CHAPTER 169: CRUELTY OF FATE

It was the most widely aired project Averie had worked on, and the market they were targeting this time was also a different one.

’Wide reach is good. It makes for a good portfolio.’

Hyerin knew not to expect too much. The nature of the project itself dictated that it was not for everyone.

’This sort of comedy works only with adults.’

She was aware of that. Even Ari wasn’t as impressed with the dry deliveries.

’She did like everything else, though.’

She looked at some of the early comments under a post in a CBC forum.

- Who’s the comedian?

- Isn’t he an actor?

- What’s the difference?

- The trailer made me think it would be exciting... Where are the cars?

- It’s the first episode, my dude. Patience.

- Isn’t this the guy from BSPHS?

- What’s that?

Even though the response was fairly positive, it was also slow.

’It’s early, but CottonPop gave it an 8.2.’

It was a good start for a mockumentary.

’These things are always hit or miss.’

She diverted her attention to the AQuinn forums, where some early birds seemed to be chirping.

- I liked it.

- It was kinda boring.

- The trailer lied to us.

- Is this a documentary? I thought it was a drama.

- My dad liked it. It’s one of those shows that’s not for everyone.

- Old people seemed to like it. My grandpa loved it.

- I think it was nice. But this sort of thing should be a comedian’s dream. Why is an actor doing this?

’As expected, dramas are definitely different when compared to documentaries.’

The common sentiment was that it was a show for the older generation, those who could patiently sit and watch the most mundane stuff.

Hyerin didn’t think they were wrong.

Her parents had messaged her, saying how they loved it. Ari had mentioned that her grandmother also liked it, even though it was a little edgy at times.

In Hyerin’s eyes, the response was fairly average.

She recalled how the fanbase had reacted when the trailer had first dropped.

They were thanking the gods. Their actor had given them something new to watch.

’Were they expecting BSPH 2.0?’

It was frustrating for her.

’It’s difficult to find captivating scripts.’

She had realized that her friend was a different kind of actor.

’He needs special scripts. The average stuff will always be disappointing for him.’

It was a little arrogant to think this way about an actor who had only begun his journey a year ago, but she truly believed that only scripts that could be deemed special should be graced with his touch.

In that sense, Lady Ethereal wasn’t far off.

’He is chasing artistic films, but commercial works suit him more.’

***

Julia came out of her room.

She threw a glance at her neighbour’s door before taking the stairs.

The cruise ship Osteria was large, although not as large as some of the behemoths of its kind.

It housed, including the crew, a total of six thousand passengers.

It offered several amenities, which included a spa, a boutique, a shopping mall, a theater, an opera, and other entertainment facilities.

At the stern, there was a large pool, which for the most part was kept classy.

In such a large place, it was not impossible to get lost.

And Julia, who was searching the restaurant, hoped that was the case with her husband.

But in her heart, she knew what was going on.

’Whose bed are you warming this time, Jonathan?’

She knew it was someone younger. Someone ’fresher.’

It was disgusting to even think about.

She looked through the glass doors of the stores that were closing, but he was nowhere to be found.

After about half an hour, she finally gave up.

With a bottle of rum in hand, she sat herself on a recliner on the stern of the deck.

Downing one glass after another, she chatted with her daughter on the phone.

- Can I call?

She cleared her throat, but didn’t think she had it in her to talk.

- Sorry, dear. Signal’s weak here.

It didn’t convince her daughter.

- You are not fighting with Dad, are you?

Julia scoffed.

’How could we fight, when I don’t even know where he is?’

- No, we are not fighting.

She put down her phone and took a few more swigs of the rum.

The sweet taste lingered on her tongue.

She thought about it for a minute and typed a message she had always wanted to scream into the void.

I can’t do this anymore.

She wanted to send it, if not to her daughter then to her mother.

Inebriated, it didn’t seem that difficult.

She could say whatever she wanted, yet she felt sad that this was the only thing she wanted to say.

’I can’t do this anymore.’

Just the thought of saying it out loud felt cathartic.

There was strength in words, and she truly felt it in that moment.

In the salty breeze, she cleared her head, her thumb hovering over the send button.

But she held back, with the single thought of protecting her daughter from all the ugliness that would follow.

- Talk to you tomorrow. Be nice to grandma and grandpa.

She held her face in her hands, recalling the ridiculous program she had just watched.

’That actor would probably never find himself in something like this.’

She envied him.

He didn’t seem to care about what he could and could not say. Even on television, he did some questionable things.

’Was I like that in college?’

She poured herself one more glass, but before she could down the shot, her gaze fell on a lone man by the guardrails in the distance.

His auburn hair and amber eyes seemed to burn in the cold of the night.

He seemed to be on his phone, texting with somebody.

She wasn’t wrong.

Averie had received a text from Yoko.

- I will be joining you at Le Havre.

One of his eyebrows rose.

- Aboard the ship?

- Yes.

’What’s happening here? Why is she in France? Why is she joining us?’

He wondered if it was a coincidence, but it couldn’t be anything else.

’Tickets for cruises don’t grow on trees. She must have planned beforehand.’

While typing, his phone rang.

He picked up the call.

"I saw you. You were on TV."

A smile crept up Averie’s moonlit face.

"It’s nice to finally hear from you, Director Groux."

"I have been busy."

"I don’t doubt it."

"Yes... It was interesting to see your show. It is novel, undoubtedly unpredictable."

In the silence, Averie could hear the whispers carried over by the wind.

"We will end preproduction soon."

"It took long."

’So, it begins.’

"Did you lose weight?"

"Yes." He looked at his thin forearm. "I think I lost 10 kgs at least."

It was a large number for someone who did not weigh much to begin with.

"Are you fine?"

"Recently, I have been feeling lightheaded, but that will come to pass soon."

Silence lingered in the air.

The voice from the other end suddenly became solemn. "Please don’t take offense; I am asking for the sake of clarity. Are you certain you can assume both roles?"

"I want to play both roles."

Something inside of him was telling him to.

’Such a challenge does not come every day.’

"One more thing, Monsieur Auclair."

"Yes?"

"If you wish to seek Monsieur Chaoxiang Cao’s assistance, I would advise you to make haste."

The good actor’s grip on the phone tightened.

The silent sea, reflecting the moonlight faithfully, seemed to mock him.

"How long do you suppose he has?"

"You should ask him. Should I send you his number?"

"I would be thankful if you did."

The call ended, and within a minute, he received a text from the French director.

Averie called the number he had sent.

"Hello?"

A feeble voice picked up. Averie pitied it.

"This is Averie Quinn Auclair speaking."

After a brief silence, the old man replied, "Ah, Mr. Actor."

The man sounded a bit off, as if he were medicated.

"Yes, sir. It’s me."

"How nice to hear from you..."

"Yeah."

The wind seemed to blow a fishy smell at him, yet he managed his expression well.

He wondered if it came to him naturally, and he wondered if it should come to him naturally.

’Should an actor always act?’

"I was just talking with the director. He mentioned you, and, well, I thought I should inquire about your health."

"I am hanging on still," the man said between heavy breaths. "I am still waiting for that show of yours."

There was a laugh or a cough; Averie couldn’t recognize exactly what.

"It aired today," he said.

It sounded so forlorn, so wispy.

"I’ll call back another time."

"Yes, yes..."

The call ended.

’I thought you would at least get to see my portrayal capable of rivalling that painting of yours.’

His palms sank deeper into the wood of the guardrail.

He felt the cold creep up his arm.

Some things were beyond his control.

He had always known that. He had always accepted that.

But even then, on such a cold night, he could not help but think that fate was a little too cruel, a little too strange.