Global Best Actor: Starting with Picking Up Attributes in America

"Things are fine back home too!"

Chen Xun finally said something dry and uninspired.

He felt the last banknote in his pocket.

He suddenly stood up.

"Just wait!"

He said to Shen Man.

His voice was a little hoarse: "It's a graduation ceremony after all, so even if there's no champagne, there should at least be some beer."

Without waiting for Shen Man's response, he slipped on his flip-flops and went downstairs.

The nights in Los Angeles are not peaceful.

Especially Koreatown.

The neon signs flashed with Korean characters that I couldn't understand.

The smell of cooking oil from the barbecue restaurant mixed with the pungent odor of marijuana from the roadside stalls.

The 24-hour 711-Eleven on the street corner was brightly lit.

Like a tireless lighthouse, it illuminates the way for countless homeless people and drunkards returning home at night.

And strangers like Chen Xun, who harbor dreams but stumble along the way.

He walked into the convenience store, and was immediately hit by a blast of cold air.

The display case, filled with a dazzling array of craft beers, seemed to beckon to him.

His eyes swept over the price tags.

In the end, I ended up in the cheapest section at the bottom, the one with the Blue Eagle logo.

Budweiser beer.

Nine dollars and ninety-nine cents, six cans.

Cheap, large portions, and filling!

It is a favorite among poor students and low-level blue-collar workers.

"That was a fucking Hollywood-style lavish farewell party."

He chuckled self-deprecatingly.

Pick up a dozen.

I also grabbed a bag of discounted potato chips.

I just managed to spend all twenty dollars.

Back at the apartment.

Shen Man had tidied up the coffee table a bit, revealing the severely worn wood grain underneath.

Seeing the Budweiser in Chen Xun's hand.

She paused for a moment, then burst out laughing:

"Okay, that's down-to-earth! Much better than those fancy but empty things."

"Bang!"

Chen Xun opened a can and handed it to her.

Foam welled up and soaked his fingers.

I opened a can myself and took a big gulp.

It's so cold!

The slightly bitter liquid slid down my throat, temporarily suppressing the frustration in my heart.

The two drank in silence.

I could hear the occasional sirens of police cars outside the window.

That's the background music for Los Angeles Eternal.

"Do you remember?"

Shen Man suddenly spoke, her eyes somewhat unfocused, staring at the familiar water stain on the ceiling:

"Three years ago, we came on the same flight. At the airport, you almost followed the wrong person to pick you up."

Chen Xun smiled too, but with a hint of bitterness:

"How could I not remember? You used to laugh at me for my poor English, saying I couldn't even understand the baggage carousel."

At that time, they dragged huge suitcases, their eyes filled with the entire starry sky.

USC's campus looks like it's been gilded.

Posters for "The Godfather" and "Taxi Driver" are pasted above my bed.

They were talking about Spielberg and Nolan, and felt that they were the next Ang Lee, a trendsetter who was about to set off a Hollywood storm.

"And the result?"

Shen Man took another swig of wine:

"The storm didn't even really start, and we almost got swept away on the beach, damn it! Just thinking about that damn indie crew makes me angry!"

She was talking about an experience that almost completely broke her down.

A shady film crew claiming to shoot "art films" tricked her into becoming a production assistant on set.

Halfway through filming, the white director, who kept saying "Brother, I've got you covered," ran off with the remaining budget.

They even left Shen Man alone at the filming location in the middle of nowhere, where she was almost bullied by some local thugs with ill intentions.

"If you hadn't answered my call that day, you wouldn't have driven over like an idiot..."

Shen Man's voice was a little choked up:

"The way you fought with those guys was fucking ugly, not at all as dashing as in John Woo's movies."

Chen Xun touched the corner of his mouth.

The pain from when it was shattered still seems to linger there.

He received a major demerit from the school because of that fight.

The already precarious visa situation was further exacerbated, and he ultimately failed to graduate.

But he never regretted it.

"I can't just stand by and watch you get bullied!"

Chen Xun said sullenly, and opened another can of beer.

