Chapter 236: Only Madness in Madness

"Excuse me, what is the capital of Venezuela?"

On stage, facing the last question of the talent show's Q&A segment, Gal Gadot pondered for a moment before giving her answer, "Caracas."

"Correct answer!"

Following this routine verdict, a thunderous applause filled the competition hall. Murphy and Kara Fes, sitting beside him, clapped vigorously, along with the support team Kara Fes had gathered, even displaying a banner proclaiming "Gal Gadot for Miss Universe."

"If I had to choose," Kara Fes whispered, "Gal would definitely be Miss Universe this edition."

Murphy, however, shook his head, "Unfortunately, the judges' criteria differ from ours, and deciding the winner of Miss Universe involves more than just the stage performance."

Gal Gadot's performance that afternoon was near perfect, though this assessment might be colored by Murphy's personal bias. She was on par with the most outstanding contestants, especially in the Q&A segment where she answered every question correctly.

Including the swimsuit and evening gown segments, she showed barely any flaws except for a slight naivety.

But Murphy understood that, let alone winning Miss Universe, even making it to the top fifteen would be a stretch for Gal Gadot.

As he had said earlier, the decision involved more than just stage performance. Training attitude, the spirit of active pursuit, and other factors also influenced the final outcome.

In these aspects, Gal Gadot was average at best. Her training regimen, evident from the fact that she could sneak out to meet with Murphy, was sporadic at best, and her spirit of active pursuit was even less evident. She treated the competition as a learning and travel experience, which was apparent to the organizers. Giving her the title of Miss Universe would be...

Murphy sighed at this thought. Gal Gadot was well aware of these factors and would likely not be heartbroken even if eliminated.

As expected, when the hosts announced the results, Gal Gadot's name wasn't among the top fifteen.

The day's competition concluded, and like the others, Murphy stood up to leave.

"I'll go backstage in a bit," he asked Kara Fes in a low voice, "Are you coming?"

Kara Fes shook her head, "I've arranged to meet with Paul Anderson tonight about 'Alien vs. Predator'."

Her project, though facing many obstacles, was making steady progress and the film's title was confirmed.

"Are you not attending the party tonight?" Murphy asked again.

Kara Fes nodded slightly, "I won't go."

The organizers were hosting a thank-you party at the same club as last time. Murphy's VIP ticket also served as an invitation to this charity party, mandatory for all contestants, including Gal Gadot, as per their contracts.

Leaving the competition hall, Murphy headed backstage. Like many others seeking someone backstage, the majority were men – after all, this was the Miss Universe competition, not Mr. Universe.

Everyone was stopped, including Murphy, who waited there, knowing Gal Gadot would expect him, as she had sent a message earlier.

"Wait for me for five minutes."

Murphy would have waited patiently even for five hours.

Just over five minutes later, Gal Gadot, now in a white T-shirt and capris, emerged from a backstage door wearing a baseball cap.

"Over here," Murphy waved to her.

Quickening her steps, Gal Gadot ignored the stares directed at her long legs and jogged over to Murphy. Seeing his open arms, she first hugged him, then stood on tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the lips.

This wasn't the place for a long conversation. Murphy, taking Gal Gadot's hand, led her outside, keeping an eye on her expression.

"What are you looking at?" she asked, touching her makeup-free face, "Do I look ugly without makeup?"

"Of course not," Murphy replied quickly, "You look even more beautiful without makeup. Naturally fresh and beautiful."

He gave her another look, saying playfully, "I wanted to see if your eyes were red from crying."

"Do you think I would cry over this?" Gal Gadot squeezed his hand firmly, "Being eliminated isn't the end of the world."

They continued talking as they left the building, only to be surrounded outside.

Many reporters and paparazzi, typical in Los Angeles, swarmed them upon seeing Murphy and Gal Gadot.

"That's Murphy Stanton, the director of 'Saw' and 'Sin City,'" a sharp-eyed reporter recognized Murphy.

Another well-informed person shouted, "And that must be Miss Israel, Gal Gadot!"

Their cameras were faster than their mouths, flashes lighting up the scene.

