Chapter 243: Hollywood Black and White Movie (Part 1) _1

Early in the morning, inside the office of Arkham Sanatorium, Shiller put the book in his hand down as Peter, with a backpack, stood at the door and knocked. Shiller looked up and said, "Come in."

"Doctor, I'm back," Peter announced, his spirits noticeably high. He walked in, took off his backpack, unzipped it and started rummaging around inside. After a while, he let out a yelp: "Ah, it's here!"

And with that, he pulled out a box from his backpack. Inside the clear square box was an old-fashioned video tape, the type you put in a hand-cranked projector.

Peter handed the tape to Shiller scratching his head a bit, and said rather sheepishly: "I thought you might like this."

Accepting the tape with a smile, Shiller said, "More than the gift, I'm curious about how your trip to Hollywood went."

Peter made a funny face, with one eyebrow raised higher than the other, creating a comical facial expression that was a trademark of Spider-Man in the comics.

With a sigh, Peter said, "Well, that's a long story."

As Shiller started unwrapping the old video tape, he said, "No rush, we can watch an old movie and talk about it."

Looking at the unboxed old film tape, Peter said, "This is quite the antique. I doubt modern movie projectors could even play it?"

"You should know, who would have a projector that could play this thing..."

As the morning light began to get brighter, it transitioned through mid-morning, noon, and into the drowsy afternoon.

With a "click," Steve bent down and readjusted the stand of the old movie projector, then motioned towards the window.

Stark, cursing and muttering, walked to the window to pull the curtains closed. Shiller sat on one side of the couch, clinking glasses with Connors on the next seat over. Meanwhile, Natasha fidgeted with a little golden-shaped Oscars statue.

"Seriously, apart from this old fellow, who else would enjoy playing these vintage films on such a cruddy machine?"

After Stark finished saying that, everyone in the room looked up at him. Stark, taken aback, wondered, "Don't tell me I'm the only one here who doesn't want to watch?"

"Honestly, with this time, why wouldn't I go and contribute something new to the human civilization?"

As Stark muttered and grumbled, he sat down on the sofa. Steve, standing behind the sofa, fiddled with the projector's button. As the black-and-white image was projected onto the wall in front of them, Steve walked over and sat down on the sofa.

Accompanied by the sprightly jazz from the mid-century film in Shiller's view, the items in the room started to fade in color. The fabric of the couch gradually smoothened out and the leather couch's glossiness spread from one corner until it covered the entire couch.

The lamp stand stretched up, the retro patterns on the glass lampshade climbed onto it like vines, the alloy window frame gave way to the spreading of old wood grain, the sun shooting into the room became dimmer and dimmer, until the sun finally laid below the horizon line and the "thump, thump" of knocking on the door could be heard.

Standing outside the door was Bruce, Shiller put down the pen in his hand, stood up and looked at him, asking, "Your Hollywood trip ended?"

Bruce pressed his lips together, his expression seemed to be a bit strange. Shiller asked, "What's wrong? Is Selina not adapting well?"

"She's adapting very well," Bruce's tone was somewhat subdued, but it carried a hint of complexity.

"It seems like you're the one who's not adapting then?"

Bruce didn't say anything. He took a beautifully packaged wooden box out of his bag, handed it to Shiller and said, "… A souvenir, Professor."

As Shiller accepted the box, looked at the old tape inside, and asked, "How did you know I have an old projector in my mansion?... Oh, forget it, that question was a bit silly."

With a "click," Harvey twisted the stand of the projector into the right position and then aimed the head at the wall. Victor put down his wine glass, leaned back on the soft leather sofa. Gordon lit a cigar for Shiller and then for himself, exhaling a puff of smoke.

Bruce in a single-seater sofa on the side, was squinting his eyes, looking a bit sleepy as if he were a bat napping in a cave.

As the projector switched on and images started projecting on the wall, the cheerful orchestra music began to deepen. After the drumbeat and percussion kicked in, amidst the roaring of the sports car engine, the sound of wind howled.

"Wow!!" Selina crawled out of the seat belt, half her body hanging out of the convertible's door. Bruce, who was driving, quickly pulled her back and let out a sigh.

He had sighed for more than 30 times on this stretch of road already. Leaning on the car door, Selina looked up and blew a bubble gum bubble, then turned to Bruce and said, "Can I be honest? When you took off your mask, I really was taken back. You turned out to be Bruce Wayne."

"I thought you knew all along."

"I knew you were rich, but I didn't expect you to be so rich." Selina propped her temple with her fingers, munching on bubble gum as she spoke: "But taking me to Hollywood to shoot a movie, isn't that a bit ridiculous?"

Selina said casually: "I've snuck into a movie theater before, I think I look similar to those actresses on the screen, but..."

