"Why ?" Averie asked, sipping green tea.
In front of him was Director Groux, who had co to et him as discussed.
Director Groux tapped on the sturdy table of the cafe.
"I saw Binsfeld’s Seven Princes of Hell. It was marvellous to witness one of the seven sins so overwhelmingly present in the eyes of a single man."
Although they were in a public place, most people didn’t bother the two.
"But I want sothing opposite of that," the director continued. "I want you to represent my vision through your vivid expressions. I want your role to embody the artistic the of the movie."
The director genuinely believed that Averie could do it.
He thought that the crazed actor that he needed, that he had found absent so far, was right in front of him.
"I couldn’t find an actress who could act the way I wanted them to."
"What do you an?"
"They, um," he hesitated. "It felt like they were acting, and that won’t work for this film. They needed to live it, not act it."
"That’s a high expectation."
"I couldn’t find anyone who could do it, and those I believed could do it, did not want to do it."
"Then, you ca up with the brilliant idea to dress as a lady?"
"I want soone great at acting, but not soone whose face is well known. No other male actor ca to mind."
’Is that a complint?’ Averie wondered. ’Couldn’t be anything else.’
"I want the audience to feel that the enigmatic figure on the screen indeed is a mysterious girl taking them along on a mysterious journey."
With the cinders of hope burning brighter than ever in his eyes, the director looked at the actor he wanted to hire.
Averie looked into his eyes, put down his cup, and turned towards the girl sitting beside him.
"I will accept the role."
***
Half a month later, Averie and his team departed for London.
’It’s a cold place.’
That was Averie’s judgnt.
It wasn’t that cold, but there was a certain chill to the look of the place. It was dreary and dark.
It felt like Averie was watching an old dying warhorse.
"It’s not your day yet..." Hyerin sang, watching the scenery through the window of the cab. "Sorry, dear, it’s not your day."
The cab took them through an imperial-looking street.
It stopped at a building called Busy Hall. Over the glass entrance hung giant letters: CBC.
"I expected an older building," Averie muttered.
"They renovated it," the cabbie answered. "After the fires in ’92, they renovated the area."
Averie humd and stepped out.
Waiting for him was a man in his thirties.
"This way, please."
He led the group of three inside the building.
"Let’s take the lift."
It was on the seventh floor that they disembarked the elevator.
The looks that Averie got in the lobby were pretty similar to the ones he got at the airport.
"Do they know here?" he asked out of curiosity.
"Hmm?" The man looked back at him. "Ah, yes. Binsfeld’s Seven Princes of Hell is doing quite well. It’s popular enough that even my niece knows about it."
He continued talking about his niece, which Averie found cumberso.
’Who cares about your niece, my good man?’
Once in the eting room, Min-Ha relaxed in one of the chairs. Her attention had been on her phone since they arrived.
"What are you doing?" Averie asked.
She looked up. "Making arrangents."
"What arrangents?"
"We will have to get a place and all that if you accept the job, right?"
Averie’s eyes narrowed. "Isn’t that soone else’s job?"
His sharp glare was directed at the back of Hyerin’s head.
"Leave her be. She has to take care of negotiations, and she did make most of the inquiries before coming here."
"Then?"
"It’s never easy. These tasks require too much ti and effort, and there’s always sothing new that rears its head. Honestly, soone like you should have a personal assistant."
Averie ignored everything she said and walked towards the glass window overlooking the intricate net of buildings.
’From the imperial center to a modern city, this place has co a long way.’
Averie could rember the London of his ti.
It was a cold place back then as well, but at least it felt more human.
’This used to be the center of music and stardom. Look at it now. It feels like an old castle in disrepair.’
He could vividly imagine the stone-cold floors of the train station. Marked with coal and chimney soot, there would always be that one man from the north of the country whom he could never distinguish from a shoeshiner.
’Sweet mories.’
The door to the room opened, and Averie’s daydream ended.
It didn’t take Hyerin long to negotiate a great contract. The fee was trendous.
"Money is nice."
Averie shed a tear.
"Money is good."
He shed another tear.
"Money is great."
He was being paid four tis the amount he made with BSPH.
Unlike her friend, Hyerin was happy that the contract did not contain any scummy clauses.
"Where to now?"
They traveled to a decent hotel and booked three rooms.
"Can we afford this kind of arrangent?"
"We will have to rent an apartnt. But for now, this will have to do."
They spent the next week visiting apartnts that Hyerin had already researched.
"Why do I have to do this, too?" Averie complained.
"You are going to live there too, you know?"
They found an apartnt in a remote area that was to their liking.
The rent was cheap. Everything was running smoothly. Water wasn’t an issue. Electricity seed fine. Neighbors were quiet.
In fact, there didn’t seem to be any neighbors.
"Wait, is this an abandoned building?" Averie realized.
"What? No," Hyerin said, her voice genuine.
"It was being renovated, but then, they abandoned work for a while and haven’t picked it up since."
"That’s what’s called an abandoned building, Moron!" He pinched her cheeks. "Why did you bring us to a place like this?"
"We can’t afford anything else," she replied through the pain. "Have you seen the prices in London?"
"What now—"
Averie suddenly and frantically looked around.
"What was that?" Hyerin looked scared. "It ca from downstairs."
"It sounded like Min-Ha’s screech."
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