"Oh my, that’s a good shot," said Director Harrison. "Can we request the footage? Will they allow it?"
The first AC nodded his head.
"It will take some convincing. They won’t be happy about what we are doing here."
Gathered around them was the entire crew of Long Live the Quinn, as well as Hyerin and Min-Ha.
Their collective attention was fixated on the smart TV set outside the production’s RV.
A news channel was on, broadcasting a car chase.
The speeding blue Toyota Supra, being hounded by a fleet of more than a dozen cars, was worsening Hyerin’s anxiety attacks.
As if that wasn’t enough, the diabolical driver who also happened to be her friend was proudly giving the middle finger to the authorities.
’Keep your hands on the wheel!’ she screamed inside, squeezing Min-Ha’s hand.
"I think you shouldn’t watch this," Min-Ha said. "Go, eat something."
"No, it’s fine. I’ve lost my appetite."
There was a slight commotion as the crowd stirred.
"That was a good run."
Hyerin exhaled a sigh. "Finally."
It was an odd feeling to be relieved at her friend’s capture, but it was far better to imagine him behind bars than in an emergency room.
"What now?" asked Min-Ha. "If he goes to prison, who will pay us?"
"That’s what you’re thinking?" Hyerin looked enraged. "’Is he okay?’
"I mean, come on, what could possibly happen to him?"
A voice interrupted their chatter.
The director’s gaze followed the movement inside the Supra.
"He isn’t surrendering."
"Those pigs!" Averie slammed his fists on the wheel. "They cornered us into a trap!"
They were on a narrow path surrounded by rows of shops, not far from a residential area. At the end of the road was a spike strip.
"How did you stop in time?" muttered the first cameraman.
"Forget that," said the sound guy. "How did you even see it?"
"It felt too deliberate. They blocked every road I wanted to take, leaving only this route open. This is what they wanted."
The fleet of cars drove in and parked behind the Supra, blocking the exit.
Shouts of ’Come out,’’Get out,’’Slowly, now,’ sounded over the sirens.
In the flashing red and blue light, Averie tightened his grip on the wheel.
The second cameraman looked around the car. "Should we?"
"This is not one bit pleasant," complained the sound guy. "How did I let them make a criminal out of a straight guy?"
"Well, it was an experience. Good work, Mr. Quinn. We should—"
Averie’s amber eyes glowed in the dark.
He put the car in first gear and drove the right wheels onto the sidewalk.
The police flinched back, and the ones in the front got back inside their cars, expecting the actor to push through the spikes.
Holding the clutch down, he pressed the accelerator.
"Cover your noses, boys."
He released the clutch and immediately pushed the brake.
The wheels rotated, but the car barely moved.
The friction between rubber and pavement successfully produced a plume of white smoke.
"Get out when I say so!" Averie screamed over the sound of the wheel.
The burnout soon filled the entire place with a thick layer of white smoke.
Averie pulled out a brick from his bag and kissed it.
"You have been a good friend," he whispered to it. "I had hoped to hit a few people with you, but destiny has different plans for you."
"Are you going to arrange it on the pedal?"
Averie turned to the cameraman. "Are you stupid? That would never work."
He turned to the others.
"On the count of three, okay?"
Averie jumped out of the car and ran into the closest alley.
"You traitor!" yelled the cameraman.
Filming equipment in hand, the three threw their doors open and followed Averie on foot.
They ran through the narrow streets, being yelled at and pursued by police officers on foot.
"How are you lot keeping up with those cameras over your shoulders?"
"We are used to this, damnit!"
"Camera operators have it the hardest!"
"Don’t look down on the technical staff!"
After a sweaty jog, Averie stopped in his tracks.
He turned around, put the brick on the ground, and kicked it towards the rushing policemen.
"He threw something on the ground!"
In the dark, they could not tell what the rectangular object was.
"See, kids?" Averie addressed the cameras. "Substance doesn’t matter; it’s all about attitude."
His face was drenched in sweat, and his breaths were ragged.
"You think the legitimacy of your resume matters? Write whatever you want on it and present it with utmost confidence. Be cocky and say, ’I left a few things out.’ Look them in the face and lie."
The police officers were shouting at him, but he continued dauntlessly.
"Remember when Father came home drunk and Mother confronted him? He was clearly drunk, but he insisted he wasn’t, slurring all the while. That’s what you need to do, kids. Take a lesson from your alcoholic of a father."
After taking a few turns through the labyrinth of back alleys, the group’s feet halted.
"Well, that was fun."
They had hit a dead end. Only an impregnable wall stood in front of them.
The tired crew members readily accepted their fate, feeling a sense of absolution.
But Averie was not so willing to accept his fate.
"Never give up, boys and girls," he said. "Crime has persisted throughout the centuries not because it is fun, but because of its tenacity."
Averie took out a folding knife from his pocket.
"Hold it for a minute."
He opened and handed it to the sound guy.
At that moment, the police stormed in, screaming instructions.
"Oh, thank god!" Aveire cried, tears glimmering in the corner of his eyes. "He has a knife! Please, help! They’re—they kidnapped me! Help!"
It was a convincing act, so much so that everyone took a minute to appreciate such a fine display of art.
"Oh lord! They cursed, threatened, and made me drive!"
If they hadn’t seen him break laws with their own eyes, they would have truly believed the diabolical actor.
He was arrested right away.