Chapter 8: Stalking Suspicions
Chapter 8: Stalking Suspicions
Renly headed towards table fourteen, with a smile on his face, and the familiar words came out reflexively, "Good evening..." But upon seeing Tom and Steven in front of him - faces he had just met at the theater three hours ago, the coincidence was too unexpected. Renly's words stuttered slightly, and there was a hint of playfulness and speculation in his smile. Questions filled his mind, but he still habitually finished his sentence, "Can I help you with anything?"
Steven was looking down at the menu, while Tom was cheerfully saying, "The food here isn't the most famous, didn't Woody make that clear when he recommended it?" Their intimate and casual attitude showed no signs of the intense argument they had during the audition earlier.
Upon hearing the waiter's greeting, Tom looked up and was about to speak, but the words froze on his lips. Clearly, he hadn't anticipated such an unexpected encounter either. For a moment, Tom didn't know what to say, but his smile widened before any words came out.
"A plate of truffle cream pasta... and..." Steven didn't notice Tom's momentary pause as he looked up from the menu to place their order. Then he also saw Renly standing in front of them, and the rest of his order disappeared mid-sentence. "Why are you here?" Steven reflexively questioned, his expression turning serious, eyebrows furrowing tightly. "You must know that your behavior isn't beneficial to the audition, let alone stalking, which is never encouraged."
Stalking?
Given Steven's influential position in the industry, he had naturally encountered numerous instances of being followed by fans. Actors going to extreme lengths to secure roles was also common. So he wasn't flustered, but rather slammed the menu onto the table and rebuked loudly.
Renly didn't get angry but instead smiled, tucking the menu back into his apron. "Mr. Spielberg, I think you've misunderstood. This is where I work. If you're dissatisfied with my service, please complain to my immediate supervisor." His tone was polite yet carried a hint of mockery, especially given the difference in their postures - one standing, the other seated, emphasizing Renly's height advantage.
Watching Steven's gradually stiffening expression, Renly gestured towards the bar behind him politely, saying, "Do you need me to inform the manager?"
"Hahaha!" Tom didn't give Steven any face at all, laughing outright, breaking the brief deadlock. Then he patted Steven's shoulder forcefully, though it was unclear whether it was meant to console or taunt. "No, no need," Tom waved off Renly's offer, denying the suggestion, "We just want to find a place for dinner. Woody Allen recommended this bar, saying there are different performances every night?"
Steven, sitting beside him, looked displeased. Having navigated Hollywood for over twenty years, Steven was a top heavyweight. He had expected Renly's appearance to be related to this afternoon's audition - the one that had caused the dispute between him and Tom. But he hadn't expected this misunderstanding. It was embarrassing.
However, Renly didn't continue focusing on Steven but turned to Tom, smoothly making introductions. "Tonight, there's a folk music performance. Jason Mraz will have a thirty-minute set, and a local independent folk singer from Harlem will be opening. The show starts in..." Renly glanced at the clock on the stage, "twenty-five minutes."
"Wow, sounds good," Tom ignored Steven completely, exclaiming to himself. "So, what do you recommend for dinner? I know there are countless delicacies in the bars and restaurants of Greenwich Village, but for us out-of-towners, we're clueless."
Tom's witty humor seemed to constantly poke fun at Steven. Even Renly's peripheral vision could see Steven's face darkening, glaring at Tom, though Tom paid no mind, finding it quite amusing.
"It depends on your preferences," Renly pretended not to notice anything and continued, "If you want to focus solely on the performance, I would recommend some simple dishes like our chef Jack's submarine sandwich. It's the best in all of New York. Pair it with some French fries and a Munich dark beer, and the evening will be delightful."
Renly's lively and vivid description brought a satisfied smile to Tom's face. But Steven sitting beside him still looked stiff. "But if you don't mind dining while watching the performance, then the truffle cream pasta is a good choice. I heard our ordered French black truffles arrived this morning." Steven raised his head, meeting Renly's polite and gentle smile. Clearly, this was directed at him—
This made Steven somewhat embarrassed. Despite his status in the industry, he found himself fretting over trivial matters, even less composed than a newcomer actor.
