The final scene of "Detachment" had wrapped, and Renly felt a sense of emptiness enveloping him.
Every time he wrapped a project, it was always a painful process for Renly, as if he were abruptly pulled from a dream back into reality. When he had finished shooting 'Mad Love' in the past, he had fallen ill, experiencing a sensation akin to catching a common cold. The illness itself wasn't too severe—just a runny nose, a feverish head, and a nagging cough. After all the minor discomforts were treated, his body still remained incredibly heavy, his mind foggy, as if drawing out the hidden exhaustion and soreness from his muscles and blood one thread at a time was necessary for a full recovery.
But this time was different. He felt a profound sense of exhaustion, yet that was all it was. His inner world was desolate, much like the feeling one had when they had diligently studied the entire semester, eagerly anticipating the arrival of summer vacation. However, when summer vacation did arrive, and they left behind their friends, school, and the weight of their studies, suddenly finding themselves with free time, they felt a peculiar sense of discomfort. It wasn't sadness, pain, or reluctance; it was merely a faint sense of loss.
Reflecting on the nearly two months that had passed, each day adhering to a rigid schedule of script reading, performance preparation, and getting into character, it had become a part of his life. Each day was arduous but fulfilling. There was also his experience of living in the Bronx, a period of extreme hardship, like walking on a tightrope, yet it was an incredibly precious time. It had not only become a part of Henry Barthes's life but also a part of him.
Suddenly, the shoot had wrapped, and Renly stood in place, feeling a pang of melancholy.
Sami, Betty, and the other children, led by Renly, rushed up to take photos, get autographs, and hug him. Except for Sami, the other children might never appear on the movie screen again. This was their one and only on-screen experience, their one and only special summer, and they all hoped to preserve these memories.
But whether this scorching summer would alter the course of their lives remained uncertain.
Afterward, many crew members approached, eager to capture this rare and arduous, painful yet joyful filming experience with photos alongside Renly. No one knew what kind of success "Detachment" would achieve after its release, or if it would even be released smoothly, but they all knew that this filming experience had become a part of their lives.
Following the disbandment of the crew, Renly didn't immediately leave. Instead, he strolled along the streets of the Bronx, experiencing the chaos and desolation of this run-down area. He thought back to the children at Mount Sinai Hospital who, despite facing death sentences, continued to strive for survival, much like resilient weeds.
Life was fair; everyone faced their own hardships and torment. Each person chose their own way to cope and ultimately reached their own conclusion. Step by step, every footstep on their path was their own doing, and their ending was their own choice. They didn't seek brightness; they sought integrity.
The residents of the Bronx were like this, the children at Mount Sinai Hospital were like this, and Renly was like this. He clenched his fists, feeling the determination pressing into his palm like never before.
Leaving the Bronx, he took the subway back to Manhattan, navigating through the familiar yet unfamiliar concrete jungle, trying to find his way to his apartment. Yet once again, he forgot the name of the street he lived on. Honestly, it had been nearly a year since he moved to the new apartment, but he had spent less than three months there. It seemed less familiar than a hotel.
Renly felt a pang of regret; he wished he had just asked Nathan to drive him back. After a moment's contemplation, he took out his phone and dialed a number.
"You should know, we can't fully trust the client's words. If he's lying, it could put us in a difficult position in court. That's why we need to conduct our own investigation. Investigation doesn't mean merely parroting the client's statements."
Charlotte Kelly lowered her head, unable to meet his gaze. Her hands nervously intertwined, fingers fidgeting, even her toes hidden in her high heels and encased in stockings seemed to curl inward. The voice on the other end was chilly and stern, devoid of overt anger or blame, yet the underlying indifference carried a sharp, thunderous force that stripped her of the courage to lift her head and face him directly.
Matthew Dunlop was usually polite and reserved, his demeanor often exuding an icy air that discouraged familiarity, but without any aggressiveness. While the employees at the law firm held a certain awe of him, it was not fear. In fact, many female staff secretly admired him, discussing his every move in hushed tones.
Charlotte was no exception.
However, Charlotte hadn't anticipated that the work-related Matthew would be meticulous, rigorous, even severe. His words, though calm, carried a stormy, tumultuous force that made her feel utterly insignificant, trembling in fear, her courage to resist waning.
Charlotte felt like she was suffocating, unable to sense anyone else in the office. The entire space seemed eerily silent, with no end in sight.
