Chapter 11: Everything Will Be Alright!

  "Please sit down, would you like tea or coffee?" Tuō Shì said with a smile, inviting Zhou Shǎomíng to take a seat on the sofa.

  "Oh, sorry about that. How about a cup of coffee? I was up all night writing this script and I'd like to ask you to play the most important role in this film." Zhou Shaoming sat on the sofa, holding out the screenplay.

  "Alright, no rush, I have plenty of time. I just finished filming 'The Bad Neighbour on the 4th Floor' and I don't have any other projects lined up for now." Tobin poured a cup of coffee for Zhou Shaoming and himself poured a cup of tea, slowly taking a sip.

  "That's great, ah, I mean you're just right to be my male lead, not that you're not good at acting." Zhou Shaoming awkwardly touched his head, he had misspoken again.

  "Haha, young man, don't blame yourself, you didn't say anything wrong. Ah, being young is great!" Tobin laughed loudly, looking at Zhou Shaoming with encouraging eyes, which made him feel a little better.

  After all, Zhou Shaoming had also been subjected to too many setbacks and failures, which inevitably cast a psychological shadow over him.

  "Here, take a look at my script!" Zhou Shaoming downed his coffee in one gulp and handed the script to Tobin.

  Tobin took the script, but didn't look at it. Instead, he looked seriously at Zhou Shaoming and asked: "The male lead role was given to a 57-year-old old man? Are you not writing a romantic love story with wind, flowers, snow, and moon, or an exciting gun battle scene?"

  "No, not those. The story comes from some of my childhood nightmares. If I suddenly woke up and found myself soaked in bathtub water, unable to see my fingers when I stretched out my hand, soon discovering that there was another person in the bathroom. When the other person found the light switch and turned on the lights, I realized we were both locked in a secret room. The other person claimed to be called Gao Deng, a doctor. Both of our feet were shackled with thick iron chains, and on the floor of the secret room lay a large pool of blood, where a man's corpse was lying, having committed suicide by poisoning himself after shooting himself. I found a broken saw, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't cut through the iron chain. What should I do? Should I use the saw to cut off my own leg, so that I could escape?" Zhou Shaoming knew this wasn't the time to retreat, and he stood up straight, recounting his story calmly."

  "Oh, who locked you in here? How did he come up with such a terrifying thing to do to you? What does he want to do? And what will you do? Cut off your own legs by hand? My God, is that the only way to escape?" Tobin's face showed a shocked expression, involuntarily leaning forward slightly, as if wanting to see the answer on Zhou Shaoming's face.

  A Husky suddenly ran over, curiously sizing up Zhou Shaoming who had occupied its position, then jumped onto the sofa and obediently snuggled up beside Zhou Shaoming.

  "Don't be afraid, his name is Sol. I love small animals." Tobin said with a smile, and Zhou Shaoming only then discovered that Tobin's home had quite a few pets.

  Behind me on the sofa lay a fat cat, lazily curled up into a ball, snoring loudly.

  "I understand, small animals are lovely, I also like cats and dogs." Zhou Shaoming stroked the head of his Siberian Husky Sol, smiling as he spoke.

  And that Husky Sol was stroked by Zhou Shaoming, feeling very comfortable and closing his eyes to enjoy it.

  "And you, what kind of intention do you want to express through this film?" Tobin was not the kind of ordinary audience who would be deeply immersed in a horror story. He noticed something more profound.

  "Look at the script, Mr. Tobin, everything you want is in it. I hope that movie audiences can feel the beauty of life and the meaning of existence amidst the bloodshed and screams."

  "Oh? To feel the beauty of life in bloodiness? I'm getting more and more confused. Can horror movies also be educational propaganda films? This is a very interesting thing." Tobin burst out laughing loudly, starting to flip through the script in his hand.

  As he flipped through, occasionally furrowing his brow, Tobin seemed like a teacher grading papers, while Zhou Shaoming felt like the student who had cheated on the exam, nervously waiting for the teacher's evaluation.

  His mood became increasingly tense, the feeling of being on edge grew stronger and stronger. Zhou Shaoming felt as if he was a drowning man in an endless ocean, holding his breath, waiting to be rescued or succumb to death at the bottom of the sea.

  Time passed minute by minute, Tobin looked very carefully, every paragraph was repeatedly deliberated, and even closed his eyes, leaned his head on the sofa, occasionally rubbing his temples, as if replaying everything in the script in his own mind.