The effects of the alcohol began to rise, and my body felt lightheaded.

Those deliberately suppressed emotions also began to loosen.

"Tell me, what are we working so hard for?"

Shen Man leaned back on the sofa, her cheeks flushed.

"Are you after a windowless apartment that costs $400 a month, a corpse performance fee of $20 a day, or being insulted for having an Asian face?"

No one can answer.

One beer can after another was emptied.

"Chen Xun... I can't hold on anymore... I'm so tired..."

Shen Man finally broke down in tears, shedding all pretense.

Chen Xun wanted to comfort her, but his own vision began to blur.

He moved over and awkwardly patted her back.

It's unclear who approached first, but their breaths, heavy with the smell of alcohol, mingled together.

Confused and infatuated.

Everything happened naturally.

On that creaky, secondhand sofa.

Two young and weary bodies were tightly intertwined, as if to prove to each other that they still existed and were still alive.

His actions were fueled by alcohol-induced brutality and a deep-seated sorrow.

"You got off easy..."

In the most intense moment, Shen Man whispered in his ear, her voice trembling with tears:

"You bastard, live on! Show me what Hollywood is really like..."

Chen Xun could no longer hear clearly.

He only felt a dizzying sensation as the world spun around him and the emptiness that followed his release, before sinking into boundless darkness.

……

The next morning.

Chen Xun was awakened by a terrible headache.

The nausea from the hangover instantly rose to my throat.

He sat up, rubbing his forehead, the blanket slipping off his body and revealing his bare upper body.

The sofa still bore the messy marks left from yesterday's battle.

Fragments of last night's memories flooded back into my mind.

Beer, tears, sobs, hugs, burning skin...

"Shen Man?" he called out hoarsely.

No one responded.

The living room was eerily quiet.

He suddenly looked around.

The packed cardboard boxes are gone.

The coffee table was empty except for a few empty beer cans and the unfinished bag of potato chips.

Shen Man's room door was open.

It was completely empty inside.

There wasn't even a sheet left on the mattress; only the bare springs remained.

It was as if she had never existed.

Only in the corner of the coffee table was there a piece of paper torn from a notebook.

Above is Shen Manjuan's neat yet slightly messy handwriting:

"Chen Xun, I'm leaving."

Don't see me off, and don't say goodbye. That's too sentimental.

Let's consider last night's events as a Hollywood-style happy ending to these messed-up years.

I left the money on your bedside table. It wasn't from me; it's what you earned yesterday!

"Keep my dream alive!"

Chen Xun rushed back to his pigeon coop.

Beside the pillow, two twenty-dollar bills were carefully folded together and lay there quietly.

He looked at the forty dollars.

He glanced again at the flimsy piece of paper in his hand.

They felt so heavy that I could barely hold them.

The room still had a faint scent of the cheap shampoo that Shen Man often used.

But the person had already disappeared into the morning traffic of Los Angeles, flying to their hometown 10,000 kilometers away.

Just then!

His old, secondhand cell phone rang shrilly.

A note flashed on the screen: Foreman Jerry.

Jerry is a middleman.

They specialize in recruiting extras for various low-level film crews, taking a hefty cut, but at least there's plenty of work.

Chen Xun took a deep breath, answered the phone, and tried to make his voice sound clear:

"Jerry."

Hey! China Boy!

Jerry's loud voice carries a typical, unpretentious, working-class Hollywood vibe:

"You did a great job on 'L.A. Cop' yesterday! That tall, skinny assistant director, Rob, just contacted me and said he needs you for a job today!"

Chen Xun's heart skipped a beat.

"You specifically asked for me?"

"Yes! It's still a background scene, but this time it's an interactive one. In a coffee shop scene, you're a customer, and there might be a blurry profile or the back of your head in the shot."

"Eighty a day, cash! Want to go?"

"go!"

Chen Xun did not hesitate at all.

Eighty dollars!

This is the highest-paying extra job he's been offered so far!

And it was the assistant director who remembered him.

This in itself is a breakthrough.