Deep in the Act: Chapter 57

“Damn it give me back my worldview! The production company must have forced Brother Zhen and scheming Zhun to show affection, my Brother Zhen is such a dedicated person… thinking about it makes me want to cry!”

“Production company forcing them +10086! How could my Brother Zhen possibly be gay, all his ex girlfriends would be idiots then, we’re not taking the blame for this! Please production company stop showing your bottom line, anyway I won’t watch the movie, this hype is disgusting!”

“Move along, what’s there to fight about, ‘Into the Role’ is a gay film, the leads spreading gay rumors, it’s practically a complete publicity package.”

Gao Zhun scrolled the mouse, the bluish light from the screen reflecting on the whites of his eyes, like a layer of moisture.

“Those whitewashing for Zhen Xin, don’t be afraid to say I was right there at the scene. If Zhen Xin and Zhang Zhun have nothing going on, I’ll jump into the Huangpu River when I go out! When he saw the photo Zhang Zhun’s face went white with fear. He couldn’t hear our questions at all. It was Zhen Xin with overflowing boyfriend power, holding him and rushing out, holding him so tight, like he was hugging his wife!”

His fingers wouldn’t obey. Zhang Zhun slid the scroll wheel twice without moving it. He wiped sweat on his pants, then scrolled down.

“I also think the two of them might have hooked up. Look at how many celebrities got together while filming. I saw Zhang Zhun at the ‘North High Peak’ meet and greet. Honestly he was pretty seductive in person. It’s not strange at all that Zhen Xin got into character.”

“Even if Brother Zhen got into character it was because Zhang Zhun seduced him, shameless bitch!”

Zhang Zhun stopped touching the mouse, staring blankly at the last few lines on the webpage:

“No way! Weren’t they at each other’s throats, irreconcilable enemies! My sky is falling! Thinking about how I anonymously cursed Zhang Zhun as trash on Tieba a couple days ago, would Brother Zhen hate me to death if he saw it, I don’t want this ahhh!”

“Person above, you’re not alone! I’m the same as you, my whole person is not doing well now! Brother Zhen I’m telling you, if you’re together just say so okay, if I knew he was yours I wouldn’t have cursed him…”

“Publicly sworn enemies, privately inseparable, the cover up work was too thorough… I don’t want to hear it I don’t want to hear it…”

“Am I the only one who wants to say that photo has a real vibe… secretly a bit cute… begging for video…”

Zhang Zhun slapped the laptop screen shut, hugging his head and collapsing onto the desk.

“You don’t need to say it, I don’t agree,” Zhen Xin was on the phone by the window, practically shouting, walking back and forth as he shouted: “Finding a new woman right after breaking up, that’s not much better than watching movies with a man!”

Zhang Zhun knew, it was Ms. Li, his agent.

“You don’t need to arrange it, even if you arrange it I won’t cooperate,” Zhen Xin was very firm this time, biting down and not compromising: “Fans aren’t stupid, they’ll know we’re using male female rumors to cover up male male rumors!”

Zhang Zhun slightly turned his face, looking at his dark silhouette against the bright morning light. He was trying his best, but the harder he tried, the more heartbroken Zhang Zhun felt.

“What did you say,” suddenly, Zhen Xin’s tone changed: “Say that again.”

Zhang Zhun propped himself up. He could tell, Zhen Xin was about to explode. Sure enough, he loudly questioned Li Lingli: “What do you mean ‘men with men is a disease’? Is messing around with women more decent than with men!”

Li Lingli also seemed unable to control her emotions, her sharp shrieking audible even through the phone. Zhang Zhun stood up. He didn’t want them to fall out, but before he could intervene, he heard Zhen Xin say: “Fine, you don’t need to wonder anymore, I’ll tell you, he and I are together, we’re gay, we’re sick!”

Zhang Zhun was dumbstruck, probably frozen for a second, then rushed up to snatch Zhen Xin’s phone, trembling as he hung up: “You’re crazy…” his whole body shook, looking at Zhen Xin in terror, his eyes wet: “What are you doing!”

“Coming out!” Zhen Xin roared back, redirecting the fire he hadn’t finished with Li Lingli toward him: “What, you dare to do it but not admit it!”

