Freelancers

Eduard Grau stood before the viewfinder, casting a distracted glance and nonchalantly said, "It's fine."

Àlex Villagrasa had been working diligently for forty-five minutes to achieve this lighting effect. Seeing Eduard's dismissive response, he instantly flung the microphone sponge he was holding in annoyance. "You fool! If you continue to daydream, I'll kick your ass directly! Can you see the facial expressions clearly after the lighter is lit? "

As per the design, after awakening in the coffin, Paul was supposed to use a lighter as his first light source. Generally speaking, the illumination range of a lighter is quite limited, especially in absolute darkness. However, this was a film shoot. Inadequate lighting wouldn't only affect the viewing experience but also hinder the actors' performances. "Buried" wasn't attempting to recreate a sense of reality like "The Blair Witch Project". It required sufficient light to convey the details of the performances.

Therefore, Àlex, responsible for visual effects, had authority over both sound and lighting. He was adjusting the flame size of the lighter, testing the brightness of the light source, and using hidden reflectors to concentrate the light. Eduard, as the cinematographer, had to assess the effects from a cinematographic perspective.

Eduard withdrew his gaze, focusing on the viewfinder, and then switched between two different angles, showcasing his professionalism. "It's fine. However, during the close-up shots, the angle of the reflector needs to be adjusted. Shoot from the side, so the lens can capture the reflector."

Àlex also approached the viewfinder, changed the angle to confirm, and finally understood. Standing straight, he saw Eduard's line of sight drifting again, feeling somewhat helpless. "Why bother? We're just freelancers, cooperating on a single project. He's British; he probably won't come to Spain to shoot in the future. We won't cross paths again."

Not far away, Renly sat quietly on a stack of wood, earnestly reading the script. His peculiar reading habits were quite unusual. He neither memorized lines nor skimmed through the plot. His gaze remained fixed on a page of the script. At a glance, it seemed like he was daydreaming and not reading at all. However, upon closer inspection, one could notice that he was repeatedly reading the same passage and then sinking into contemplation, as if engaged in an internal struggle.

To put it positively, he was engrossed; negatively, he was neurotic.

"You know, is he just putting on airs or does he actually have some talent?" Eduard couldn't hold back in the end, lowering his voice to discuss with Àlex. But before Àlex could reply, Eduard continued directly, "I'm certain it's all pretense. He looks like he might have graduated from high school at most. How could he possibly have any skill? I really wonder what's wrong with Rodrigo. How could he select an actor like this? Could it be that he slept with Rodrigo?"

Faced with Eduard's provocation, Àlex knew that he was still hung up on the embarrassment from earlier. Eduard was referring to the curly-haired young man from before.

In fact, Eduard's jest wasn't a big deal in itself. Among men, such face-to-face teasing and banter were commonplace, with countless instances of even harsher and uglier remarks that wouldn't damage relationships. They might even become fodder for conversation. However, speaking ill behind someone's back and getting caught red-handed can be quite ugly and embarrassing, making one feel quite embarrassed and ashamed.

No one had anticipated that Renly's Spanish would be so good, akin to using Chinese to curse someone abroad and suddenly realizing that the other party speaks Chinese fluently. That would indeed be awkward.

Eduard was getting somewhat annoyed and defensive, but Àlex didn't want to get entangled in this mess. "Buried" had a total of only eight crew members: a cinematographer, a special effects artist, an assistant director, a makeup artist, a production assistant, in addition to a director, a screenwriter, and an actor. Just a mere eight individuals. Apart from the three core creators, Àlex, Eduard, and the others were mere mercenaries. They weren't well-known professionals but rather self-taught outsiders.

As he said, they were hired to film "Buried", and after the shoot, they would each go their separate ways. There was no need to fuss over it. "We'll know the outcome as soon as we start shooting, won't we? Is he just a showpiece, or is he a precious antique?" Àlex shrugged, carelessly dismissive.

In all honesty, setting aside Eduard's personal grievances, Àlex was also curious about the origins of this Renly Hall.

Objectively speaking, Renly didn't look like a high school student at all. With his sideburns, neatly trimmed stubble added a touch of vicissitude and maturity. His unattended chestnut-colored curls appeared somewhat disheveled, seemingly unwashed for a day or two, a little oily and unkempt. The only discordant feature was his eyes, bright and vibrant like stars, sparkling with youthful vitality. The momentary radiance in his eyes couldn't possibly belong to a thirty-year-old, but Àlex was willing to believe that he was around twenty-five or twenty-six.

