Big boy Nicky

Lyman lay on a soft bed, covered with a light blanket, staring wide-eyed at the window. The weather outside seemed unpleasant, gloomy since early morning, giving a sense of coldness without any warmth. The lighting was dim, and just looking at it gave off a chilly feeling. Paris weather in September was changeable, with temperatures fluctuating between high and low.

He forgot to check the weather forecast last night and went to sleep after taking a shower without paying attention. But looking at the current situation outside, it seemed like a significant drop in temperature. However, it had nothing to do with him.

The hotel had heating installed, so lying in the room, he didn't feel cold at all. Besides, he finally got a vacation and a rare opportunity to sleep in. Waking up so early seemed a bit unfair to this precious holiday.

I'll continue sleeping for a while, he decided.

"Ah, why can't I fall asleep?"

He closed his eyes and pretended to lie for a while, but he didn't feel the slightest drowsiness. He really couldn't sleep, and just lying like this made his body uncomfortable. It was torturous. Complaining in his mind, Lyman pushed aside the blanket, got up, dressed, put on his shoes, and walked to the bathroom on the right side of the door.

After taking care of his personal and bodily needs, he opened the door and went downstairs. As soon as he reached the stairs on the first floor, he heard voices coming from the main hall.

"...When did Nic say he would come?" It was Heath Ledger's familiar voice.

"He should be able to come this afternoon. Didn't he say he wouldn't miss the closure party?" Thomas replied.

"Ah, it feels so good to sleep in. The past few weeks were exhausting," René's voice.

Lyman walked into the hotel lobby and saw several crew members sitting on the resting sofa, chatting aimlessly, looking for topics. He was somewhat familiar with these people but not too close, making it awkward.

In the midst of this awkward small talk, fortunately, Lyman approached. René glanced at him and said, "Up and about? Had breakfast yet?"

"Not yet, let's have brunch together later, no rush." Lyman smiled and asked, "What are you guys talking about?"

Taking the opportunity, he sat next to René, with Heath and Thomas on his left, and a bit further on the right was Jon Bernthal, one of the lead actors of the crew.

"The closure party, how should we arrange it?" René asked.

"We have George and Sandy. EuropaCorp is footing the bill, so we just need to go and have fun," Thomas replied.

Well, the atmosphere became awkward after he joined the conversation. The main issue was that no one knew what to talk about. Discussing the movie wasn't possible since post-production hadn't started yet, let alone the release.

Casual chat? A bunch of guys together, who would initiate that?

René seemed inclined to bring up risqué topics, talking about women, but he didn't know the personalities of the others present. Fortunately, he didn't speak up. Otherwise, Lyman would have been the first to dismantle him.

All talk and no action, you talk the talk, but can you walk the walk?

Finally, it was lunchtime, and everyone sat together, enjoying delicious food, no longer stuck in idle conversation.

"Why did you choose a bar for the party?"

A black Mercedes-Benz van smoothly parked in the underground parking lot. Lyman recalled the scene of numerous bars he had just seen and asked George, who was in the driver's seat.

"Yeah, we rented the entire bar. It's more suitable for the crew to have a wild celebration."

"Yes, that's how it should be," René added, expressing his strong opinion.

Lyman waved his hand, somewhat helpless, and said, "It doesn't seem fair to the ladies in the crew."

"I consulted many people, and it was a unanimous suggestion before making the decision. Trust me, they will like it."

"Perhaps."

The group walked through the spacious parking lot and entered the bar reserved by the crew.

"Look, I've already set everything up."

Lyman looked around, and indeed, it was well done.

The bar wasn't large in terms of area, but the spacious dance floor gave it a distinctive vibe. Not everyone from the crew had arrived yet, and everyone knew they were having a wild celebration in the bar, so it didn't feel crowded.

Lyman and his companions arrived relatively late, and there were already quite a few people inside. Everyone was drinking various types of alcohol, chatting, or dancing on the dance floor. The atmosphere was lively.

One crew member noticed Lyman and approached him with two glasses of alcohol. Lyman couldn't refuse the warm gesture and clinked glasses with the person.

"What are your plans next?" George asked casually after the person left.

"Well..." George's words were interrupted by a voice from the side.

Nicholas Cage had arrived at the bar, surrounded by a large group of young women with different hair colors and skin tones.

Nicolas spoke up, "Alright, you guys have fun."

