Appropriate humor on a tough and gritty filming set is like rain during a drought.
That's what his experience from countless shoots has taught him.
"Uhhahaha, have you really lost it?"
"Kukuk, you have to be at this level if you want to be nominated for an Emmy."
Ian, having been tickled by the staff's hands, wore a puzzled expression.
The other actors struggled to contain their laughter, while Ben laughed as if he was going to pass out.
"You can make a joke, what's there to laugh so much about."
It was a real blunder.
Caught up in the explosion, Ian didn't realize they were filming a behind-the-scenes video.
"Wow, there goes our precious filming budget."
Re-watching the video given by the staff, the actors shook their heads.
"It's still amazing to hear. To think there's someone who can say such things to Director Davies."
"Investors wouldn't even dare to say that."
Gavin is a director recognized for his special effects and cinematography, especially known for his explosion scenes.
To say such things to him, no matter how he thought about it, it's not a joke that can be made with ordinary courage.
"Ian."
Even Damian, who purposefully arrived late for the script reading, said with an admiring face.
"I shall bestow upon you the title of Baby Peacock."
'…I don't need it.'
He thought he would have to throw away the peacock doll in the car.
'Yeah, it was fascinating.'
Ian looked at the ruined set.
Fire engines were spraying water on the scene filled with dust, and police talking to the staff were seen, probably called by a resident startled by the loud noise.
It's a common sight in blockbuster movie shootings, but it felt strange to him.
'I've always been distanced from commercially strong blockbusters.'
Especially since, in the time he was seriously recognized as an actor, almost any scene could be done with CG, so he hardly had the chance to see such shoots.
That's why he was a bit excited.
"Man, I have to tell Dylan about this when I get back."
"Take it easy, man."
Of all people, to make such a mistake and give Ben something to tease about.
While bickering with Ben, a scary-looking man approached swiftly.
"Marcus?"
He was the bodyguard assigned by Breaker, handing over a cellphone he had been keeping during the shoot.
"There's a call from Nick Wilson."
"Nick?"
Ian felt a sense of foreboding and sighed as soon as he saw the phone.
It was a message of condolence.
***
Ian knew all too well how heavy the death of a family can be.
And the fact that ordinary people wouldn't have the fortune to meet again with family members who have said their eternal goodbyes.
"Is everything ready?"
"Yes."
Ian, having checked his suit again, got into the car and picked up the newspaper.
He unfolded the obituary section of the yellowed newspaper. Among unfamiliar faces, a familiar one appeared.
Bruno Wilson, aged 79.
The father of Charles, who had passed away before him, and Nick's grandfather. He was like a father and a friend, always embracing with love. Nick Wilson will cherish the memories left behind, loving and missing him forever. Reading the obituary commonly seen in the United States, a bitter smile formed.
'I'm better off, at least.'
Not even an obituary to speak of, being in the hospital and unable to properly conduct a funeral. Perhaps that's why the family couldn't be forgotten.
"Ian, you said you talked to Nick, right? How was it?"
"He seemed okay, over the phone."
"That's somewhat a relief."
Dylan, driving, glanced at Ian through the rearview mirror.
"Don't worry too much. Seeing him work under me, he doesn't seem like someone who'd easily break."
"I know. He's strong."
How could someone who overcame all adversities and eventually succeeded as an agent be weak?
Yet, believing he'll cope well and worrying are two different things.
Carefully entering the funeral home…
"You're here?"
Inside, lively jazz music played, and people laughed and talked while looking at pictures on the wall.
Approaching Nick, who waved lightly, with a bewildered face, Ian asked, "What's all this?"
"Grandpa wanted it this way. Especially to play his favorite jazz music. He even left it in his will."
Shaking his head at the unstoppable Nick, he gently pushed Ian's back.
"He really wanted you to be here. Want to take a look around?"
On the wall were pictures.
A young Bruno smiling brightly at a young Nick playing in a mini-pool, and next to it, a picture of an elderly Bruno in a wheelchair laughing with Nick, who seemed like he might burst the pool.
Ian moved on.
Pictures of a young Nick climbing a tree and of a grown Nick with the tree looking strained.