However, even so, portraying the character of Paul Conroy wasn't an easy task.

He didn't seem... there wasn't any aggressiveness about him. Not to say he was bad, but there was a lack of that indomitable spirit that many actors exuded. Of course, the moment he turned Eduard's jest against him was an exception.

After exchanging greetings, he didn't continue to press on or delve into Eduard's wrongdoings. Nor did he seize the momentum to dissolve the awkwardness and bond with them. Instead, he sat alone on the side, engrossed in studying the script. While the crew prepared for the shoot, an hour passed, and he remained sitting there, undisturbed by the atmosphere around him, and without shifting positions. Wasn't this reminiscent of the solitude symptomatic of autism?

Eduard couldn't anticipate what Renly's performance would be like after he got into character or what kind of portrayal he would present. Deep down, he also harbored a hint of expectation.

"Hmph, let's just wait and see." Eduard pursed his lips, wanting to say more, perhaps something cutting, but ultimately refrained. He turned his head, muttered to himself under his breath, and busied himself.

Mónica Alarcón stood in front of Renly, politely waving her hand in an attempt to capture his attention, but it proved unsuccessful. Renly continued to concentrate on the script as if completely oblivious to the presence of someone before him. She had no choice but to call out, "Sir, sir?"

Renly finally lifted his head, his gaze somewhat bewildered as he scanned the area, then gradually adjusted his focus onto Mónica, his gaze revealing a puzzled perplexity. Mónica raised the makeup kit in her hand, "I'm here to do your makeup. We need to conceal that handsome face a bit." She playfully joked.

Renly raised the script in his hand, "I do pay some attention while reading the script, it won't hinder your work." Then, he sat up straight, slightly elevating the script and pulling it farther away. This way, he could expose his face while continuing to read.

Mónica blinked, her joke unexpectedly falling flat. It left her feeling a bit awkward, so she collected herself and began to busy herself, earnestly engaging in the task of applying makeup.

The makeup for Paul Conroy wasn't particularly complex. It wasn't about enhancing beauty but rather approximating a realistic appearance, truly showcasing Renly's original features. Or, to be more precise, it was about creating a disheveled look, portraying Paul as disarrayed and sweaty, even with an oily complexion.

Mónica quickly finished her work. She kindly said, "Done, you can go on set now!"

Renly lowered the hand holding the script. He nodded and made an "ok" gesture toward Mónica, offering her a faint smile. "Thanks for your hard work," he expressed.

That touch of warmth in his smile warmed Mónica's heart. Unconsciously, she responded with a radiant smile, "It's my job. I'm really looking forward to your performance." Mónica spoke positively. However, she hadn't anticipated that Renly's attention would shift back to the script again. He seemed to have no intention of continuing the conversation. This left her feeling awkward, her smile stiffening at the corners of her mouth.

Remaining in place for a few seconds, Mónica realized that Renly had no intention of conversing. Her enthusiasm had collided with an iceberg. She had been standing here for so long, but not only did Renly not return her appreciative gaze, he didn't even lift his head. Awkwardness surged within her. "Best of luck then," Mónica muttered, dropping the words and briskly walking away.

After a distance, Mónica couldn't help but halt her steps again. She turned around and found that Renly was still utterly absorbed in the script, showing no reaction whatsoever. She stamped her foot in frustration before striding away indignantly.

Compared to the crew of "The Pacific", not only was the "Buried" crew smaller in scale, but the order on set was somewhat chaotic. The production assistant was unfamiliar with the business, resulting in an inefficient workflow. The organization and discipline of the mercenaries were also mediocre. Fortunately, this was a small production team with limited personnel and tasks. Otherwise, the situation could have been even harder to imagine.

Completely unaware, in just a short hour, Renly had already become the target of criticism within the crew, offending inadvertently. Even if he became aware of it, he had no time to care. He needed to wholeheartedly immerse himself in the role. He wasn't yet a master of acting, able to switch into performance mode at any moment. Prior to diving into a performance, he needed ample preparation.

"Renly? Renly!" Rodrigo approached, calling three times consecutively without any response. Finally, he had to gesture between Renly's line of sight and the script to grab his attention. Only then did he get a response. "We can start filming."