Deep in the Act: Chapter 25

The first thing in the morning, Zhen Xin received a notice from the production crew asking him to go to a foreign liquor club on Huaihai Road for an interview. He didn’t have any scenes scheduled for that day, but he didn’t want to go. He fussed at Chen Zheng Sen, “They didn’t mention this before. It’s so sudden.”

Chen Zheng Sen was in a hurry to eat and walked briskly ahead. “Last minute notice,” he said, turning back to point at Zhen Xin. “Remember, dance around the edges. Don’t say anything with real substance.”

After so many years in the entertainment industry, Zhen Xin still had that instinct. He took a drag of his cigarette and asked, “Today… is it still that bed scene?”

Chen Zheng Sen walked away quickly. “Don’t think about other people’s scenes. Focus on your interview!”

Zhen Xin couldn’t be bothered to chase after him. He stubbed out his cigarette and walked in the opposite direction. He had only taken two steps when the production assistant called: “Mr. Zhen, have you eaten yet? The car’s downstairs. License plate ends in F42.”

He hung up the phone, cursed under his breath, and obediently took the elevator down. As soon as he got in the car, he heard the driver and the production assistant chatting about Wu Rong. His brows moved slightly. “What’s going on with Wu Rong?”

The two of them laughed it off. “Just chatting, just chatting.”

“Right,” the car started moving, and Zhen Xin stretched his back and leaned against the back seat. “Isn’t he leaving soon?”

“This afternoon,” the driver turned the wheel. “I’m driving him to the airport.”

It took over half an hour to get to Huaihai Road. An unassuming little storefront. The production assistant went in with Zhen Xin. The stylist and lighting crew were already waiting. Both sides quickly got down to business. The person in charge on the other side was a young woman who shook hands with Zhen Xin politely and got straight to the point: “Mr. Zhen, the theme of this film of yours is somewhat taboo. We’ve paired it with a decadent and luxurious makeup look. The whole interview will revolve around same sex desire. Is there anything you’d like to add?”

Zhen Xin was always cooperative and readily said no. They wanted decadent and luxurious, and sure enough, it was. When Zhen Xin came out of the temporary styling room and sat in front of the camera, he was practically a postmodern version of Gatsby. Velvet shirt, zircon ring, his curls teased into chaos with styling gel. To match Fang Chi’s look, he wore a pair of rimless glasses with a gold chain, one side of the chain taken off from his ear and casually draped over his shoulder. When the lights hit him, there was a dazzling reflection.

The female entertainment reporter sat across from him with her microphone. The camera focused, the filming light turned on. “Hello, Mr. Zhen Xin,” she said mechanically while looking at her script. “Long time no see. You’re getting more and more handsome.”

Zhen Xin played along with the courtesy. “Oh no, thank you.”

“Your film, the working title is ‘Entering the Role,’ right? I heard it’s currently being filmed intensively, and the theme is quite unconventional?”

Maybe it was the styling, but Zhen Xin’s speech also had a decadent and luxurious feel to it. “Unconventional? I just think it’s a good film that explores the human heart. If you want to call it unconventional, maybe the theme is a bit sensitive. It’s about gay men.”

“Can you tell us a bit about the specific story?”

“It’s still being filmed,” he pressed his slender fingers against his temple. “Please look forward to it.”

“I heard this film has very bold scenes. Do you have any special experiences to share with us?”

Zhen Xin lowered his fingers and laughed unconsciously. “You’ve got sharp ears. Yes,” he lightly licked his lips, putting on a fake shyness. “There are quite a few closed set scenes. Of course, we took necessary precautions. The director said they’ll use body doubles for reshoots in post production. But it’s still very challenging for acting skills, including on the spot reactions and chemistry with your scene partner.”

“Speaking of your scene partner,” she rustled through her script. “The actor you’re working with this time is…”

She kept flipping but just couldn’t find that name. Zhen Xin, to everyone’s surprise, lost his temper: “Zhang Zhun,” he pointed at the camera, meaning for the machine to stop. “You come out here to interview, and you don’t even know the lead actor’s name?”

This was a challenge. The female entertainment reporter was very embarrassed. She really hadn’t paid attention to the other lead’s name, because she didn’t think any star would bother about an absent co star like this. Red faced, she said resentfully, “Sorry, it’s Zhang Zhun. I haven’t really seen this name before, so I couldn’t remember it.”

Zhen Xin raised an eyebrow. “Then remember it now.”

She and he briefly locked eyes. She looked away first and signaled the cameraman to start rolling. “Then Mr. Zhen, can you talk about the intimate scenes between you and Mr. Zhang Zhun?”

The red light turned on, and Zhen Xin immediately returned to work mode. “Do you want to hear the real version or the fake version?” This was a little joke to liven up the atmosphere. After asking, he laughed first, getting the female reporter to laugh along with him. “Of course the real version!”