Her tone became hesitant: "Alright, I admit, I'm just a girl from the slums. I've never been in the spotlight before, I might get frightened and tremble in front of so many cameras."

"I just want to give you something legitimate to do." Bruce turned the steering wheel, rounding a bend, and said, "As long as you don't go stealing anything, no one will question your status on set, because I'm the one funding the entire movie..."

Selina first glanced at the fast-retreating scenery outside the car window, and then, with wide eyes, looked at Bruce and said, "You're really good to me."

Bruce's hand, gripping the steering wheel, stiffened for a moment. Noticing his reaction, Selina deliberately leaned towards him and said, "You can get nervous too? That's really something."

"Even if I haven't experienced your rich folks' lifestyles, I know you must have had many women. Do you act the same way around them?"

Bruce averted his head, avoiding Selina who had snuggled up to him. He slowed the car and said, "We've arrived in Hollywood... Look over there."

Following Bruce's line of sight, Selina saw white giant letters appearing on the green hillside in the distance—"HOLLYWOOD".

At that moment, behind the letters, the sun was slowly sinking below the horizon, clouds in the sky were changing rapidly, sliding into the night, and emerging at dawn. As the morning light seeped through from behind the letters, Peter at the side of the car covered Gwen with a blanket, pointing to the row of letters and saying, "Look, we're here."

Gwen's smiling face looked particularly bright in the morning sun, nearly stunning Peter. Seeing Peter's dazed expression, Gwen laughed, saying, "Do you know how red your face is?"

Peter awkwardly turned his head forward, rubbing his face with his hands. Immediately afterward, he lifted up the hair on his forehead with both hands, staring at the morning light, looking at the white letters on the hillside.

"I heard that originally, a real estate developer erected this billboard to promote his housing."

"But now, the rights to it should belong to the Los Angeles city government." Gwen smoothed back her long hair by the temple and said, "The reason I wanted to visit Hollywood is because I saw this billboard in a movie when I was little. I even fantasized about replacing it with my own name."

"You want to put your name up there, that large, on the hillside?" Peter stared at Gwen as if he had never met her.

Gwen laughed till she was almost out of breath, patting Peter's shoulder with one hand and saying, "I was like that when I was little, my dad even made a few white letters from cardboard and put them on my windowsill to cheer me up. Seriously though, don't you want to?"

Gwen rested a hand on Peter's shoulder, stretching out the other hand, pointing to the billboard and saying, "As soon as people drive down this road, they would be able to see your name. Many would even stop their car to take pictures like us..."

"Wait a minute!" Peter turned his head and said, "Speaking of stopping... Aren't we not allowed to park here???"

Just as he finished speaking, he saw a couple of uniformed traffic officers come over, urging the tourists who had parked here to move on. Gwen quickly grabbed Peter's arm and said, "Get in the car! I don't want a ticket!"

The two of them hurriedly opened the car door and got in. Peter started the vehicle and stepped on the gas. He heard the screams of those who had been fined for running too slowly. The two of them caught each other's eyes and broke into bright laughter.

The car looked extremely small on the long, stretch of road. At the end of the horizon, the sunlight was blocked by the cloud and the dark fell. With a "pop", a ticket was stuck to the side of the convertible.

Bruce propped one arm outside the car door, a wad of banknotes in his hand. With the other hand, he took a cigarette from Selina to light his own.

The traffic officer, feeling the unusually thick wad of money in his hand, smiled at Bruce and said, "You can stay and watch as long as you want, sir, have a good journey."

Without looking at him, Bruce stared into the blend of the smoke and the setting sun on the horizon holding his cigarette and said, "Now you can look as long as you want."

Selina swung open the car door and walked to the roadside, stretched, yawned, and squinting into the dusk, she said, "I really didn't expect such a day when I could stay in the same place as those protagonists in the movies..."

A coat was thrown out from the car, landing on Selina. She turned her head to look at Bruce who was still seated in the driver's seat and said, "You're perfect in so many ways, especially being rich..."

Selina turned around, propped her arm on the car door, leaned her upper body back into the car, and said, "But I always feel that Bruce Wayne I've read about in the newspapers isn't like this. They say you have a bunch of cronies, that you're raucous, and a playboy, that every woman falls for you..."

"But why do I feel that you can't let loose at all, that you're always nervous, and..." Selina opened the car door and got back in, then got close to Bruce, playfully blowing air into his ear, saying, "...and a little bit shy?"

Looking at Bruce's suddenly stiff neck, Selina blinked and said, "You're truly a mystery. Compared to a bat, I think you're more like a ball of twine, my dear sir."

"Isn't that perfect?" Bruce looked back at her, his deep blue eyes clearer than the West Coast sky when they looked at Selina.

"You, my lady, are just like a cat."