152: Chapter 157 Sidney's "Lovely"

Leaving Paris.

The MV was shot at a film studio in the San Fernando Valley, where the director rented an entire abandoned apartment building as the set.

"Lovely" is Chen Mo's newly written single, a lyrical song about loneliness and companionship, written for everyone who has spent time alone in the deep of night.

Sydney stood on the steps at the entrance of the apartment building, wearing a white tank top and jeans, no makeup, her golden curls falling loosely over her shoulders.

At this time, Sydney was still a newcomer who had just entered the film industry.

She saw Chen Mo get out of the car and proactively reached out, her fingers long and slender, with distinct knuckles.

"I'm Sydney, you're more handsome than on TV."

"You're taller than on TV; the camera makes you look shorter."

She laughed, her blue eyes squinting slightly in the Los Angeles sun, looking curiously at this legendary superstar.

The director shouted to the lighting technician to adjust the reflector nearby, and the two turned their heads to look at the set at the same time, their arms almost touching.

The director called the two to the monitor.

"The concept of the MV is very simple: two lonely people in parallel worlds. You are in the same room, but in different timelines. She came and left; you arrived, and she had just left. You will never meet, but you will feel each other's presence."

"Finally, there is a shot where you are finally in the same room at the moment the timelines overlap. She looks at you, reaches out, you don't take her hand, and she pulls it back. Just this one look, understand?"

They shot three takes.

In the first take, the angle of Sydney's reach was off, and the director said to do it again.

In the second take, Chen Mo's Adam's apple moved when he was supposed to be silent, and the director said, "Keep that swallowing action, but let's do one more."

In the third take, Sydney reached out, Chen Mo didn't move, and her hand stayed in mid-air for several seconds before she pulled it back, curling her fingertips first, then her palm, then her arm.

The director said from behind the monitor, "That's a wrap."

The first day of shooting ended, and the set was noisy.

Sydney sat down next to Chen Mo, holding a half-drunk bottle of mineral water, her forehead still dotted with water droplets sprayed by the makeup artist for the rain scene just now.

"Who were you thinking of when you wrote 'Lovely'?" Sydney turned her head to look at Chen Mo, her eyes holding something ambiguous.

"No one. I was thinking about the feeling of being alone. A recording studio in the early morning, the lights off, only the indicator lights of the mixing console on, realizing that you are actually alone in this world, but that kind of loneliness isn't painful; it's more of a quietness."

"Then are you alone now?" Sydney asked with a probing smile.

"Right now, it's two people." Chen Mo turned his head and looked at her.

Sydney lowered her head and gently scraped the edge of the mineral water bottle label with her thumbnail.

The label was torn with a very thin slit, and then she lifted her eyes to look at him.

"Two people, it's 'two people'. You speak very precisely, just like writing lyrics, every word is interesting. When you said 'two people' just now, were you saying it's just us now, or were you saying that this song needs two people?"

"Both, but mainly the present." Chen Mo said candidly.

Sydney placed the mineral water bottle on the floor between them without screwing the cap on, the water swaying slightly at the mouth of the bottle.

The shooting location was far from Chen Mo's apartment, so Scott had booked a suite nearby.

After shooting on the second day, it was already past ten o'clock at night.

Chen Mo returned to the hotel, took a shower, and changed into a gray T-shirt. The doorbell rang.

Sydney stood at the door, holding a bottle of red wine, having changed into a black hoodie. Her hair still carried the dampness of a fresh shower, a few strands of golden curls clinging to her neck.

"Want a drink?" Her tone was as natural as if she were returning home.

"No." Chen Mo said, stepping aside to open the door.

She walked in, put the wine on the table, and said, "Then I will."

Sydney sat on the sofa, poured herself a glass, picked it up, took a sip, and then set the glass down.

Outside the window, the distant lights of the San Fernando Valley shone in the night, and then the two were silent for a long time, or rather, testing each other.

Her fingers holding the wine glass tapped gently on the rim twice, then she put the glass down and turned to him.

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

"I know."

Sydney crossed her legs, her knees tilting slightly towards him.

"So you have nothing to say? Last night, as I sat on the floor of the set, you told me 'It's two people now'. I went back and thought about that sentence for a long time."

She looked up at Chen Mo, her eyes burning like the sun, carrying an unquestionable intimacy.

"Chen Mo, I don't like beating around the bush. I think you're good-looking, I think you're smart, I think you're different from everyone I've ever met." Sydney touched the back of his hand, her fingertips slightly cool.

Chen Mo looked at her. He had never met a girl like this before, burning towards him regardless of everything, giving him no room to dodge.

He was inexplicably at a loss, having to let her hold his hand, feeling her pounding heart.

"I came to find you tonight." She said, every word distinct, "Not to drink."

Chen Mo did not pull his hand away.

He looked at her. A beauty under the lamp, looking at the shadows cast by her eyelashes, and her cold white skin.

Sydney was still holding his hand, her voice carrying a hint of coquettishness as she asked, "Do you have any appointments tomorrow morning?"

"No, a flight at noon." Chen Mo said.

Chen Mo's eyes were deep and charming, making her dizzy, and she mindlessly traced his eyebrows and eyes with her fingertips.

Chen Mo asked in a low voice, "Have you thought it through?"

Her earlobes were thin, glowing a faint pink under the desk lamp. She turned her head slightly, her lips touching his wrist.

"Mm."

Chen Mo raised his hand to tuck the damp strand of hair falling on her forehead behind her ear, his knuckles brushing against her earlobe, feeling her tilt her head slightly.

She pressed her cheek closer to his palm.

(The author can't help but say: Damn charming ( ｡ ♡ ‿ ♡ ｡ ))

"Your hands are cooler than I thought." She said softly.

"The air conditioning is too cold."

She laughed, her breath brushing against the inside of his wrist, and then she held his hand, turned his palm over, and slowly traced the deepest line in his palm with her fingertips.

"This line is very deep for people who play the piano. I learned for a few years when I was a child, but later gave up. The teacher said my fingers weren't long enough."

"Your fingers are long enough." Chen Mo looked at her hands, distinct knuckles, and well-manicured nails.

She placed his hand back on his own knee but didn't let go, then stood up and dimmed the hotel room lights, turning them down until only the reading lamp by the bed remained.

The warm yellow circle of light fell on the white bed sheets, casting the shadows of the two people on the wall, overlapping together.

She sat back down opposite him, the distance closer than before, so close that he could smell the scent of body wash in the hollow of her neck, a very faint citrus scent.

Sydney raised her hand, her fingertips landing on the edge of Chen Mo's T-shirt collar, feeling the warmth of the skin above his collarbone.

It was always humid and hot in the hotel.

The next morning, when Chen Mo woke up, Sydney was already gone. There was a white sticky note on the pillow, written in lipstick: "Don't call at night, but you can during the day. — S."

The lipstick shade was between true red and bean paste, the last stroke dragging out a very thin tail, like the trailing tone of her murmurs last night.

Chen Mo tucked the sticky note into the last page of his notebook, that copy of "mrs. dalloway" he had bought from a second-hand bookstore on Charing Cross Road in London.

Before tucking it in, he turned the note over and added a line on the back: "Daytime is fine, and nighttime is fine too."

No signature, only the date.

That night, Taylor sent a message: [Is the MV finished?]

Chen Mo: [Yes.]

Taylor: [How is the female lead?]

Chen Mo: [Professional.]