Thank you for not looking back at the boss of the explosion
A tip and thank you episode for the boss of "I won't look back at the explosion" (Part 1)
"...I didn't hear clearly. What did you just say?"
"It seems that the signal there is not very good today?" I said," the male voice on the phone was clear, "You are a sure shot at being shortlisted this time... because Tony did not appear in that movie at all."
The Bellini, with only half a glass left, was lightly snorted on the bar countertop, and its reflection stood still in the stream of light.
The swivel chair slid half a circle silently, leading Qingjiuru to face the huge floor-to-ceiling window that was six meters high and took up an entire wall.
The hazy rain and fog outside the window are still falling into the world, blurring the outline of the courtyard and the trees. A whole glass-shaped light gray skylight also diffuses into the living room like rain and fog, illuminating the mobile phone during the call.
There were reflections on the screen.
"You mean, he didn't appear in the movie he starred in." Qingjiuru repeated as calmly as possible.
It was only eleven o'clock in the morning, and the wine in his bottles had already quietly dropped by less than half. But he was not sure whether the person making drunken remarks at this time was himself or his agent.
"Yes, it's unbelievable, isn't it? This is completely a scam." The agent became a little excited, "The bigger the deception, the less likely others will doubt it. He didn't even go to the set! Just watch, he will definitely win the trophy this time.
is yours."
Qingjiuru raised his hand and pressed his temple. His eyes fell on his naked upper body and baggy gray pajamas, and his thoughts seemed to be swimming in his mind.
Even though he had been soaked in alcohol for many years, the calories seemed to be particularly kind to him; his body was still tight, strong, thin and slender - he just suspected that his hearing was damaged.
"His movie was released." Qingjiuru murmured, "I have seen it. He is the starring role."
"That's all an illusion," the agent said with feverish enthusiasm: "They found a guy who looks like Tony to play the role!"
"...You started drinking in the morning too?"
"No, it makes sense for them to do this. First of all, think about it, what is the difference in cost between hiring Tony and hiring a stand-in?"
Kiyokuru stared at the reflective screen of his mobile phone, wondering for a moment whether he was walking in a drunken dream. The person in that movie was not Tony Slade himself - this statement made him want to laugh; he even said
After thinking about it, I realized that I was indeed not recording the show today.
But his agent, almost with a kind of fanaticism, explained to him for a full fifteen minutes why the big-budget movie replaced the leading actor with a stuntman, what the crew's purpose was, and how Tony Slade himself was involved in the film.
Who fell into this scam... If Qingjiuru hadn't interrupted him, it seems that the manager could have continued talking for another hour.
"The counselor is here," Kiyokuru said in a matter-of-fact tone, "I'll call you later."
"No problem, I'll send you a few links," the agent said. "There are leaked videos of fans visiting the class, analysis articles, evidence chains, and several similar incidents in the past. This kind of scam is likely to be related to foreign spies.
There are relationships--"
Qingjiureu pressed hang up.
The soft, muted doorbell ring floated once again in the rain-like skylight. In the cold room, which was set to 64°F all year round, it sank to the wooden floor and disappeared into the thick carpet.
He picked up a wrinkled pullover sweater from the floor next to the sofa and put it on as he walked; when he opened the door, the youngest actor was barely decent - at least receiving female visitors and not counting
excuse me.
For Qingjiure, counselors come and go like water. It doesn't matter who they are or what they say to him, and there is almost no difference. You see, human beings in the world are born in various shapes.
, he happened to be a waning moon. He could not imagine what it would be like to live an active and healthy life; he was born with that piece missing.
But Qingjiuru still never stopped being a consultant.
He liked the time when he was alone in a room with the counselor, no matter who he was. He listened to his own voice murmuring, and when the counselor looked at him, he was also quietly coming from a very far away place.
Observe the counselor's expression carefully.
This is the time when he is closest to another human being, but also when he is farthest and most alienated.
He settled down with this consultant and maintained it for several years. It was not because of the effect; he just liked the other person's last name a little bit, although it was as tacky as sugar water, round and lovable, weak and weak.
