In the abandoned warehouse, silence reigned.
The sounds of air currents colliding with the occasional engine roars from outside made the air inside the studio feel even more stagnant and stiff.
It was frighteningly quiet.
No one had anticipated the beginning of today's shoot, nor its course, and now, no one foresaw this turn of events.
What to do?
Glatt's first reaction was to object—
Absurd!
Impossible!
The photographer interfering with the stylist's work, what kind of international joke was this?
But.
Glatt had worked with Bruce long enough. Bruce not only collaborated with "GQ" but was also seen in almost all the top magazines in the industry. Moreover, Bruce had an excellent reputation, being both professional and decisive, capable of completing his work smoothly in any difficult situation.
This was indeed the first time something like this had happened.
In other words, if Bruce didn't genuinely believe this, he would never interfere with someone else's professional work, he wouldn't even have brought it up.
Furthermore.
Glatt knew all too well how thorny, difficult, and troublesome today's shoot was. She had seen all of Bruce's struggles and hesitations. Now, after careful consideration, Bruce had spoken, but he had presented a dilemma that was difficult to decide upon and could lead to disaster.
So, how should she decide?
In fact, similar situations were not uncommon.
On set, if something didn't feel right, or if details needed adjustment, the stylist changing the outfit, or even the entire theme of the shoot, even crazier things had happened before. When the stylist wasn't present, the editor had the decision-making power and the final say.
That is to say, Bruce was merely making a suggestion, the decision rested with Glatt.
Glatt wanted to curse, in a very ferocious, very rude, very dirty way, but she managed to control herself. She was weighing the pros and cons—
Was Anson worth it?
If it were ten minutes ago, before Anson arrived on set, Glatt would have said without hesitation, business is business, she wouldn't allow any deviations.
Besides, it was just Anson. They didn't even fuss this much when shooting Hugh Jackman's cover, why bother for Anson?
However, now?
Glatt realized her own hesitation and couldn't help but turn to look at Anson.
Anson didn't know the ins and outs, so naturally, he didn't understand the current situation, but he could vaguely guess that it probably had something to do with him.
Anson spread his hands and gave a regretful smile, "Sorry, I'm out of balloons."
Was this... a clown's line?
Not the Joker from "Batman," but a clown from a children's birthday party.
So, was Anson implying that he was out of magic, that he couldn't change the current situation?
Glatt hadn't expected Anson's response at all. She was taken aback for a moment, and then a smile crept onto her lips.
Bruce didn't receive a response. He could see Glatt's struggle and hesitation, and he also knew his request was unusual. He took a deep breath and couldn't help but express his stance with regret.
"Glatt, I know you're in a difficult position. If it's not possible, then forget it."
"I understand. If a stylist stood behind me and told me how to shoot, how to compose, how to light, I'd be the first to flip the table."
"I don't want to put you in a difficult position."
"Anyway, the photos we've taken now are passable. They're not that bad."
It's just that they would be completely overshadowed by the brilliance of Hugh Jackman and Brad Pitt.
But what did that have to do with him? Things like this happened in Hollywood every day. One Anson left, and another "Anson" would appear.
Moreover, he had done his best. He had tried and fought for it, and he had completed his work.
Bruce had a clear conscience.
Glatt took a deep breath, looked away, and then looked at Bruce again, "So, what do you intend to do?"
Bruce blinked, "Glatt?"
Glatt raised her right index finger to stop him, speaking before Bruce could get more excited, "No, I haven't agreed. I'm just open to the possibility. Let me hear your thoughts first. You think the styling isn't working, so how should we modify it? Let me hear it, just how outrageous it is."
Bruce came back to his senses, finding it hard to control his excitement—
But on the surface, he remained expressionless.
Calming down a bit, Bruce started to think about Glatt's question, but... his mind went blank, "This isn't my area of expertise..."
Glatt rolled her eyes, "Bruce!"
Bruce waved his hands repeatedly to explain, "I just have an idea."
"I feel like Anson is being restricted by this suit and this studio. The styling needs to change, otherwise we'll be stuck here forever."
"My idea is that we can leave here and shoot outside. We don't need to go anywhere else, just stay in Melrose, and let Anson bring his skateboard."
A suit paired with a skateboard?
Glatt: ...
Bruce also noticed Glatt's expression and quickly added, "You saw it too, when Anson arrived today, his vitality and charm, this is a side that even 'Friends' didn't show."
"If we can combine Anson's own temperament with the charm of the suit, trust me, this will become a classic. Although I don't know what kind of spark it will create, I have a very good feeling about it."
Now, Glatt finally understood what Bruce meant, "Is this the inspiration you've been searching for?"
Bruce didn't give a definite answer.
"I don't know. Glatt, I can't lie to you. Honestly, I don't know and I'm not sure, but my intuition tells me we should give it a try."
As expected, Bruce was an honest man, blurting out the truth.
Glatt felt a sharp pain in her temples, throbbing, "Oh, Jesus Christ."
Bruce didn't say anything more and quietly waited for Glatt's decision. He had done everything he should have done, and he had no guilt or regrets. No matter what the outcome, he could face it calmly. He hadn't let down his professionalism, nor had he let down "GQ"'s payment.
Then, at this moment—
"Hansel?"
A voice came.
Glatt looked towards the source of the sound with a helpless expression, "This isn't funny."
It wasn't Glatt, but Hansel, Glatt's brother from the fairy tale "Hansel and Gretel."
Growing up, more than one classmate had made similar jokes in front of Glatt, "Gretel, Gretel, where's Hansel? How come you're alone?"
Glatt was truly fed up with it.
Unexpectedly, Glatt saw an innocent face raising both hands in surrender, "I know, this joke is lame and bad, but I think you guys need to relax a bit."
It was Anson.
"Come on, why so serious?"
Looking at that smiling face, the corners of Glatt's mouth lifted helplessly. The anger that hadn't yet risen subsided quietly.
She said, "Hey, gentleman, the problem lies with you right now. You're the one who shouldn't be relaxing."
Anson shrugged slightly, "Well, in my perfect life, I've finally found the second thing I'm not good at."
Bruce: ...
Glatt: ...
Both of them were slightly stunned, and then Glatt subconsciously asked, "What's the first?"
Although Glatt kept telling herself not to ask, she couldn't resist in the end.
Anson replied seriously, "Telling jokes."