The office door creaked open, and a figure cautiously peeked inside. Matthew's words abruptly ceased, but the frigid atmosphere didn't abate; instead, it cascaded down like a thunderstorm, intimidating the person at the door. Nevertheless, the assistant gathered the courage to continue, "Matthew, it's an internal call."
Matthew remained silent, causing the assistant to grit their teeth and finish their sentence, "It's from Mr. Hall."
Silence, still silence. Just when the assistant was on the verge of giving up, they heard Matthew's voice, cold and clear, "Put the call through."
"Alright." The assistant retreated. Charlotte's neck ached, and her shoulders stiffened to the point of numbness. She dared not make a single movement, fearing that the calm volcano that was Matthew would erupt at any disturbance.
Matthew picked up the phone on the conference table, pulled the cord, and walked to the glass wall. He spoke, "This is Matthew Dunlop."
"Hey, Charles." The familiar voice on the other end made a twitch pull at the corner of Matthew's mouth. "Uh, do you remember where my house is on that street? I'm feeling a bit uncertain right now."
Matthew closed his eyes and adjusted his breathing without displaying any emotion. "I've sent the address to your phone. Did your work just finish today?"
"Yeah, just finished. I've been in the Bronx for a while, and coming back to Manhattan all of a sudden, it feels really strange. I almost don't recognize the city. Even though I've been to the favelas in Rio, that's a different country, a different land. But now, in New York, it's like I've arrived in two completely different worlds. It's really weird. So, I think I might be a bit lost."
Matthew chuckled softly, a slight upward curve gracing his lips. "Are you sure it's not because you never had a sense of direction to begin with?" He quipped, and then, realizing the ongoing meeting behind him, added, "Do you need me to call a taxi for you? I can give them the address in advance and have them take you straight back."
"No, it's okay. I plan to walk back. I got off at the subway station, and if I remember correctly, it's just three streets away, right?"
Matthew was about to respond with a comment like, "Assuming you choose the right direction, otherwise you might end up at the Statue of Liberty," but Renly carelessly bid "Goodbye" and hung up. This made Matthew chuckle again, and he put the receiver back in its place. He turned around, only to find that everyone in the conference room had uncomfortably averted their gazes, including Charlotte.
Charlotte lowered her head heavily, quickly hiding her eyes. Her astonishment and shock were impossible to conceal, and the sudden emotional rollercoaster left her feeling flustered. She silently prayed that Matthew hadn't noticed her reaction.
In contrast, Matthew, the center of attention, remained calm. He calmly scanned the conference room before returning to the front of the table, sitting down again as if nothing had happened. He took out his silenced phone, edited and sent the address, and then resumed speaking, "We need to restart the investigation and then communicate with the client..."
The meeting ended faster than expected. After watching Matthew leave the conference room, Charlotte finally relaxed. The tension in her shoulders eased, and her colleagues came over to pat her on the back, offering words of comfort. Charlotte gathered her composure and shook her head. She knew that her mistake was entirely her own, and Matthew's reprimand had been justified. Such errors were the tuition that rookies had to pay. Fortunately, Matthew was willing to teach her.
"That phone call just now was really well-timed. Otherwise, I felt like I was suffocating," someone whispered beside her. Charlotte froze for a moment, then got lost in her thoughts.
Matthew decided to move his lunch break up by thirty minutes. He couldn't help but worry about Renly.
Renly was undoubtedly intelligent, but his life skills were abysmal. His fridge remained perpetually empty, his clothes went unwashed for days, and clutter accumulated without being organized. Matthew believed that there was a good chance Renly wouldn't find his way back home and might end up staying at a roadside cafe or stumbling upon a supermarket, sitting on the floor and getting engrossed in a book, losing track of time.
It wasn't just random speculation on Matthew's part; it had happened before. He still remembered the first time Edith Hall had called him, her polite yet chilly voice inquiring about Renly's whereabouts. The Hall family was surprisingly unfazed, displaying no concern about Renly's disappearance. If it hadn't been for Edith, no one would have even noticed Renly was missing. In the end, Matthew had found Renly at a Tesco supermarket, engrossed in reading "The Metamorphosis".
Returning to Renly's apartment, finding the key on the doorframe, and sliding open the door, Matthew saw the canvas shoes casually scattered on the floor. He knew that Renly had eventually found his way back. Could it be because Manhattan Island was relatively small?