Photos from childhood memories shot in the same composition were displayed in a row.
"Sorry for not contacting you recently. I was busy taking these photos after receiving the song. How is it?"
"The neighbors must have thought it was strange."
"Senior said an agent has to be shameless."
"He teaches you well, I see."
So that's why he could lie so shamelessly in the future.
Austin wasn't kidding about switching to journalism.
"Austin, if you're a senior, you should teach good things. Nick might end up lying to clients, too."
"What?"
"When did I ever say that?!"
In the future?
As Nick playfully bickered, he glanced at his watch. The memorial service was about to start, and he had a favor to ask Ian.
"Can you also do the viewing later?"
Viewing was referred to the time at the end of the memorial service when attendees could see the deceased's face and say their final goodbyes one last time.
There must be a reason he specifically asked for this.
"Of course."
"Thanks."
The memorial service officially began in a traditional manner.
It started with a pastor's speech, and Nick, the only family, came forward to share memories of Bruno along with a Bible verse.
As people waited for the hymn to begin, the lights dimmed, and a screen lit up at the front.
-A special thanks to Rai for sending us this song.
The words, written in the hand of an aged man, appeared on the screen.
Over the gentle accompaniment, a delicate falsetto began to flow.
-I'm preparing to say goodbye~
The screen displayed the daily lives of two people taking pictures for the funeral, including scenes like Nick blowing up a mini pool and falling out, and Bruno, looking at him with a mix of exasperation and fondness, throwing him a pump.
As the video progressed, the happiness seen in the two began to change.
Bruno, coughing harshly and writhing in pain, was eventually seen lying in bed.
As the song neared its end, the screen showed the two facing each other, taking one last photo together.
"Thank you. Thanks to you, we had a happy time."
With Nick's words of gratitude, sobs could be heard from various places.
As the final part of the memorial service, the viewing, began, most people stood up.
Considering the participation was voluntary, it was unusual, and Ian approached Nick, who was standing in front of his grandparents' casket.
"I saw the video. It was touching."
"Thank you."
It was a moment that made one wonder if they could part as beautifully as these two someday.
After a brief greeting, Ian tiptoed to look into the casket.
"…Huh?"
His eyes widened.
As if wanting to show this smile, Bruno, wearing a pristine white suit and carrying a serene smile, looked like Nick's future self.
Surprised, Ian staggered slightly, grabbing the end of the casket, and a bright flash covered his eyes.
Blinking several times from the recurring event, Ian saw a framed photo of Bruno.
"Grandpa, I'm working as an agent again."
Nick stroked the frame as if reminiscing.
"You didn't know I lied, did you? I'll be a good agent from now on, so could you forgive me?"
Nick, unaware his lie had been caught, forced a smile.
"Actually, there's something else I need to apologize for. When I actually started working, I realized I didn't have the right clothes. So, I was thinking of borrowing some of the clothes you loved."
…Nick is indeed a liar.
The way he fiddled with his right earlobe gave it away.
Nick, standing up, was reflected in the mirror.
Dressed in a white suit, he resembled the young days of Hollywood's eccentric agent, Nick.
As the spinning view settled, Ian took a short breath.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, just a little dizzy. That's an unusual white suit, isn't it?"
"It was grandpa's favorite. Looks good, doesn't it?"
"Yeah, it suits him really well."
Ian, smiling in response, felt a hint of regret.
The eccentric of Hollywood who would even sleep in a white suit would now be seen no more.
And so, the memorial service came to an end.
***
-Aaaaah! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!
As the sound of flesh being torn echoed, a child's scream filled the air.
Zombies that had taken a life lifted their heads and roared fiercely.
-Kyaaaah!
In a moment charged with palpable hostility, the doctor, standing precariously on the rooftop, shouted furiously.
"Why! Why did you betray me?! You said you'd save me! That I didn't have to tremble with fear at the thought of growing up!"
"Shut up."
With a sneer, Noah pointed at the boy turned corpse with a logger's road.
"That's the salvation you talked about. A death rotting away without even becoming a zombie."
"No! That's not it!"
The doctor vehemently denied, prompting Noah to throw a sword at him.