“We… kiss, embrace, caress each other,” Zhen Xin made a playful expression. “Just like any ordinary couple.”

“Isn’t it awkward?”

“We had half a month of bonding time before filming started,” he deliberately spoke slowly, creating an engaging atmosphere. “Eating together, living together… sleeping together.”

“Wow!” The female reporter acted very excited. “I heard that many actors who film gay themed movies end up getting too deep into their roles. Is Mr. Zhen worried about that?”

Zhen Xin squinted his eyes, looking at her through lenses that reflected a rosy glow. “No,” he smiled like a gentleman. “We’re both professional actors. Keeping the boundary between on screen and off screen is basic professional quality. You can’t change your sexual orientation just by filming one movie.”

“Then what do you think of Mr. Zhang Zhun?”

“He…” Thinking of Zhang Zhun, he suddenly became somewhat absentminded, recalling those eyes that always seemed to hold a shimmer of water, those thin lips that were always pressed tightly together, that restrained temperament, and the stubbornness that didn’t match his appearance. “He’s very…” He didn’t know how to describe it for a moment. He was rarely at a loss for words. “He just makes you feel… very comfortable. You want to be around him. No pressure. Calm as still water,” he started fiddling with his watch, looking awkward. “He has a kind of pull. Yes. You can’t escape it.”

As soon as he said the words “can’t escape it,” he immediately regretted it. The reporter across from him seemed to pick up on something too, looking up from her script in surprise. “You mean…”

“I mean his character in the film,” Zhen Xin skillfully circled back. “He and I have a psychological game of wits. For a romance film, this is one worth chewing on.”

“Then what about your thoughts on the other co star, action star Wu Rong?”

“Him,” Zhen Xin laughed heartily. “A very good actor. We get along well. Drinking and singing together…”

As he was speaking, the door of the club was pulled open from the outside. Staff immediately went up to stop them. Zhen Xin subconsciously looked in that direction. A dark brown wooden door, sunlight pouring in. Zhang Zhun was wearing a small suit with sword and blade embroidery on the cuffs, his shirt collar buttoned up tight, a rakish bright colored tie, his hair slicked back with pomade, hazy like a dream.

Zhen Xin couldn’t believe his eyes. He knew it wasn’t Zhang Zhun, but Gao Zhun. He clumsily adjusted his glasses, revealing a certain obsessive, lingering expression, somewhat excited yet unavoidably cautious, as if he had become Fang Chi. Fortunately, the reporter and cameraman also turned to look in that direction, so no one noticed his shift in expression. But the camera was rolling, destined to catch this over the line display of emotion.

He wanted to stand up and greet him, but he had too many concerns. The crew led Zhang Zhun over, bringing him to greet the media people. Zhang Zhun smiled faintly, politely asking each person he shook hands with, “How should I address you?”

He really was, as Zhen Xin said, very comfortable, very calm. It was hard to connect him with someone from a martial arts background. The female reporter’s face flushed slightly. This was that small time star whose name she hadn’t remembered. When he asked for her surname, she answered shyly, “My surname is Wang.”

She didn’t say “no need for formality.” Zhang Zhun still greeted her earnestly, “Pleased to meet you, Miss Wang.”

She had interviewed so many stars, and no one had ever asked for her name. She was just an entertainment reporter, a walking microphone. She suddenly didn’t know what to do, stupidly staring at Zhang Zhun, watching him walk up to Zhen Xin, using a strange evasive gaze, almost bashfully saying, “I’m done over there.” Maybe it was a woman’s intuition, but she felt his tone carried a hint of sweetness. “The next scene is near here. Director Chen asked me to find you. We’ll go over together in a bit.”

It was clearly something that could have been handled with a phone call. Zhen Xin unilaterally interpreted this as Zhang Zhun wanting to see him. He almost beamed with joy, the corners of his mouth uncontrollably turning up, looking like a teenage boy who had just received his first love letter. The kind of face you wanted to punch. She witnessed the chemistry between them. In her view, Zhen Xin didn’t seem like that Zhen Xin anymore. She reminded him at the right moment, “Mr. Zhen, shall we continue?”

Zhen Xin said continue, but he could no longer concentrate. His gaze kept drifting toward Zhang Zhun, who was pacing by the liquor cabinet. She asked a few questions, and he answered them perfunctorily. Ten minutes later, the interview ended. As soon as it was over, he took off his glasses and went straight toward the liquor cabinet. Zhang Zhun was holding a bottle of Red Label Johnnie Walker, looking at it. Along the back of his neck, at the edge of his collar, a row of fresh hickeys was visible. Zhen Xin suddenly felt a sourness in his heart. He pulled down a bottle of Black Label Johnnie Walker from the top shelf and handed it to him. “This one’s better,” then leaned in and asked, “He left?”

Zhang Zhun knew who he was asking about, but he didn’t want to answer. It was as if answering would expose some secret. He kept his head down and said nothing. Zhen Xin moved even closer. “Coming to your place tonight?”

