Pushing open the car door, Renly was about to get out when he heard Matthew's voice from behind, "Your water bottle."
Renly turned around helplessly. "Didn't you realize I intentionally forgot it?"
In the blink of an eye, he had been working in the recording studio for two weeks now, and the recording work was proceeding methodically. However, Renly initially thought that the progress would be swift, but once he was fully immersed in it, he realized just how wrong he had been.
Recording an album and performing on stage were two entirely different things.
To complete the recording of a four-minute song, first, the music had to be composed, the right instruments selected, and the arrangement done correctly. Then, session musicians needed to perform, and each instrument required its own sheet music. In other words, if there were twelve instruments, they had to be recorded twelve times, assuming each take was flawless.
Next came the singing phase, where every flaw in the singer's performance was magnified to the extreme. Both technique and emotion had to be perfected to true perfection. A single song might be recorded over a hundred times, singing until the singer felt like throwing up or breaking down.
And that wasn't the end. After recording, there was still post-production work, starting with mixing and fine-tuning details. This was just the initial version, and it might require second and third revisions. The post-production work continued until the album was officially released.
In two weeks, Renly had only completed the recording of six songs. Even so, his speed was considered quite fast. Some artists might spend four to six months in the studio for a single album, not counting the pre-production time.
However, Renly was actually enjoying this life. Just like acting, rock climbing, or hiking, when he threw himself wholeheartedly into something, he always found endless pleasure, especially in a brand new world full of wonder and magic that outsiders couldn't understand.
Gradually, Renly had developed a relatively fixed daily routine. He arrived at the recording studio between 10 and 11 in the morning, and then he and Herbert would start composing together, selecting instruments, rhythms, and scales. After lunch, they continued with the composition work or listened to the previous day's work, analyzing its strengths and weaknesses. They worked until around 2 or 3 in the afternoon, at which point they would start recording for the day.
In just two weeks, Renly had caught a glimpse of the tip of the iceberg in the music industry and couldn't help but feel a deep respect for it. However, his overuse of his vocal cords had led to minor symptoms of an itchy throat and cough, which was not good news for his recording work. Therefore, Renly was now being forced to carry a water bottle and drink ginger tea with brown sugar every day.
Originally, they had wanted Renly to drink honey lemon water, but for Westerners, herbal remedies sounded like quackery. Only bohemians and hippies would study such things, and since they didn't smoke, drink, or use drugs, this was their formula for maintaining health. In the end, Renly couldn't stand it and chose brown sugar ginger tea. After all, he was doing daily skincare and whitening routines, but his throat wasn't getting any better. What was the point?
However, the taste of brown sugar ginger tea... Even if it was delicious, drinking it continuously for ten days, one pot after another, was unbearable. Moreover, the taste wasn't great to begin with.
Facing Renly's complaints, Matthew remained expressionless and said seriously, "I know, that's why I reminded you in time, not giving you an excuse."
Answering in such a manner, Renly choked himself for a moment, snatched the water bottle from Matthew, and lifted an eyebrow with a smile. "Even when retaliating, you are so cautious. Truly consistent over the years. It seems I'm not a very good teacher." With that, Renly turned confidently and headed in the direction of Studio Eleven.
Matthew shook his head helplessly. Sometimes, he couldn't help but feel that Renly was better suited to be a trial lawyer than he was. A faint smile escaped from the corner of his mouth before he started the engine and drove away.
Elliot Cort, hidden at a street corner, immediately spotted Renly's figure. With his tall stature, long legs, short-cropped hair, and a simple sailor shirt paired with beige trousers, he effortlessly captured the attention of onlookers, maintaining a casual yet captivating appearance.
Finding Renly's whereabouts wasn't easy.
Since the completion of "50/50", Renly had disappeared as if he had evaporated, leaving no traces through any channel or method. This was simply unimaginable, especially in a world where the internet covered every corner, and true desolation had become almost non-existent.
After much effort, Elliot had found a lead and discovered that Renly had recently returned to New York, seemingly busy with a brand new project but keeping a low profile. After conducting an investigation, aside from information related to Studio Eleven, he had come up empty-handed. Elliot speculated that Renly might be working on the post-production of "50/50" or something similar.