Blood spurted from the leg the sword sliced through, and the fallen blade clanged loudly on the ground.
The sound of approaching zombies, attracted by the noise and the scent of blood, could be heard, and Noah stepped onto the wooden bridge Benjamin had left behind.
"Salvation? Enjoy it all you want. We're leaving this place."
-Aaaaah!
As Noah crossed over to the adjacent building, a desperate scream echoed.
"Cut!"
Following the director's cue, Ian sighed deeply, touching his throat, while Leo, playing young Benjamin, approached and asked, "Are you okay?"
"Sorry, my throat's been acting up lately. And I don't even have a cold."
"Hey, everyone has their off days. It's just that Ian's been unusual."
Despite having to call cut multiple times due to his throat condition, people smiled rather pleasantly.
"Ian's human after all. I thought you were an acting robot."
"A robot would have more errors than that."
Such remarks said it all.
However, despite the reactions from those around him, Ian was deeply troubled.
'If it were a physical illness, I'd understand. But it's strange that it's only my throat.'
He decided it might be best to visit a hospital soon.
After receiving well-wishes for his health, Ian got into his car and received a call on his way home.
"Nick?"
-Are you on your way?
"I am, but do I really need to come? After all, you said all the earnings from that would be donated."
It was common in American funerals to donate in lieu of giving condolence money.
Nick had uploaded the video from the funeral to YouTube and announced that all proceeds would be donated, which was why he did it.
-Just want to see it as a thank you. Why, is it a problem?
"No problem at all."
It was Nick, after all. There was no reason to refuse the meeting.
Upon arrival home, Ian blinked in surprise at the sight of Nick, who greeted him warmly.
"Nick, why are you dressed like that?"
"Does it look strange?"
Nick was wearing a pristine white suit. A sight Ian thought he'd never see again.
Scratching his head sheepishly, Nick continued as if making an excuse.
"Even with Rai around, I'm still pretty much a novice agent. I was thinking of ways to leave a memorable impression on others, and this came to mind."
Nick in a white suit.
"You've found your essence."
"…Essence?"
Indeed, if it were Nick, a white suit seemed fitting.
Pleased with Nick finding his "essence," Ian quickly approached and playfully tapped Nick's belly.
"Now you just need to get a bit rounder in the belly. Then it'd be perfect."
"If my belly sticks out here, it'd be weird."
"You need the belly. Looking like a moving bowling pin would be perfect for you."
"What?"
Taking Ian's serious comment as a joke, Nick tickled him.
"Ahahah! Ha-choo! Cough! Kuhk…"
"Ian?! Ian, are you okay?!"
As Ian, who burst into laughter, grabbed his throat and started coughing violently, Nick quickly picked him up. They needed to go to the hospital. Right away.
***
With a swivel of his chair, the doctor reviewed the examination results and spoke with a serious expression.
"It seems to be a case of voice change."
"Voice change?"
Ian asked with a slightly hoarse voice.
"Considering the condition of your larynx, it's likely a voice change period. You're experiencing pitch deviations, and straining it like now can lead to a hoarse voice, right?"
"…That's true."
Now that he mentioned it, that was the case. It was strange he hadn't suspected a voice change, but it made sense.
'I never had such a noisy voice change before.'
His current condition reminded him not of a typical voice change but of another time when he intensely trained his voice because he disliked his delicate falsetto.
It seemed the doctor also sensed something unusual about this voice change.
"You're an actor, right? I've never seen such a sensitive case of voice change before. You might need to come in for checks like this more often."
Leaving the hospital, Ian called Nick and his parents.
"…If it really is a voice change, that's a big problem."
"Why?"
"Because of Rai."
Rai's voice was a clear falsetto. After much effort, he had managed to switch between a deep tone and a gentle falsetto.
'Forget about what it'll be like when the voice change is over; I don't think I can even produce it now.'
Ian cleared his throat slightly and tried to mimic Rai's voice.
"It's not going to work… Huh?"
"Huh?"
…Why did it work?
It came out naturally, without any hint of pain in his throat.
Ian and Nick looked at each other, blinking in confusion.