crisis and urgency left everyone trapped in breathless awkwardness.
However, Paul wasn't intimidated in the slightest. Not only did he not step back, but he also took two steps forward, his fists clenched as well, fiercely confronting Vin's provocation. It was as if he had prepared himself for a brawl.
Vin disliked his authority being challenged. First it was Renly, now Paul—so who would it be next?
Paul disliked Vin's arrogance and reckless behavior. Today it was Renly, but tomorrow it could be any newcomer on the set.
In reality, the situation now had little to do with Renly.
"Yes, I dislike him! More accurately, he disgusts me!" Vin suppressed his feelings, not because Paul had been a friend for ten years, but because Paul was an unwavering pillar of the "Fast & Furious" series. If they were at odds, the impact on Paul would be limited. However, as a producer, it could be fatal for Vin. In the end, he loosened his fists.
Looking around, Vin quickly spotted Renly standing on the edge of the set. At the moment, Renly was chatting with the photographer's assistant, a bit of a distance away. Their voices were not entirely clear, but it was evident that their conversation was lighthearted and engaged.
"What's he showing off to? What's he pretending for? He's not Brando or Streep. Who's he acting for here? It's the 21st century; these affected theatrics no longer work. We all know he got to where he is by selling his ass. Everyone tacitly understands that. So, why does he need to put on such an air of superiority?"
Vin's words were crass, almost every sentence laced with profanity, mocking and derisive, sharp and bare, leaving no dignity intact.
"Then how should he act? Sit there and sleep? Stare blankly? Have a snack? And then when it's time to perform, not even remember his lines?" Paul's counter-attack tightened around Vin's throat. "You don't like him because you know you can't be him!"
Before Paul could finish his sentence, Vin's fist swung, but Paul had prepared. He sidestepped and used his left hand to push. Clearly caught off guard, Vin not only underestimated Paul's readiness but also his willingness to fight back. The split-second stiffness caused a reflexive hesitation, and he took a hit. He stumbled awkwardly to the side, staggering three or four steps to avoid a complete fall.
"You motherf*cker!" Vin was infuriated this time, completely disregarding how important Paul was or what the repercussions might be for the production. He swung his fist and charged forward. But by then, all the crew members had reacted and swarmed in, pulling the two apart.
Yet, Vin was relentless, struggling against the restraints, trying to continue the fight. Then, a wave of reprimands sounded from nearby. "What the hell are you doing?"
Turning his head, Vin saw members of the director's team and the production team arriving en masse.