Murphy knew how persistent these people could be. Being trapped by them meant no easy escape. Before they could get close, he shielded Gal Gadot from them, forming a barrier between her and the reporters.

"We should go back," he said quickly.

There was no one to assist them, moving forward would be akin to diving into a lion's den.

Having experienced harassment from paparazzi more than once since attending the event with Murphy, Gal Gadot knew how annoying they could be. Without hesitation, she retreated with Murphy's cover.

Back at the theater, Murphy pulled Gal Gadot and ran back inside.

"We should use the main entrance this time."

They stopped at a security-guarded area. Murphy then called Kara Fes, "Have you left? If not, can you take Gal and me to the hotel?"

Re-entering the theater's lobby, they blended with the dispersing crowd, this time much more quietly. Gal Gadot, curious, asked, "Weren't you a journalist before? Is it always this crazy in the profession?"

Exiting the theater, where the media focused more on high-profile celebrities and didn't notice Murphy and Gal Gadot among the ordinary audience, Murphy saw Kara Fes' BMW. Taking Gal Gadot's hand, he walked toward it, explaining, "Entertainment paparazzi are always crazy, but journalists in social news only go crazy when it's necessary."

Reaching the BMW, Murphy knocked on the passenger window before opening the back door and getting in with Gal Gadot.

"You were a journalist," Kara Fes started the car, moving away from the theater, "and you didn't think to blend with the crowd at a time like this?"

Murphy shook his head, "I overthought it."

"Kara," Gal Gadot, leaning over the seat, asked, "Aren't you coming to the party tonight?"

"I have other plans," Kara Fes replied, glancing at Murphy and Gal Gadot in the rearview mirror, "I won't intrude on you two."

She had shopped with Gal Gadot a few times and got along well with her, preferring her over a previous impulsive British girl.

After dropping Murphy and Gal Gadot off at the hotel, Kara Fes left.

Crossing the hotel lobby to the elevator, they were among the earliest returnees, not encountering other contestants. Standing together, Murphy and Gal Gadot waited patiently for the elevator.

"Aren't you changing into a suit?" Gal Gadot asked, noticing Murphy's casual attire, "You're attending the party like this?"

Raised with good manners, she knew it was impolite to attend such charity dinners in casual clothes.

"I rented a room on the top floor," Murphy indicated upward with his finger, "I've got my clothes there."

"Oh..." Gal Gadot's momentary alertness vanished, "What made you decide to stay at a hotel?"

As the elevator arrived, Murphy, holding her hand, stepped in, standing behind Gal Gadot and kissing her neck gently, "To be closer to you."

Gal Gadot glanced at Murphy through the reflective elevator door but remained silent. When the elevator reached her floor, she turned, stopping Murphy from following, "You go change. We'll meet in the lobby in an hour."

Accepting her decision, Murphy nodded and watched her leave. He rested for half an hour in his top-floor suite, then dressed in formal wear and went downstairs to wait for Gal Gadot in the lobby, choosing a sofa with a view of the elevator exit.

During this time, he called for a car, knowing the charity event would have a red carpet ceremony and that a chauffeured service would be more convenient.

Gal Gadot, punctual as always, appeared five minutes before the hour, looking enchanting in a black evening dress that accentuated her long, straight legs.

Although she lacked the polish of the goddess in his memories, to Murphy, Gal Gadot was nearly perfect.

"My dear," he greeted her with a gentle kiss on the cheek, "You look stunning."

Gal Gadot pulled back slightly, careful of her makeup, "Don't smear it."

Though it looked light, Murphy knew such dinner makeup was intricate. His phone buzzed, and he looked down, "The car's here, let's go."

Arm in arm, they left the hotel for the party venue.

The roads became congested as they approached, filled with luxury cars carrying celebrities.

The organizers had set up a long red carpet outside the venue, with numerous media reporters on either side, for publicity and exposure.

Not his film premiere, Murphy had no interest in playing along. He quickly escorted Gal Gadot across the carpet into the club, reaching a grand banquet hall where the party's organizer, Donald Trump, greeted guests.

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