Zhang Zhun’s face changed. He threw the phone hard onto the ground, then slapped him hard, not too heavy or light. Zhen Xin covered his face, wronged as if about to cry: “That first day, who was it that told me ‘there’s no going back’!”

“I never thought about going back! Sneaking around with you in the shadows, being treated like a woman and having my butt played with, I never thought about going back!” Speaking his true feelings, Zhang Zhun softened, with a begging tone: “But we can’t come out…”

“Why!”

“Before twenty I only knew how to box. Now besides boxing, all I have left is acting. Don’t cut off my path…”

Zhen Xin pulled up his hand: “You still have me…”

Zhang Zhun wiped a tear and laughed: “Living off you like a woman? You’re very rich, you have many 20 millions?”

It was the 20 million thing again. Zhen Xin didn’t speak. Zhang Zhun pulled his fingers from his hand: “Think about your family too.”

Zhen Xin couldn’t stand his cowardice: “What do they have to do with it!”

“I don’t want my mom to not be able to hold her head up when she goes out to buy groceries,” Zhang Zhun half turned away, not daring to face him: “She doesn’t even know what gay means.”

Zhen Xin felt agitated, agitated to the point of throbbing pain at both temples: “How can you be afraid of this and afraid of that, you coward!”

Zhang Zhun was somewhat stung: “Yes, I’m a coward, but society is like this, my hometown is like this, the mainland is like this!” Petulantly, he threw out: “Can’t compare to your Taiwan.”

Zhen Xin furrowed his brows: “What do you mean ‘your Taiwan,’ what are you implying!”

Zhang Zhun stubbornly refused to apologize. Zhen Xin was also holding back, suppressed to the edge of exploding: “Think about Gao Zhun and Fang Chi, how hard was it for them, still together even in such despair, are we not even as good as two fictional characters!”

Zhang Zhun most feared hearing this: “That’s fiction, it’s fantasy, it’s a script!”

Zhen Xin grabbed his shoulders: “The story is fake, the feelings are real!”

Zhang Zhun pushed him away: “Zhen Xin, you’re too deep in character!”

“Too deep in character?” Zhen Xin spoke in anger without choosing his words: “Who was it that called me ‘Fang Chi’ in bed!”

Zhang Zhun frowned: “When!”

Zhen Xin knew he had misspoken, calmed down, and said softly: “Dare you say we’re not acting?”

Zhang Zhun had no choice but to fall silent. This silence tore at the heart and ripped at the lungs. His lips opened and closed, and he said: “Yes… acting,” his voice even smaller than Zhen Xin’s: “At most one more week, filming wraps, and we should get out of character too.”

Knowing it was angry words, Zhen Xin still slammed the door and left. Zhang Zhun then regretfully slapped himself.

Chen Zhengsen had Zhou Zheng announce a meeting. People from various departments gradually gathered. Zhang Zhun was smoking outside the door. Chen Zhengsen very casually called to Zhen Xin: “Hey, call Zhang Zhun over.”

Such an ordinary thing, but Zhen Xin looked around, seeing Little Deng and Little Wang leaning by the window in the distance: “Deng Zicheng, call Zhang Zhun in, meeting time.”

Chen Zhengsen and Zhou Zheng exchanged a glance, saying nothing. Zhang Zhun stubbed out his cigarette and came in. Zhou Zheng very habitually pointed him to the empty chair next to Zhen Xin. But Zhang Zhun, contrary to his usual self, went to sit with the camera crew across from them.

This kind of change everyone could see, but everyone tacitly understood.

“Okay okay, meeting,” Chen Zhengsen tapped the chair arm with his script: “This is our crew’s last work meeting. You’ve all seen the shooting schedule. Four and a half days of filming left, but let me tell you first, we may add scenes at any time! I’ll just say a few points…”

Zhen Xin’s phone vibrated. Looking at his intimidated expression, Zhang Zhun knew it was Li Lingli. He covered his mouth and answered, and in a few sentences became interested: “Mm mm… movie or stage play… oh, the investors?”

He had gotten a new job. Zhang Zhun was very envious, also somewhat disappointed. Jobs offered to a film emperor, the resources wouldn’t be too bad.

“Tonight is night scenes, but I have something to do during the day and need to go out. After five o’clock, five to seven I have time, okay.”

