Crew Infighting

As the time drew closer to noon, the sun's power grew stronger, and the air was filled with a dry, scorching dusty smell, as if a deep breath could ignite the entire lungs. The shimmering heat waves began to distort and blur the vision; it was hard to imagine it was already October!

Just standing outside for five minutes to make a phone call, Paul's back started sweating. He hung up the phone and quickly walked into the studio. The moment he stepped inside, the lack of sunlight instantly cooled the room, and a refreshing breeze seemed to flow around. But the sticky feeling on his skin persisted, becoming even more tense. The palpable anxiety in the air made the atmosphere inside a mix of fear and nervousness.

Everyone in Paul's line of sight was busy, hastily making final preparations for the afternoon shoot. But today, their behavior was slightly unusual. Each person moved quickly and silently, careful not to make any noise, focusing meticulously on their tasks. Simultaneously, their peripheral vision constantly communicated silently, glancing occasionally in the same direction, mouthing words, and then swiftly averting their gaze to continue with their work.

"Paul, Paul." An assistant from the production crew hurried over, as if seeing a savior, firmly grasping Paul. "Vin is in a bad mood today, very bad. He just knocked over the coffee of the director and actor teams and broke two chairs in the makeup team. He's still on the phone, refusing to put on makeup. Justin is about to arrive, and we're not at all prepared. What should we do?" Here, Justin refers to the director, Justin Lin.

It was a disaster; today's start was an utter disaster. There were less than ten minutes left until the scheduled start time, but the set was still a mess. Preparations hadn't even begun, and everyone was anxious and uneasy. If things continued like this, responsibility would be traced layer by layer, and the ones who'd suffer in the end would be these low-level staff.

More importantly, if no one could appease Vin, the work would continue to be interrupted.

Following everyone's line of sight, Paul easily spotted Vin, who was making a call near the makeup area. At that moment, Vin looked like an angry bull, pacing around, agitatedly looking for a target to attack. His contorted, grimacing face made people avoid him, clearing a large space around him.

In the past, Paul would have undoubtedly gone to calm Vin down and appease the staff to get the crew back on track. But today, Paul didn't want to clean up Vin's mess. "Ignore him; let him calm down. Once Justin gets here, he'll be back to normal."

The assistant stared at Paul in disbelief.

The usually kind and sunny Paul, what was up with him today? How did he suddenly become so indifferent? Seeing Paul coldly turn around and walk in another direction without saying a word, the assistant felt a blow to their worldview, which was even more terrifying than Vin's tantrum.

Is this the end of the world? What on earth is going on today?

Paul moved to another resting corner, sat down, and started chatting enthusiastically with Jordana Brewster, Sung Kang, and Tyrese Gibson about fun stories from the previous night and this afternoon. The atmosphere immediately became lively.

On one side was high pressure, and on the other, low pressure. The barometric map inside the studio became odd. The staff became more cautious, and unknowingly, most of them began moving towards the resting area, while the temperature in the makeup area seemed to gradually drop.

Vin hung up the phone with a slam and immediately threw the phone onto the ground. With a crisp "bang," the phone screen shattered like a spider web, but the back seemed undamaged. Vin, feeling insulted, stomped on the phone twice with his heel. A moment ago, the intact phone was now just a pile of scrap metal.

But Vin still wasn't satisfied. He looked up, watching the staff detouring around him, noticing the stark contrast between the makeup and resting areas. His anger was spiraling out of control, like a runaway horse.

Vin stormed towards the resting area, his overwhelming momentum akin to a meteorite collision. It seemed a cosmic explosion was imminent. Everyone held their breath, "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You/you all" – In English, "you" has dual meanings. With Vin's abrupt accusation, the large group didn't know whom he was addressing. For a moment, everyone froze, their laughter suspended in the air, their eyes collectively turning to Vin.

Vin felt like he was standing on the opposite side of the world, with everyone against him. This feeling was utterly terrible. He stared at Paul, because he knew that within the entire crew, only Paul could truly confront him.

"What a lovely day," Paul responded coolly. There was no deliberate anger, but his concise words were sharp. Paul usually didn't like to get angry, but everyone knew that once this good guy got mad, it was serious.

"Cut the crap!" Vin retorted, "You damn well know I don't mean that. What do you mean? Are you trying to go against me or show off your abilities?" Vin's words were simple, repeating the same phrases. For him, body language was more effective than verbal disputes.

Paul was also angry. Renly had initially stopped him from arguing with Vin, since Renly didn't seem to mind too much. But now, Vin was still being aggressive, which made no sense.

Paul was straightforward, not fond of beating around the bush. He stood up abruptly, "You know what I mean! Do you know what you're doing? Such pranks are childish, shameless, cowardly, idiotic, foolish, and ridiculous! If you have an opinion, you can say it openly. There's no need to be sneaky. It makes you look like a petty person!"

Vin's eyes rolled in exasperation, "It's just training day!"

Training day is an LAPD slang, referring to a rookie's first day on the job, where experienced officers give them a bit of a shock to help them adjust to police life. This day is known as training day.

"Bullshit!" Paul fired back, "You're full of it! You just don't like your authority being challenged! You refuse to acknowledge anyone else's strong position! You're a self-centered egomaniac! No, I'm wrong; you're just a kid afraid someone will take away your toys! Yes, you heard me, a kid!"

The other actors nearby held their breath. This side of Paul was unfamiliar to them; such a dispute was even more foreign. For a moment, everyone was at a loss, completely stunned.

Vin gritted his teeth. He wasn't skilled in verbal disputes, his fists clenched tightly, his muscles tense, ready to strike. The looming threat made everyone feel suffocated.

However, Paul wasn't scared at all. He didn't step back; instead, he took two steps forward, his fists clenched, ready to fight.

Vin disliked his authority being challenged, first by Renly, and now by Paul. Who would be next?

Paul disliked Vin's self-centered behavior. Today it was Renly, but tomorrow it could be any newcomer in the crew.

Actually, this wasn't about Renly anymore.

"Yes, I don't like him! To be precise, he disgusts me!" Vin held back, not because Paul was a ten-year friend, but because Paul was an irreplaceable pillar of the Fast and Furious series. If they fell out, Paul might not be affected much, but as a producer, it would be fatal for him. So he eventually loosened his fists.

Looking around, Vin soon saw Renly standing at the edge of the set, chatting with the photographer's assistant. They were a bit far, and the conversation was not very audible, but they seemed relaxed and engaged.

"What's with his attitude? Who's he trying to fool? He's not Marlon Brando or Meryl Streep. What's the point of this act? We all know he got his start by selling himself; it's an open secret. Why the pretense of being so noble?"

Vin's words were crude, nearly every sentence laced with vulgarity, mocking and cutting, leaving no room for decency.

"So, what should he do? Sit there and sleep? Daydream? Snack? And then forget his lines when it's time?" Paul's retort hit Vin where it hurt, "You don't like him because you know you can't be him!"

Before Paul could finish, Vin swung his fist, but Paul was prepared. He sidestepped and pushed with his left hand—Vin clearly hadn't expected Paul to fight back. This momentary stiffness led to a delayed reaction. He stumbled a few steps to avoid falling flat on his face.

"You son of a bitch!" Vin was utterly enraged. He didn't care about Paul's importance or the crew's fate; he charged with his fists, but by then, the staff had reacted and rushed to separate the two.

Yet Vin refused to relent, struggling to break free, wanting to continue the fight. Then a stern voice echoed nearby, "What the hell are you doing?"

Turning around, the director and producers had arrived on the scene.