[Henry Chapman]: Returning Seal City, come for barbecue.
[Henry Chapman]: [Location]
Nora Scott felt a bit embarrassed, picked up her phone, and replied to the message.
[Nora Scott]: Big gold chain, little watch, daily barbecue. Actor Chapman, you’ve been acting a bit off lately.
[Nora Scott]: Haven’t gotten over it yet?
[Henry Chapman]: Almost.
[Nora Scott]: I’ll be there around seven.
Being a movie fanatic, Henry Chapman has spent most years in acting. Shooting a film could take as little as three months, as much as six months, or even longer.
But, Henry Chapman is very serious about each role, spending at least two months getting into character before shooting, and generally taking a month to get out of character after wrapping up. If the character is deeply ingrained, it takes even longer. Nora Scott had seen him out of sync for half a year.
Just like now, after the end of the last film, he’s been posting barbecues in his feed for a month. While promoting "Fire", he wouldn’t stop, and would seek out local barbecue spots no matter how late.
This person truly is a maniac.
Yet, he’s one of the rare friends Nora Scott has in the entertainment industry.
Throwing her phone, storyboard, and notebook into her bag, Nora Scott picked two unfinished books to borrow and read later.
"Hey, beautiful, you’re leaving?"
Every now and then, Steve Singleton would glance at the corner, tapping his pen on the desk to draw Oliver’s attention away from his phone.
[Oliver]: Sis, coming home for the weekend?
[Sophie Scott]: Coming home. But I’ve got plans with friends tonight, so I’m not having dinner at home.
Seeing the message, Oliver let out a "Okay," before glancing at where Steve Singleton was pointing.
The person had left, leaving only a glimpse of their profile, disappearing behind the bookshelf in a blink.
Steve Singleton wore a regretful expression, but Oliver paid no mind.
As Nora Scott drove to the vicinity of the location, it was already seven in the evening.
The snow on the road had been cleared away, but nearby buildings and plants still had snow piled up, and gusts of wind would knock snow off the branches, scattering it across the ground.
The air was dry and cold, and stepping out of the car, Nora Scott felt the biting wind sting her cheeks and neck.
Her only destinations today were the library and driving around, so she had only worn a coat, which wasn’t sufficient against the open-air cold.
Breathing out cold air, Nora Scott walked forward unhurriedly.
This place was a relatively secluded street, home to many underrated restaurants, but due to the off-season and chilly weather, few pedestrians passed by, making it quite desolate.
A cold voice came from ahead.
Nora Scott paused and looked up.
Beside a street lamp, stood a tall figure in a black coat, hood covering his head, his face hidden in the shadows, only his handsome features faintly visible.
Under the swaying tree shadows, the streetlamp’s orange light was faint and fragmented, dappling over him, flickering coldly.
Nora Scott grinned and walked over to him.
The wind blew his hood slightly back, allowing some dim light to fall on his face, separating light and shadow, his clear features still embodying a youthful spirit.
With one hand in his pocket, he turned slightly, and casually said: "I know."
This place, Nora Scott knew better than him.
"To pick you up." Henry Chapman said, pausing, then added, "Out of courtesy."
"Okay." Nora Scott chuckled, raising an eyebrow as she reached him, "I watched ’Fire’, Chapman, I couldn’t tell it was you at all."
Henry Chapman hesitated for two seconds, as if recalling the role, slowly said, "Oh."
His indifferent and even disinterested demeanor made Nora Scott feel it was quite dull, so she said, "I’m complimenting you."
"I’ve heard it many times."
Giving her a cool glance, Henry Chapman bluntly said, "Anyway, you can’t show off."
Brought it upon herself.
He was born to be an actor, but no matter how much effort she puts in, the roles she plays are still herself.
The street was cold and quiet, with few passersby hurriedly wrapped in coats, heads down.
"Continuity, eternal and unending." Henry Chapman’s tone was leisurely, "Director Carter used your phrase as the slogan."
"Mm, I saw it." With cold air filling her lungs, Nora Scott slightly bowed her head, wrapping her scarf around her nose and mouth, "Is he still so pessimistic?"
She remembered Director Carter being long anxious during the filming of "Fire", not only because of the filming pressure but also due to worrying over fading legacies. Now that "Fire" was a hit, she wondered if he felt better.
"Didn’t you talk to him till late before leaving? He said, after talking with you, he wasn’t pessimistic anymore."
"Because it’s pointless." Calmly stated, Henry Chapman glanced at her, clear eyes reflecting skepticism, "Focus on what’s at hand, tread the road beneath your feet, no one can change the era or industry. Did you tell him this?"
Nora Scott chuckled, her breath forming a white mist, quickly scattered by the wind.
She asked, "Pretty reasonable, right?"
After a two-second silence, Henry Chapman retorted: "Where do you place those who change the era?"
No point discussing with this person.
Without walking far, they stopped outside a barbecue restaurant.
Raising her head slightly, Nora Scott glanced at the old facade and asked: "Is this the place you marked out?"
"This place tastes alright, but there’s one ahead that’s better."
Tilting his head at her, Henry Chapman replied, "Mm," "Take me there later."
Nora Scott was taken aback, "Later?"
Henry Chapman was about to explain when rapid footsteps and a puzzled shout came from behind—
A girl’s voice, sweet, and with a soft, sticky undertone in its tail, soft.
Nora Scott cast him a sidelong glance: Nice, inviting a girl along!
Henry Chapman noticed her gaze but didn’t respond, instead turning around.
Within seconds, the girl had hurried over, and as both turned back, they bumped into her.
The girl was sweet-looking, very pretty, seemingly two or three years younger than Nora Scott. Dressed in a black cape coat, paired with leggings and cute boots, her handbag and scarf complemented her outfit. Light makeup, delicately done but not heavy, with hair styled in a casual bun.
Clearly someone who prepared meticulously.
"Chapman." The girl showed her delight, calling Henry Chapman again, then hesitated, glancing at Nora Scott with stiffness and uncertainty, "Who is she...?"
Henry Chapman replied indifferently, "A friend, Nora Scott."
The girl responded, clearly surprised, inevitably casting a few more glances at Nora Scott.
"Hi, I’m Sophie Scott. The ’Scott’ in clothing." The girl clutched her handbag, proactively nodded at Nora Scott, flashing a sweet smile, "Our names are quite alike."
Indeed quite alike...
Nora Scott squinted slightly, not overly warm in her response, "Mm."
Sophie Scott smiled amicably, but the awkwardness was still noticeable.
"You two go inside first," glancing not far ahead, Nora Scott said, "The place next to it sells good roasted potatoes, I’ll check if they have any."
Henry Chapman nodded.
Nora Scott turned to leave, but her bag bumped against her thigh, causing her to frown and hand it to Henry Chapman, "Take my bag inside."
Usually, Nora Scott doesn’t bother with bags when going out. This time, she needed to carry a notebook, storyboard, etc., so she opted for a larger one.
It was somewhat cumbersome.
Henry Chapman naturally took it without saying anything.
Taking a step towards the shop’s entrance, Henry Chapman paused, glanced back at Sophie Scott, and said, "It’s this place."
Sophie Scott obediently responded.
However, as she followed Henry Chapman inside, she furrowed her brows slightly, anxiously scanning the surroundings.
Seeing Nora Scott’s back, she couldn’t help but press her lips.
Having another person, what if we’re photographed later...