He hung up. Zhang Zhun immediately averted his eyes. Chen Zhengsen was still talking, spitting as he spoke. “Ding dong,” it was a text message. Zhang Zhun pulled out his phone, seeing it was from his mom’s number: No matter how busy work is, give Danyi a call.

Mom, actually she and I, already broke up.

He typed it out, about to press send, but his fingers hesitated. Thinking about it, he deleted those words and only replied with “Okay.”

Pitch black, Zhang Zhun felt around, walls on all sides, arms couldn’t raise high because the clothes were too stiff, cinched at the waist, like a formal suit worn at a cocktail party, bow tie at the collar. He flailed and pushed, not knowing which wall suddenly opened a crack. Light and noise poured in through the gap. He immediately realized, this was a dream.

Walking out, outside was a very large venue, with many men and women, camera equipment of all sizes set up. Suddenly someone patted him. He turned back, surprised and called: “Senior brother!”

Wu Rong smiled affectionately, putting his arm around his shoulder and walking him in. Zhang Zhun curiously peeked at his own dream, brushing past Director Chen and Zhou Zheng in crisp suits. In a flash, at the gathering of the crowd, he saw Zhen Xin in full formal dress.

Zhen Xin also saw him, staring greedily. Zhang Zhun walked toward him with a smile on his lips. Because it was a dream, there was a fearless relaxation. They walked closer and closer. But Zhen Xin’s gaze became flickering, to the point of stiffly turning away.

“Zhen Xin, look,” Wu Rong called to him: “Who’s here!”

Clearly, Zhen Xin’s surprise was fake: “Oh Teacher Zhang,” he politely extended a hand: “Long time no see.”

Was this to shake hands with him? Zhang Zhun pressed his lips, staring blankly into his eyes. Wu Rong nudged him with his elbow, and he remembered to raise his hand, shaking it loosely. Zhen Xin was clearly grasping for words: “Haven’t seen you in a year, how have you been?”

Zhang Zhun answered confusedly: “Pretty good…” He still wanted to say something. In fact, he had a belly full of words to say to him. At this moment the theater chime sounded, and guests took their seats one after another.

Their seats were next to each other, so close, yet Zhen Xin didn’t turn to look even once. The host came on stage, cameras started rolling. Zhang Zhun didn’t care about any of this. He only stared at him, tracing his fashionable and pretty sideburns, feeling his dismissive coldness. It was like a gash was torn open in his heart. Zhang Zhun was anxious to talk to him, when suddenly the sound system blared, the large LED screen lit up, displaying a line of effect text: The gaze of the world is terrifying, you and I hold hands to the end, “Into the Role” global premiere!

So that’s how it was. Zhang Zhun bitterly tugged at the corner of his mouth. The show had long ended. All that remained between them was sober awkwardness.

Ding… ding ding ding… he didn’t know where the ringing came from. Zhang Zhun irritably pulled at his bow tie, trying hard to maintain his smile. Because the cameras were filming, he told himself, the world was watching.

Ding… ding ding ding… the ringing grew more and more urgent. He pinched his temples enduring it, when suddenly, as if someone had pushed him hard from behind, he abruptly opened his eyes. It was the familiar ceiling of the hotel room. He got out of bed and went to open the door in a daze. Little Deng stood there, frowned, and wiped his face. Only then did Zhang Zhun know, he had been crying.

“Sleeping so early.” Little Deng entered the room, turning on the TV.

Zhang Zhun went to the bathroom for a towel: “Qin Xun suddenly asked for leave, our group is off.”

“What a coincidence,” Little Deng carried a plastic bag onto the bed: “I was helping at Group A, waited two hours, the film emperor didn’t show up either.”

Zhang Zhun’s face stiffened: “Oh…” He didn’t like this coincidence. Little Deng changed channels while taking duck neck and beer from the plastic bag: “I have a feeling, this ball game is going to be a real grind.”

He was completely wrong. The game entered garbage time way too early. By halftime he had already fallen asleep with his head tilted. At 4:30 in the morning, Zhang Zhun received a WeChat from Zhen Xin: Did I wake you? If you’re awake, come up.

Zhang Zhun put down his phone and stared at the TV. He wanted to pretend he was asleep. But the trampled grass field on the screen, those aimless dribbles, all made him restless. Glancing at Little Deng, he lightly got out of bed.