"Additionally, today's chef's recommendation is red wine-braised lamb chops. Jack told me he's feeling particularly good today." Renly's cheerful introduction brought a smile to people's faces and stirred their appetites.
Tom chuckled, "Steven, what do you say?"
At this time, Steven gradually returned to normal, after all, he was still old enough, "Please give me a creamy truffle pasta." There was a little more politeness and respect in the words, which could be regarded as an indirect apology to Renly.
"Then I'll make lamb chops in red wine." Tom immediately made a decision, handing the menu on the table to Renly, "Also, please pick a bottle of red wine to match, thank you." Seeing Renly paused slightly, Tom added an additional explanation, "We believe in your choice, after all, what you just introduced determines our dinner menu."
Renly bowed slightly politely, "I'll go through the recommendations of professionals." This humor made Tom laugh heartily, and even the corners of Steven's mouth couldn't help but relax slightly.
After a while, Renly brought the red wine, and he took the lead in handing the red wine bottle to Steven.
Steven looked carefully at the label of the red wine, and raised the tail of his eyebrows slightly, unexpectedly, the choice of Renly was eye-catching - Barolo, this is a red wine from Italy, known by many as the greatest red wine in Italy, because of the strong tannins, Barolo needs to be served with the same food, especially the heavy meat and pasta are the most suitable, the alcohol and food will complement each other, it is a match made in heaven.
Generally speaking, in a high-end restaurant, the choice of red wine is the most test of a person's quality and self-cultivation, the more upper-class society values, different occasions, different dishes, different objects, different atmospheres, the choice will be different. The bottle of red wine chosen by Renly is moderately priced, properly functional, and impeccable.
This really made Steven look at Renly with admiration.
Tom leaned over, took a closer look, and his eyes showed a light of appreciation, and he raised his head to look at Renly, "Excellent choice."
Renly felt that it was nothing, the life of this life, from childhood to adulthood, was to receive aristocratic elite education, and red wine was only the most basic link. Choosing a wine is not a difficult task for him. However, Renly still accepted the compliment and smiled, "I hope you like it."
Then, Renly took the red wine again, uncorked the bottle on the spot, waited for Steven to taste it, nodded in confirmation, and after he filled the red wine for the two guests, he turned around and left.
Looking at Renly's back as he left, Steven thought thoughtfully. Because of the character of Eugene, he himself was born in the middle class, and it can even be said that he was an elite class, and this elegance precipitated in his bones is a very important part of the role, in comparison, Joseph lacks this temperament.
Turning his head, Steven saw Tom's smug smile, "And now? What do you think now?" The meaning of the words is: How about Renly playing Eugene?
At this point, Steven had gradually regained his composure. After all, he was experienced enough. "I'll stick to my original opinion. Who knows if the bartender helped him pick this wine." Tom knew Steven's words were a stretch, not just about the wine, but also about Renly's professionalism and composure throughout the process. That kind of demeanor was irreplaceable, but Tom wisely didn't push further, just shrugged it off.
Steven picked up his wine glass and took another sip, admitting that a bit of alcohol did help one relax after a busy day.
As the night grew darker, the attendance at the bar increased rapidly, reaching almost full capacity for a Thursday night, which was quite rare.
The bar's live performances were indeed as famous as rumored. The performers weren't just regular bar singers but genuine music enthusiasts, their professionalism rivaling that of performers in arenas with thousands of spectators. Even the opening act received enthusiastic applause, and it was no wonder that even a renowned singer like Jason was willing to perform here.
The atmosphere in the bar grew increasingly lively, with the audience completely immersed in the performances. As time passed, anticipation for Jason's appearance grew stronger, and the night became more vibrant with each passing moment.
However, backstage at the bar was in chaos. Renly had just placed the beer cups he had collected into the washing basin when he heard urgent shouts. "Help!" Turning around, he saw Neil's sweating face in a panic. "Renly, help, where have you been? We've been looking for you all over the bar." Before Renly could reply, Neil dragged him out, continuing to shout urgently, "Help, we need you! I mean, right now, immediately!"