Desolation and abandonment stretched as far as the eye could see—barren, broken earth, parched and cracked soil, and a sky tinged with blood. In the midst of this desolate wasteland, a man, covered in oil and dust, walked alone. His robust form stood tall against the scorching and brutal sun. He dragged his long shadow along the ground, and the silent desolation spread beneath his ginger-colored boots. His resolute, weathered brow slightly furrowed, his eyes burst with wild abandon and recklessness. He raised his left hand restlessly, roughly ruffling his unruly hair. In every gesture, a surge of hormones exploded, bearing traces of fierceness, coarseness, and ruthlessness.
In the moment he raised his gaze, his eyes, as tangible as a sharp blade, charged forward, slicing through the camera lens. Transitioning from motion to stillness and then back to motion, this lifelike moment brought each pixel into vivid existence.
"Great! Excellent!" Edith shouted enthusiastically, but her camera shutter never ceased its frantic clicking, resounding through the photography studio.
She knew that Renly needed to move, to exert himself, for it was in breaking the boundaries of dimensions that his allure shone. If they merely attempted to confine Renly within the frame of film, he would appear like a bookworm. Under the lens, Renly was both familiar and unfamiliar. Inspiration continued to surge within Edith's mind, and she reveled in this moment.
Renly, rare as it was, momentarily lost control of his temper. He gritted his teeth, furious at himself for his outburst.
Why had he lost his temper just now? How could he lose it again? It wasn't the first time working with Edith, and he had fallen for her tricks again! Edith had blatantly aimed to provoke him, and he had lost control like an idiot. He knew for sure that he should never let Edith be his photographer. Collaborating with someone who knew him so well was riddled with vulnerabilities.
Then Edith noticed Renly's dilated pupils. She couldn't help but shiver as a dangerous aura emanated from him. Only she knew that Renly was not an angel; he was a demon who should never be provoked easily.
Should she just give up?
The thought of hesitating had barely crossed her mind when Edith clenched her teeth. Regardless of the situation, since they had already started and had come this far, they had to complete a shoot that was worth it. Otherwise, it would be too much of a disadvantage. "A bit more, be more masculine, fiercer! Yes, you are a man! You are the last man on Earth!"
When Chris Evans entered the photography studio, he witnessed this scene. Renly, covered in dust and wearing tattered clothes, his piercing gaze shooting through, exuded a terrifying aura mixed with male hormones. It was overwhelming, and even as a man himself, Chris felt somewhat uneasy.
Involuntarily, Chris slowed his pace, observing the red-hot sensation of the top star who had been in the limelight for the past two months. The taste on his tongue was complex, a mixture of emotions. Although the "Thor" film crew was still working hard on its publicity, and Paramount maintained an optimistic stance publicly, Chris knew that "Thor" was beyond recovery, even on the brink of complete collapse. Combined with the disappointing premiere of "X-Men: First Class", not only Paramount but also other film companies were beginning to grow cautious.
If "Thor" had been affected by word of mouth and its box office performance had been less than satisfactory, it could be somewhat understood. However, the fact that "X-Men: First Class" had garnered positive reviews but still lost out at the box office left everyone scratching their heads.
Even industry insiders couldn't discern whether it was because audiences had lost interest in comic book superheroes, or if the film's content and positioning were problematic, or perhaps the marketing had failed to capture the audience's attention. Naturally, subsequent comic book adaptations felt the weight of this pressure.
As the lead actor in "Captain America", Chris Evans had been suffering from insomnia for two consecutive weeks. He was constantly on edge, his nerves were sensitive, and he felt weakened. He couldn't even find a way to release his pent-up emotions.
Compared to "Thor", the pressure on "Captain America" was already greater. Firstly, "Thor" had Natalie and Anthony, two top-tier stars leading the way, while all the focus in "Captain America" was on Chris himself. Chris was not a newcomer; "Fantastic Four" had propelled him out of the confines of campus comedy and into the A-list, but the failure of "Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer" had sent him back to square one. "Captain America" marked his second foray into the world of superheroes, and almost all media outlets were eager to see his performance: would he succeed or fail?