Upon noticing Lyman's presence, he quickly walked over.

"How about it? I was afraid that many people from the crew wouldn't find companions, so I brought a few more," Nicolas said.

Laughter filled the air around him.

"You're quite familiar with Paris, aren't you? How can you find women everywhere?" Lyman felt a bit helpless.

"Of course, that's the strength of the service company I mentioned. It's not just useful in the United States. So, how about it? The conditions are good, right?" Nic's tone was full of pride.

These women had long legs, slender waists, and tall figures. Lyman speculated that they were either models or small actresses. Well, there was no need to speculate, as it was unlikely they were respectable women.

"How can a party be without women?" Nicolas said with an air of authority, "It's like a spice, you know, indispensable."

"It seems like you have a lot of experience."

"Of course, my experience surpasses yours by far." Nicolas put on an air of importance, "Over the years, this has been the best way for me to relieve stress. I don't even know how many Hollywood actresses I've encountered. The ones you've met are probably just a fraction."

"You're quite good at boasting. I'm impressed," Lyman joked.

"Didn't you notice? Lyman, that's just how the industry works. Despite the media making a fuss about infidelity, it's all just a show. Who among us truly falls in love?" Nicolas said without a care, "When you have pressure, you have to release it; otherwise, you'll suffocate yourself sooner or later."

"Here's to false love," Lyman raised two glasses of dark beer and handed one to Nicholas.

"Cheers to that damn love."

They clinked glasses and emptied their beers.

Lyman looked at Nicolas and poured another glass, then handed it to him. "Do you have something on your mind? Or are you feeling pressured? Perhaps both."

Nicolas immediately wanted to deny it, but as the words reached his lips, he didn't know what to say.

"Relationship problems?" Lyman continued, seeing Nicolas's calm facade, "Are you tired?" Since the moment he started speaking, Lyman had sensed it. Nicolas wasn't particularly happy, and his smile seemed forced. As for all the nonsense about discussing women, it seemed more like a form of venting.

"Oh, Lisa-Marie and I might be through. We had a big fight when I got home yesterday," Nicolas said nonchalantly and downed another large glass of beer.

Lyman continued pouring and patted his shoulder. "I think you're right. When you have pressure, you need to release it, don't keep it bottled up."

They clinked glasses again, drank, and poured more. Immersed in the pleasurable feeling brought by alcohol.

Nic's mood improved considerably, and he joked, "Many people say I'm a genius actor, a talented performer. Some say I'm just lucky, riding on the Coppola surname. What do you think, Lyman? Give me your evaluation."

Sometimes, it wasn't easy to answer a joke, and Lyman felt that way now. The tone was playful, but it was also a genuine concern.

He thought for a moment, faced Nicolas, looked into his eyes, and said earnestly, "That's because you haven't achieved enough success yet. When the whole world talks about you, they will only acknowledge your talent. They will have only one thing in mind: you're a genius actor."

"To greater success, cheers." Nicholas raised his glass, signaling.

"Yes, to success."

Lyman clinked his glass.

"I can't wait to see "Fury" released," Nicholas put down his empty glass and mumbled to himself, "If it succeeds, it'll really shut up those critics."

"Perhaps."

"Not perhaps," Nicholas looked at Lyman, and each word was deliberate, "It will definitely succeed. I believe in you."

"I can't afford to fail." He said so.

It seemed that "Windtalkers" had a significant impact on him, suddenly increasing his pressure. Well, with a loss of nearly fifty to sixty million dollars, directly ruining a film like "Fury", it was no wonder he felt this way.

We've all witnessed it, haven't we? John Woo, with his previous accomplishments in Hollywood, lost everything in an instant. He lost his footing and returned to Hong Kong empty-handed, never setting foot in Hollywood again.

"Cheers."

"Cheers..."

As the drinks ran out, the crowd dispersed. Lyman glanced at his watch; it was already late, and the number of people in the bar continued to decrease. "Let's go back. I'm going to the hotel."

After informing Nicholas, who casually nodded, they bypassed the revelers and walked toward the exit of the bar.

George had already arranged for some EuropaCorp staff to drive. The Chevrolet's engine started, drowning out the noisy night as they left. The sun rose and set, forever hanging high in the sky. What obstacle can't be overcome?

Regardless, tomorrow is always a brand new day, isn't it?