Hell's Actor

Chapter 213 213: Neon and Electro

"The beginning will be slow," Director Groux said.It was a month after the filming for Lady Ethereal began.

"Exquisite," Averie replied, sipping his tea. "I was never fond of making films for dimwits with short attention spans."

He absentmindedly stared at the absolute darkness outside the window of his hotel room.

"A slow start is exactly what this story needs anyway." His eyes focused, zeroing in on his reflection. "Contrast is necessary."

"In an artistic sense, it works out. But…"

Averie turned to him. "The market?"

The director nodded his heavy head with some apprehension. "The market is stagnant, and it does not like to deviate."

"What were you expecting? It's an art film."

"I'm not expecting much, but we need to recover at least half of our budget. And with the slow beginning, I'm not sure whether that's possible. When we release it, it won't do well."

He said it almost as if he were mourning the death of someone dear.

Averie couldn't entirely discredit the man's apprehension, but he thought the director's views were skewed.

"I don't believe the market has reached such a decline. People have become harder to please, but the moviegoers haven't become complete idiots yet. An art film certainly isn't attracting the young people whose brains have been rotted because of the constant stimulus the internet provides."

'And I am doing my part,' he thought. 'Cyberbullying them is my way of showing love.'

"What do you mean?"

"What can the audience do if they don't like the first twenty minutes of the film? Will they cancel their plans and walk out? No, they will give it some more time. Our situation isn't that bad."

"Do you really think so?" The director put down his teacup and crossed his tired legs. "Why?"

Averie broke into a sudden fit of laughter, almost as if he were drunk.

"You sound like someone who hasn't tasted the life of a salaryman. Director, working people don't like to waste money until a situation becomes truly irredeemable. And couples can't walk out on their partners, can they?"

Like the villain of some 90s film, he narrowed his eyes and caressed his chin.hat looked the most intrigued by the idea, was none other than a young Jean-Louis Groux.

The Photographer's hand dropped to his side. As he took a step to his left, the door closed and the sound of the gramophone with it.

The amber-eyed man continued his journey towards the centre of the first floor.

As he passed by a neon-lit café, a unique sound—difficult to attribute to any of the traditional instruments—began playing.

It was electronic music, and it began with percussion.

It was heavy and melancholic. As The Photographer continued further in, his surroundings turned dour, as if resonating with the music.

Slowly, the surroundings turned silent, and the keyboard crept in.

In that melancholic world, he saw a butterfly. It was pink, purple, and blue—like the neon signs aloft.

It was breathtaking, glowing brightly in the dark.

The Photographer followed it, as if he was being led by the hand.