Secondly, "Thor" faced a challenging release schedule. The previous week had been dominated by the conclusion of the "Harry Potter" series, and the following week would see competition from three movies, including the high-budget productions "Cowboys & Aliens" and "The Smurfs," the former of which had an even higher budget than "Captain America." There was also the low-budget comedy "Crazy, Stupid, Love" in the mix. In short, Paramount, according to its original plan, didn't have high hopes for the prospects of "Captain America" because, compared to Thor, Captain America's personal charm wasn't enough to attract the audience.
Thirdly... "Thor" had failed, "X-Men: First Class" had failed, "Kung Fu Panda 2" had failed, and even "Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides" had been disappointing. It seemed that the summer blockbuster season this year wasn't receptive to commercial films; they were all struggling. Even "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2" was feeling the pressure, let alone "Captain America".
Chris didn't know what he could do; he could only throw himself wholeheartedly into his work. The promotional campaign for "Captain America" had evidently picked up pace, with Paramount increasing its promotional budget, hoping the movie could carve out a path for itself. The only thing Chris could do was cooperate actively. He even began to wonder if accepting the role of Steve Rogers had been a mistake.
Today's shoot for Vanity Fair was an added, last-minute item on his schedule. Clearly, there had been a communication breakdown, as he had arrived at the location before the previous shoot had concluded. Under normal circumstances, such a mistake would never occur, but it seemed that Paramount's publicity department was in disarray.
Furthermore, the subject being photographed at this moment was Renly.
Personally, Chris had neither a positive nor negative perception of Renly because, prior to "Fast 5", he had never even heard of him.
"The Pacific", "Buried", "Like Crazy", these works had generated quite a buzz in the news, but Chris had never watched them, so he had no way to judge. In fact, when he learned from the news that Renly had been absent from the Oscars, he had a certain degree of admiration for him. Such actors were truly rare in Hollywood. Even the former bad boy, Sean Penn, always maintained a proper demeanor in front of the Academy.
Today was the first time Chris had met Renly face-to-face, and it happened in such an unexpected manner that all the images he had seen of Renly in magazines and newspapers were completely overturned. Renly's formidable and aggressive presence had been imprinted deeply in his mind, like a branding mark. He realized that the photo shoot had ended only when he watched Renly approaching him, but it was too late to avoid the situation.
So, what should he do now? How should he react? Were they now enemies or adversaries? Did they need to exchange icy glares? Or should he pretend not to recognize Renly and simply ignore him?
As he pondered, Chris saw Renly's lips curve into a polite smile, and he nodded in greeting, "Good afternoon." There was no tension in the air, no glaring, just a courteous greeting as if a spring breeze had arrived.
"...Good afternoon." Chris felt himself hesitate for a moment and then instinctively replied, forcing a smile as his only reaction. However, he suspected that his smile must have looked terrifying at this moment, perhaps even worse than crying.
Then Chris noticed Renly coming to a stop, a hint of surprise in his eyes, clearly not anticipating this situation. The elegant demeanor juxtaposed with the dirty appearance created a unique harmony, a departure from the dominant and forceful presence during the photoshoot. In his mind, Chris began to imagine what Renly, the federal agent from "Fast 5", might really be like.
"You didn't bring your shield today." This was Renly's response, and Chris stood there dumbfounded for a moment before he saw Renly chuckle lightly. "Or should I say, are you feeling a bit fiery today?" The implication being, are you Captain America or the Human Torch?
"Pfft." Chris couldn't help but burst into laughter directly. He opened his mouth, attempting to banter back and offer an explanation, but his mind went blank. In the end, he dryly replied, "Captain America". It was such a boring response that the previously humorous atmosphere dissipated instantly.
Renly nodded with a smile. "My work here is done. It's all yours from here." With that, Renly turned and walked away.
Chris opened his mouth again, trying to say something, but nothing came out. He watched Renly's departing figure and felt like a complete fool. He was at a loss, completely incapable of responding. It was truly embarrassing. He could have performed better; he should have performed better.
Wasn't "Fast 5" supposed to be their rivalry? Yet, this was their first meeting, not intense or confrontational, no undercurrents, just a friendly greeting? And he had acted like a recent college graduate? If he remembered correctly, Renly was much younger than him! This was...
Chris couldn't help but cover his face in frustration and let out a groan of annoyance.