The counselor sat down with him in the usual position, a few steps away. Love had developed the ability to ignore the strong smell of alcohol in the air.
"Have you contacted anyone today?" She asked in a gentle manner like an eldest sister.
On the day of psychological consultation, before starting the consultation, Qingjiuru needed to pick out a relatively important person around him and talk to the person intently for a while - this was his "homework".
If it weren't for his homework, he wouldn't have listened to crazy things early in the morning.
"... As long as you use your brain and logic, you will know that it is completely impossible." He leaned lazily on the sofa, picked up the half glass of Bellini, and took a swaggering sip - he insisted on saying this
It was peach juice, so Love pretended it was.
Putting down the cup, he pinched his index finger and thumb and made a sucking gesture to his lips, a hint that everyone understood.
"I'm afraid that guy is flying higher than the Empire State Building now, right? When he comes down, he will probably die of shame."
Coincidentally, at this moment, the mobile phone on the coffee table rang five or six text message alerts in succession, all of which were from my agent.
"Look," the counselor encouraged, "I'm curious whether what he said is true."
"This is not something you should say," Qingjiuru almost laughed, picked up the phone, and casually scrolled through the text messages.
Unexpectedly, the manager's words were not just his paranoid imagination; there were actually countless videos, discussion threads, and explanations circulating on the Internet... He stared at his phone, which was a bit unexpected for a moment.
One thing that was originally clear and irrefutable has become ambiguous in videos, texts and data one after another. More and more replies and discussions seem to be hammering on it, gradually turning it away.
Twisted into another shape.
After throwing the phone back, Qingjiuru drank the cocktail in one gulp and sat back on the sofa.
"You look a little unhappy." Raph observed him and said.
"No."
"Think about how much I charge you per hour," Love said, half-jokingly. "Don't make it easy for me."
Qingjiure let out a long breath. He is the type of person who is very suitable for alcohol; he can feel that his eyes are moist and clear, his body is light and warm, and his thoughts are gone, and they can be heard in the form of sounds from his throat at any time.
flow out.
"Do you believe it?" Raph still asked gently.
Qingjiuru sneered from his nose.
"No one knows his acting ability better than me." He felt that he needed to explain this fact, which was absurd enough in itself. "The feeling I have now... is like being forced to watch a top-notch show.
It’s a drama that doesn’t even have a round story.”
He frowned. "It's as if my aesthetics have been insulted, no - polluted."
"What does it mean to be contaminated?" Raph leaned forward slightly.
Qingjiu stayed silent for a while.
"Afraid that you will become...one of the people who believe this conclusion, right?"
"No," he waved his hand slightly, "that's impossible."
Love sat up straight again. "I don't know much about your industry... When you're ready, we might as well talk about it in detail."
"This is not a question of ignorance, this is the most basic logical question." Qingjiuru couldn't explain why he was a little irritable.
"No matter what the truth is, isn't this the best for you?" Love seemed to have a lot to say today, and said very steadily, "Tony Slade is your biggest opponent this time. With such a
Rumors, the possibility of him defeating you will be smaller..."
Qingjiureu glanced at her.
"Of course, you won't be secretly happy about such a thing." Love said to herself: "Your utilitarianism is very weak, because you take yourself very lightly and don't care."
Qing Jiuliu thought about how much gin was left in the bottle behind the bar.
There was silence in the living room for a while, and then Raph suddenly asked: "When was the last time you left the house or came into close contact with someone?"
I'm a little tired of writing the main text, so let's do a side story to change the taste! Although the selection of the side story is a bit random... As far as I know, I don't look back at the explosion boss's heart seems to be the puppet master? The side story is clearly written
If you stay for a long time, it’s not the right product... But all in all, I hope I can use this meager effort to express my gratitude to you for your ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah ah love.
Today's extra chapter is (Part 1), but I don't know what state I will be in tomorrow, whether it is suitable for me to write the main text or (Part 2). Anyway, I can write whatever I can...
I keep getting sidetracked. When will I reach the end? I’m worried.
