"Flying straight down three thousand feet, it seems like the Milky Way falling from the ninth heaven."
These lines from Li Bai's seven-character quatrain describe the magnificent and tumultuous scene of a waterfall. At this mont, the explosion of flashbulbs truly showcased the grandeur and magnificence of these verses to Renly. The overwhelming burst of light exploded before him without warning, plunging him into darkness in an instant—from extre brightness to extre darkness in the blink of an eye. In that mont of confusion, Renly felt as if he had returned to the coffin where he was once "buried alive."
The bright light, like embroidery needles as fine as cow hair, pricked his eyes, causing a faint pain. Without thinking, purely by reflex, Renly raised his right hand, gently touching the contour of his brow, trying to shield his eyes from the blinding light and alleviate the pain. He could feel the slightly warm heat from the flash on the back of his hand, vividly presenting the intensity of the light.
Caught off guard and tense for a mont, he quickly turned his anxiety into a smile.
Renly found this sowhat absurd and pretentious. He finally understood why celebrities either looked down or covered their faces when caught in the paparazzi's caras, and why they always carried sunglasses—maintaining an image was one thing, but protecting their eyes and avoiding the flash was the real purpose.
Unconsciously, he also raised his right hand to shield his eyes. At this mont, he too beca one of those disheveled celebrities—or posers—he had seen on computer screens. Suddenly, Renly didn't feel so nervous anymore.
Daisy Lucas felt her long-dormant girlhood heart about to burst. Watching Renly awkwardly cover his eyes, a smile slowly spreading on his lips, playful yet a bit unruly, elegant yet slightly youthful, calm yet a bit flustered, the montary beauty made her heart skip a beat.
During the last "Vanity Fair" interview with the "The Pacific" cast, Daisy had been deeply impressed by Renly, mainly due to his wit and sharpness during the interview. Later, while selecting photos for the interview article, Daisy noticed that the photos didn't seem to capture Renly's spirit. She couldn't pinpoint why—not that Renly wasn't photogenic, but that he left a deeper impression in person.
Today, Daisy finally understood why—it was those eyes, that smile, the blend of boyish and manly charm in his gaze. Photos simply couldn't capture that. The charisma in his gestures made Daisy's heart tremble slightly, and she couldn't help but frantically press the shutter—even though she knew it was futile, that she couldn't freeze ti on film, the fireworks in her mind wouldn't stop, like the July Fourth fireworks display.
Unconsciously, Daisy took a step forward, realizing her waist was already pressed against the railing and she couldn't move further. Her upper body leaned forward slightly, trying hard to capture this mont on film. "Renly..." The call stuck in her throat, not yet voiced, when a thunderous shout ca from nearby. Daisy turned towards the sound—it was Bradley Adams from "The New York Tis."
"Renly! Renly Hall! Renly!" Urgent and clear, excited and fervent.
All at once, people's attention turned to Bradley. Most didn't understand why he was calling out such an unfamiliar na, and many started whispering, "Who is that?"
The Emmy nominations alone covered more than forty categories, with over 450 nominees. Even in the main acting categories, there were a hundred nominees—due to the guest actor categories. Rembering all the nas wasn't easy, let alone matching nas to faces.
Renly Hall, both the na and face, were still unfamiliar to most.
But now, among the gathered stars, with Tina Fey and Bryan Cranston on the red carpet, a reporter singled out an unknown na. It was truly... earth-shattering; and when people realized the shouting reporter was from "The New York Tis," the commotion grew. The award ceremony hadn't even begun, and already there was fresh gossip.
Renly lowered his hand, the flashbulbs still flickering but now scattered, less blinding. He breathed a slight sigh of relief and looked towards the sound, spotting a stranger's face—all reporters' faces were unfamiliar, to be accurate.
Glancing around, he noticed many actors standing beside the red carpet, being interviewed by reporters. It seed this was the interview area. So, Renly stepped forward.
The path only allowed four people through at a ti, so in two steps he was there. Bradley imdiately felt a sense of pressure and had to slightly lift his head, raising the recorder, "How does it feel to attend the Emmys for the first ti?"
A standard question, almost every newcor would be asked, "So many people?" Renly raised his tone, looking puzzled, "It reminds of Manhattan's rush hour traffic."
Bradley couldn't help but laugh, an amusing comparison. "So, as one of them, how do you feel?"
"I'm trying to imagine this as Coachella; it's much better than being stuck in the traffic." Renly shrugged, playfully teasing.
Not just Bradley, but the surrounding reporters couldn't help but chuckle. "So, you're not nervous at all?" Bradley pressed on.
Renly thought for a mont, nodding slightly, "Actually, a little. I'm worried that after walking the red carpet, no one will notice , and I'll pass through like a ghost. Later, I'll tell my friends, 'Hey, I went to the Emmys,' and no one will believe . I'm considering taking a photo with Jon Hamm or Matthew Fox to add credibility." Pausing slightly, Renly added, "But now, I'm relieved."
Once again, Renly's self-deprecating humor and wit successfully made the surrounding reporters burst into laughter.
From afar, Daisy could see the reporters around Renly in a relaxed and laughing mood, feeling a bit distressed. She knew better than anyone how enjoyable it was to interview Renly, and the process of outwitting each other was delightful, like treasure hunting.
Looking around, Daisy made a decisive choice—heading towards Bradley's direction, "Excuse , please." She began overcoming obstacles, trying to get closer, but then realized it wasn't easy as she spotted many colleagues.
"So, you're not worried about tonight's awards? As the first-ti nominee for Best Actor in a Miniseries or TV Movie, do you have any special feelings?" Bradley's question awakened the surrounding reporters' mories. They gradually recognized the young man before them—who had created a small miracle by being nominated for an Emmy at the age of twenty, undoubtedly the biggest surprise on this year's list.
Instantly, the questions beca concentrated, "How do you see your chances of winning tonight?" "Are you excited about your first nomination?" "As the only acting nominee from your cast, did the other actors say anything?"...
The long and short microphones beca agitated, and Renly felt a bit flustered. Having never seen such a scene in both his lives, he didn't retreat but instead chuckled, "Now, I finally feel like a star. You know, watching award shows on TV, you always imagine yourself being one of them."
This joke made everyone laugh lightly again, and Renly continued, "Regarding the nomination, I an, of course, I want to win. It's a high honor, right?" His candid and direct response, sincere and honest, imdiately won the reporters' favor—no false modesty, no roundabout diplomacy, his words exuded confidence without arrogant aggression, making people want to applaud—much more interesting than the typical red carpet interviews.
"But, just like the prom queen and king selection, we all know there can only be one winner. Being nominated ans I'm handso enough and popular enough. I think I'll enjoy the halo of the nomination and quietly wait for a miracle to happen." Renly's elegant London accent lightly lifted, with a hint of mischief and wisdom.
Effortlessly, he made the reporters laugh again. Bradley even felt like applauding Renly—such poised and effortless interview style, without losing personal charm, even Hollywood veterans might not manage it, and this was just Renly's first red carpet. Truly impressive.
"Sorry, please make way." Turning around, they saw Kristen Wiig in an elegant silver evening gown, making a funny face, bending over as if mimicking a man's awkward situation after an erection, winking at Renly, "I need to... um... cool down." She fanned her face with her hands, trying to cool down her blushing cheeks.
Such a playful action was obviously teasing Renly, implying he was "too hot." This simple gesture made the reporters burst into laughter.
Daisy, stuck in the crowd, felt frustrated and annoyed, "What's going on? What's going on again? Why is everyone moving towards the sa direction? Isn't there any other focus on the red carpet?"
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