Zhen Xin was very surprised when he opened the door to greet him: “So fast!” He wore a brand new formal dress shirt, starched snow white: “Wait for me a moment.” He was going to the bathroom, but halfway turned back, using a magazine to cover something on the table.

Zhang Zhun was somewhat dazed. That dream made him dazed, as if all this sweetness before his eyes would in the end be nothing but flowers in a mirror and the moon in water.

Zhen Xin was probably changing clothes in the bathroom. He always liked to do little “tricks.” It really was an unintentional act. Zhang Zhun casually lifted the magazine to look, but was so scared he immediately withdrew his hand.

Beneath it was a white ring box.

To say his heart didn’t flutter would be a lie. He looked back toward the bathroom, secretly took the box out from under the magazine, slowly opened it. Sure enough it was a pair of rings. He took one out, platinum with diamonds set inside, engraved with a line of small text: “Tiger in My Love.”

My fierce tiger in my love. In that instant, Zhang Zhun was so moved he nearly teared up. He felt like something had seized him, unable to walk away. He knew it was love, so he no longer wanted to resist, obediently, wanting to just offer up his throat like this.

He hid the ring back under the magazine, deliberately standing farther away, pretending to be nonchalant as he stood by the bed. From here, with a tilt of his head he could see the bathroom situation. Zhen Xin was busily adjusting his tie position.

A sound came from the bed, it was the phone. Zhang Zhun didn’t want to look, but subconsciously glanced over. There was a crack on the screen, from when he threw it yesterday morning. Below the crack, there was a new text notification. The sender was Qin Xun.

Little Deng’s words suddenly drilled into his mind. Zhang Zhun knew it was impossible, but his heart was still clenched, like a foolish woman checking her boyfriend’s phone. He tiptoed to grab the phone, swiped up to enter the password page.

Zhen Xin had never said his birthday, but Zhang Zhun knew. He tried twice, both wrong. The tension and frustration made him ashamed. He was about to give up when, in a flash, he swallowed, trying to input another set of numbers.

0505, it was his own birthday. Truly unexpected. The screen flickered slightly, and unlocked.

Joy lasted only an instant, then everything shattered. Qin Xun said: I’m here, are you still asleep?

They had indeed been together before. Zhang Zhun clenched his fist. He started doubting again, doubting the future, doubting those rings. He went to check the call log. At this moment Zhen Xin said from the bathroom: “I’ve thought about it, whatever you say goes. Anyway we’re going to be together, so it’s fine if I give in a bit more.”

Phone, Weibo, WeChat, no traces at all. Zhang Zhun was about to breathe a sigh of relief when he happened to see the photo album icon. Zhen Xin liked taking photos, a mess of pictures piled up. He scrolled up and down, didn’t see Qin Xun, but saw another photo. It was himself, hazy with drunkenness, eye sockets flushed red staring at the camera, with a few drops of milky white fluid on his face.

Zhang Zhun secretly cursed Zhen Xin as a pervert, but his brain was somewhat slow. He couldn’t remember this scene, couldn’t remember it at all. Until he looked at the photo date, he was instantly frozen there.

What he thought was a dream, turned out not to be a dream. What he thought was love, might not be love either.

His chin spasmed and trembled. He quickly pressed it with his fist. Remembering that hungover noon, remembering those tears of pain, he had no choice but to hate Zhen Xin. If not for that night, if Zhen Xin hadn’t deliberately hidden it, they might have never been involved, clean, you are you and I am I.

Zhen Xin came out of the bathroom. Because of his excitement, he didn’t notice Zhang Zhun’s actions. He went straight to get the ring, then walked over from behind: “Hey honey!” he said. Zhang Zhun turned around at his call. The phone slipped from his palm, spun a few times, and fell at Zhen Xin’s feet.

He was kneeling on one knee, in a formal black suit, a red rose in his chest pocket, the open ring box in his right hand: “I wanted to give you a sur…” As he spoke, his gaze uncontrollably fell on the phone that had fallen over. The screen was lit, showing that photo he looked at every night.

The words behind stuck in his throat. Before he could look up, Zhang Zhun brushed past him. Surprise instantly became embarrassment. All that remained was the sound of a door slamming.