  Zhou Shaoming continued to stroke Sol, his strength increasing, until Sol, unable to bear it, angrily ran to the side and ignored the person who was almost rubbing off all his fur.

  At last, Tobin raised his head and stared at Zhou Shaoming's face with a serious expression, saying: "You're too young, you're really too young. You're wasting your life!"

  Zhou Shaoming's heart seemed to fall from a height of ten thousand feet to the bottom of an abyss in an instant, and the feeling of loss and despair was like a tsunami rushing in, engulfing him, leaving no room for survival.

  "Mr. Tobin, can't you, can't you take another look at the script, just one more time?" Zhou Shaoming was like a drowning man clutching at his last straw, his tone also taking on a pleading quality, he didn't know who else he could turn to if Tobin wasn't going to take on this film.

  "No, there's no need to look again." Tobin gently put the script aside without another glance, picked up his tea and took a slow sip. His sharp eyes stared at Zhou Shaoming, although there was not a hint of mockery in his gaze, but a tinge of pity and regret, even some bloodthirstiness and cruelty. Zhou Shaoming's heart was drifting aimlessly without a place to settle, he knew he had failed, thoroughly and utterly failed.

  I couldn't help but feel a little self-mockery, I, a third-rate university graduate who crossed over to Hollywood, dared to dream of becoming a director, could I really complete a movie with a box office of 50 million US dollars? What a joke!

  A heart that had long been reduced to ruins was only holding on because of hope, Zhou Shaoming sighed and shook his head.

  His eyes were slightly moist, Zhou Shaoming was struggling to breathe, trying his best to control himself, controlling the despair that cut like a knife.

  Looking at the script of the split-screen play beside Tobin, looking at those words written by himself one stroke at a time, looking at that dozen or so pages full of his own heart and soul, Zhou Shaoming suddenly lifted his head.

  Firm eyes shining like stars.

  No, no! I will not accept failure, nor am I afraid of it! Zhou Shaoming clenched his fists, and a surge of courage swept through his entire body, causing him to roar wildly in his heart.

  Heaven has given me such a perfect opportunity! A classic movie like Chainsaw Massacre, an unbeatable script with lines, even the music and materials needed are all ready. How many people in the world can have such an opportunity?

  At least, at least Christina will support me! I will never fail!

  Tobin disagreed with acting, I went to find others, even if I found a hundred people, a thousand people! I also want to complete this task, I want to be worthy of my own words!

  Zhou Shaoming stood up, took a deep breath, bowed politely and said calmly: "I believe my movie will be loved by the audience. Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Tobin, I'll take my leave now."

  Tobin didn't say yes or no, but instead gazed at Zhou Shaoming with a profound and inexpressible look in his eyes. Suddenly, he said: "Hello, Mr. Smith Zhou! I want to play a game with you! Most people live without knowing gratitude. Don't think that living is a matter of course; life and death are in your hands!"

  Isn't this those lines from the script?

  Zhou Shaoming turned around in shock, staring at Tobin's smiling face in disbelief, his lips trembling with surprise. All he could hear was Tobin's voice echoing in his ears: "Hey, Smith Zhou, when I saw those people playing the game, shouldn't I have looked at them like that?"

  "Awesome, just awesome!" Zhou Shaoming exclaimed incoherently and excitedly: "Mr. Tobin, does this mean you agree to play the role of Jian Cuo?"

  "I'd also like to ask Director Smith Zhou, did I pass my audition earlier? Sorry for the misunderstanding!" Tobin shrugged and burst out laughing.

  "Oh, thank God!" Zhou Shaoming was overjoyed and excited, his heart bursting with emotion, the surge of feelings almost making him jump up in excitement.

  As he left Tobin's house, Zhou Shaoming couldn't help but jump for joy. Not only had Tobin agreed to act in the important role of Jian Sui for free, but he also looked favorably upon the profitability of Chainsaw Massacre and generously agreed to invest $100,000 in the filming. Of course, no one would make a pointless investment, and Tobin also enjoyed the right to share in the box office revenue.

  And Tobin also promised that he would use his connections in the film industry to help Zhou Shaoming find advertisers for product placement as soon as possible, to make up for the shooting costs.

  Time was already dusk, Zhou Shaoming got off the bus and walked quickly back to his home. The bustling Hollywood Plaza always had some guitar-wielding street performers singing their hearts out, beautiful and incredibly moving melodies piercing through the noisy world, like a clear spring flowing through the soul.

  Zhou Shaoming slowed down his pace, threw a few coins and walked towards the road home under the nodding smile of the street singer.

  Everything will be fine!