“I… I have something tonight.” Zhang Zhun put the bottle back and turned around.

Zhen Xin chased after him. “What thing?”

Zhang Zhun checked his watch. “We’re done here. Let’s go over. Everyone’s waiting.”

Zhen Xin grabbed his arm. “Tonight. Wait for me.”

The female reporter watched them whispering from afar. Behind her, the cameraman and the assistant were packing up their equipment and gossiping. “Look at the two of them. Something’s definitely going on.”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” she defended them. “They just filmed a movie like that.”

“How did Zhen Xin give you a hard time just now? You forgot?” They teased her. “Besides, look at how lovey dovey they are. Look, look at those eyes. They’re practically throwing hooks!”

Zhen Xin didn’t care what he looked like in other people’s eyes. After changing clothes and getting himself together, F42 had already gone back to the hotel to drop off Wu Rong. The crew sent a new car. He refused to take it. He wanted to walk to the filming location with Zhang Zhun. Zhang Zhun could walk, but he couldn’t. His face was worth a fortune. In his agency’s words, “He must maintain a safe distance from the public.”

In the end, Zhang Zhun had no choice but to get in the car, sitting side by side with him in the back seat. When they first sat down, both of them were proper and well behaved. Once the car started moving, Zhen Xin pulled out his phone. “Look at this.” He scooted over toward Zhang Zhun until his thigh pressed against Zhang Zhun’s leg.

He handed the phone over. Zhang Zhun thought there was really something to look at and leaned his head over. But the screen was black. He had just let out a confused sound when the hand resting by his leg was secretly grabbed by Zhen Xin.

Zhang Zhun’s first reaction was to look at the driver. The driver was looking ahead at the road. He let out a breath of relief, and as soon as he relaxed, his face flushed red. Zhen Xin didn’t just hold his hand obediently. He held up his phone and shamelessly asked, “Interesting, right?”

Zhang Zhun glared at him, the corners of his eyes flying red. Zhen Xin wouldn’t let up. “Is it interesting or not?”

“Yes… interesting.” Zhang Zhun bit his teeth, his voice squeezed out from deep in his throat. Zhen Xin contentedly rubbed his palm with his thumb, forcefully threading his fingers through Zhang Zhun’s, holding on sticky and tight.

The filming location really wasn’t far. Two cross streets over and they were there. The storefront was already set up. A temporary metal sign hung on the narrow door, electroplated with the two characters “Black Pool.” Zhou Zheng was at the door directing workers to set up barricades. He greeted the two of them and led them inside. Chen Zheng Sen was behind the already set up camera, giving directions to a tall young man. The boy was very pretty, wearing a black Latin dance outfit, the makeup artist spraying something on his neck to create a sweaty effect. Zhen Xin casually asked Zhou Zheng, “Which film academy is he from?”

“He’s not,” Zhou Zheng called the makeup artist over to do Zhen Xin’s styling, lowering his voice. “An extra. A real gay guy. Apparently quite well known around here.”

Zhen Xin didn’t pay it much mind. Once he was ready, he and Zhang Zhun got into position.

This was a transitional scene. Done in one take. Just as they were about to wrap up, Chen Zheng Sen said he wanted to shoot a fight scene with Zhen Xin. Zhang Zhun went to rest. Zhen Xin and that pretty extra walked together, leaning against the railing while the crew arranged the set.

“I’m a huge fan of yours,” the little extra boldly struck up a conversation. “My name’s Tommy.”

Zhen Xin lit a cigarette and glanced at him. “Dare you say your real name?”

He was being snubbed, but Tommy wasn’t angry. He smiled with a certain charm. “So affectionate toward him over there, so cold toward me?” He pointed his chin toward Zhang Zhun, who was sitting in a chair across from them. “Slept together?”

Zhen Xin didn’t show anything, but his tone was clearly displeased. “Watch what you say.”

“Just saying what I see. The way you two look at each other, sparks flying. Any fool can see it,” the little extra was used to being fawned over and had no idea how to hold back. “What do you think of me?”

“I’m not from your country.”

The little extra snorted at him. “Yeah, his type is the good kind. Looks like he’d be great in bed.”

Zhen Xin glared at him hard, clearly struggling to hold back his anger. The little extra was still talking. “He’s that kind of ‘proper young lady.’ All prim and proper before you get him into bed. Once you break him in, he’s wild.”

Zhen Xin stubbed out his cigarette and shook out his fist. The little extra warily glanced at him sideways. “What, did I touch a nerve talking about your sweetheart? You want to hit me? Big star, I don’t believe you’d dare…”

Zhen Xin punched him right in the face. The scene erupted into chaos. In the midst of shouting and pulling people apart, they heard Chen Zheng Sen urgently yelling, “Quick! Point the camera at him! Action!”