Lifting his coat and backpack high, he then slammed them down—
Bang.
A crisp sound echoed.
Anson vented his frustration in this way. He took a deep breath to calm himself down, turned around, picked up the public phone, and fished out two coins to insert. Rapidly, he dialed the number, calming down a bit as he waited.
Waiting, waiting.
"Hey, Luca? It's Anson."
"Yes, Dad got drunk again..."
While speaking, he glanced outside. His body instinctively leaned against the transparent panel of the public phone booth as he scrutinized his father, who was sitting in the passenger seat, worried he might do something strange.
But before he could take a closer look, a voice came from behind.
"So, Mr. McFarlane."
Anson was startled and grimaced, but quickly put on a smile and turned towards the voice. "Hello, Mr. Roose."
A bald man stood behind him, staring at Anson with a stern expression.
"Uh, sorry I'm late. My dad took me out for lunch—breakfast, I mean."
In his haste, he tried to come up with an excuse, but unfortunately, he wasn't very good at it, and he already gave himself away with just one sentence.
Mr. Roose's face remained expressionless. "My office."
With that, Mr. Roose turned and walked away, not giving Anson another glance.
Anson turned to look at Mr. Roose. Although he couldn't see his facial expression, he could see the slight sag of his shoulders and jawline, hinting that he had sighed lightly.
Then Anson looked back, lowered his head, and leaned against the public phone, muttering softly in frustration.
"Yes, I'm in trouble."
The person on the other end of the phone continued speaking.
Anson listened obediently.
The whole place was completely silent—
This is the scene Gus had always been concerned about, this phone scene.
Actually, Anson's understanding of the whole scenario, situation, and feeling was entirely correct: a seventeen-year-old boy tries to skip class but is caught by his father; his father wants to take him back to school, but he realizes his father is possibly drunk, so he worries about his father's condition. After returning to school, he is filled with worry, frustration, impatience, helplessness, and more.
With no other choice, he can only seek help from his brother. Even though he wants to help, he doesn't know where to start.
A troubled and lonely youth, not only does he have to face his situation at school, but he also has to worry about things at home. His head is filled with problems and worries, yet he has no answers.
This state is delicate and fragile.
Anson's understanding was not the problem.
It's just that Gus always felt that Anson's performance seemed a bit off.
Not that he was overacting, nor was it too forced, but Gus could still see traces of acting.
Such traces cannot be hidden in a long take, lacking persuasiveness.
But Gus couldn't pinpoint exactly what needed to be changed or adjusted.
Gus didn't think it was Anson's fault; it was just a matter of getting in sync.
Until now.
This time, Gus didn't detect any traces of expression on Anson. From his eyes to his actions to his reactions, everything appeared natural and smooth, presenting a state—a subtle, restrained state.
At this moment, Gus saw the Anson he first met—
A little fragile, a little helpless, a little annoyed, with a touch of loneliness.
He tried to disguise it, to hide it, but in moments of absent-mindedness, a little leaked out, only to be hidden again when he looked up, albeit not very well.
That's what youth is like.
This Anson is real and sensitive, holding Gus's gaze firmly.
More importantly, Gus could sense Anson's sensitivity and unease.
Anson still wasn't sure about this state. Revealing such authenticity in front of the camera made him feel insecure, with even a hint of fear deep inside; but this feeling perfectly matched the movie's tone, removing the façade of acting and further breaking down the barrier between film and reality, giving the mockumentary style more power.
A small detail, Gus noticed Harris's state:
Holding his breath.
As a cameraman, Harris could feel the changes in the atmosphere and mood up close. Anson's state made Harris hold his breath, not daring to move, as if he were approaching a sandcastle that could collapse at any moment.
This is what Gus had been searching for all along.
This Anson, completely stripped of the aura and noise of Spider-Man, his handsome face hidden behind that tacky blonde hair, cautiously revealing a bit of his true self.
Thin sunlight poured down, but it seemed unable to touch him.
Anson held the receiver, seemingly listening, yet also somewhat distracted, but his focused expression still showed a hint of obedience and quietness.
Then, he finally stood up straight, lifted his head again to look out the door, his casual gaze once again confirming that his father was still sitting in the passenger seat, feeling slightly more at ease.
Only after the person on the other end of the line finished speaking did he continue.
"Could you come pick him up? I'll leave the car keys in the office."
Uh.
A pause.
"As soon as possible, okay? I don't know if he'll wander off."
His gaze remained fixed outside, unable to keep staring at his father, so it drifted aside. However, the corner of his eye still couldn't help but focus on his father.
"Mm. Okay."
He hung up the phone.
He glanced at his father again, then turned around and walked away in frustration, grabbing his coat and backpack, his head lowered, shoulders slightly slumped. He opened the door to the staff office—
Passing by the front desk, resigned to head to Mr. Roose's office.
Success!
Finally, this time Gus did not interrupt the filming. The phone scene, which had previously been NG'd fourteen times, finally passed smoothly, and the entire set was completely silent.
But there was no time to daydream.
The students and staff waiting for other scenes immediately got busy, because the long take wasn't over yet. The camera remained fixed on Anson, while things continued to happen in other parts of the school.
Fortunately for them, this wasn't unfamiliar; it was just their ordinary daily routine.
Initially, they were somewhat nervous because of the camera's presence, but after fourteen NGs and a long wait, their nerves and anxiety had all gone numb. Finally, entering the shot, the amateur actors making their first movie appearance actually relaxed, fully immersing themselves in their roles.
Harris, carrying the camera, closely followed Anson's steps.
Was there anything special about Anson in the camera?
No. Absolutely not.
Natural, relaxed, immersed in his thoughts, with no obvious emotional fluctuations, only his slumped shoulders and dragging footsteps hinted at a bit of heaviness.
Yet.
Harris's camera couldn't leave Anson, closely capturing his every move, quietly drawing into this seventeen-year-old's world, carefully feeling his sensitivity and sadness.
Finally.
Anson sat down on the red sofa against the wall in Mr. Roose's office.
He gently sat down, but sank heavily. Before he could react, he had already sunk into the red sofa completely, like a small figure swallowed up by a red Venus flytrap, leaving only a small head.
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