Now, Renly was within arm's reach, and all Elliot needed to do was approach and start questioning. The other paparazzi teams had yet to appear, but Elliot estimated that by this afternoon, his colleagues would arrive in a hurry. He had only the morning to secure this exclusive story.
However...
Elliot couldn't seem to move his feet. Facing Renly now, he almost felt like he had developed a psychological block. In fact, he didn't even understand why.
Every time, Renly always had a smile on his face, was polite, and not only didn't resist but also cooperated fully. Logically, such a celebrity to chase and interview was like a heaven-sent gift. However, Elliot felt that he was always getting entangled and didn't realize it. He felt dizzy and disoriented, as if he were walking through a maze, and before he could figure out what was happening, he found himself back at the entrance.
It was truly baffling and nerve-wracking.
Seeing Renly's figure about to disappear through the main gate, Elliot knew that whether he could catch him this morning was uncertain. He was fully aware of this but still couldn't muster the courage to move. He considered whether he should pick up his camera and take a few photos, but what use would that be? Today, he needed an interview, a scoop; photos were simply ineffective.
His feet seemed glued to the ground, making it impossible for him to move. This frustrated Elliot immensely, and he felt both annoyed and helpless about his pathetic appearance.
"Hey, I know you." Abruptly, without warning, a voice came from behind. Elliot's back muscles instantly stiffened. It was as if he had been hit by a petrification spell from Harry Potter. He stood there, thunderstruck, immobile, and even held his breath, fearing the slightest movement would give away his presence.
It couldn't be him, it definitely couldn't be him. He had hidden himself well, and Renly would surely not discover him. Jesus Christ, Buddha, Allah, or any deity in the heavens, please protect him and help him get through this ordeal. Renly had merely seen a friend and exchanged greetings; it must be so. He couldn't let his thoughts run wild; letting his mind wander would surely scare him to death.
"Elliot, right? You're Elliot, aren't you? The paparazzo from Hawaii last time. I remember you. We even met once at the Emmy Awards, didn't we?" Renly's voice broke Elliot's heart. Then, before him, stood Renly, wearing a cheerful smile and holding a mint-blue water bottle. Elliot tried to muster a smile, but it turned out even uglier than crying. God must be on vacation today.
"Hey, Renly." Elliot forced himself to pull together, resisting the urge to turn and flee. He greeted Renly with a mournful expression.
"Working so early in the morning, indeed diligent," Renly nodded with a smile. "Have you had breakfast? Would you like some coffee?" Renly raised the water bottle in his hand, indicating his friendliness.
But Elliot vehemently waved his hands. "No, really, I'm fine."
Why was Renly so friendly? Why so amiable? Why so kind? Unless he was a hundred percent sure that the information about this meeting was incredibly secretive and that he was the first to trap Renly, Elliot couldn't help but wonder if Renly was waiting for him here. Wait, could it be that Renly was waiting for him? Was this a trap? Had he walked right into it? What should he do?
Seeing Elliot's nervous expression, Renly sighed with regret and curled his lips. He had originally thought that it would be great to finally see a "familiar face", someone whom neither Matthew nor George recognized. He had planned to get rid of the water bottle and say he had finished it, leaving them without evidence. However, this idea had completely backfired.
"All right then, I wish you a pleasant day of tracking and hope you dig up some explosive exclusive news," Renly nodded, his eyes revealing a motivating look. After speaking, he turned and left.
"...," Elliot was a bit slow to react. What had just happened? But he understood Renly's departure. Driven by impulse, he couldn't help but call out, "Renly!" As he saw Renly pause, his heart was already filled with tears. Why did he have to open his mouth? Why? Did he have a penchant for self-torture?
Faced with Renly's puzzled gaze, Elliot had no choice but to ask, "May I inquire if you and Chris were roommates before? I mean, Chris Hemsworth."
Elliot noticed Renly's eyebrow raise slightly, and a trace of playfulness appeared in his deep eyes. He knew that this was the perfect moment to attack. Seizing this opportunity, he clenched his teeth, closed his mouth, and put on a brave and resolute expression.
"Rumors say that you were originally the first choice for Thor, and Kenneth Branagh personally selected you as the male lead. But later, you chose "Buried". So, did you play any role in Chris becoming Thor? When Chris was interviewed earlier, he denied this claim, saying that you had never intended to audition, not even once. He insisted that he won the role purely based on his own merit. Is all of this true?"