Chapter 264: Confrontation
Alfred stood among the crowd, while the assistant director in the front was explaining the upcoming scene's shoot. However, everyone's attention seemed elsewhere. Involuntarily, all eyes turned towards the direction where the lead actors had gathered. The tense sparks in the air were so palpable that even bystanders could feel the suffocating intensity.
Alfred also observed everyone's reactions with curiosity. Vin, standing composed and calm to the side, fixed his gaze on Renly in the distance. His relaxed posture seemed devoid of any guard, yet the explosive power concealed beneath his muscles seemed capable of igniting the air. Clad in just a white tank top without any superfluous embellishments, he exuded a strong aura that held everyone in check.
Jordana, Tyrese, and others were trying to persuade Paul, but he simply waved them off and gestured towards them. He then walked briskly towards Renly on the opposite side. Renly, who had been conversing with the crew, looked up and cast a puzzled look. Paul patted Renly's arm, whispered a few words, and saw Renly respond with a light smile. His relaxed demeanor seemed to indicate that he wasn't concerned at all.
This struck Alfred as quite interesting.
Paul had always maintained a boy-next-door style—his aura wasn't overpowering, his physique not overly robust. In a black shirt paired with jeans, he seemed carefree and had a perpetually bright smile on his handsome face. He appeared approachable, with his face seemingly bearing the clear words, "I'm a good guy."
Renly standing before him was much the same. Wearing a light grey round-neck T-shirt paired with straight black pants, he had ginger-colored high-top military boots on his feet. An assistant named Nathan was helping him fasten a bulletproof vest, the camouflage design lending him a heroic air. His neatly trimmed buzz cut showcased a soldier's poise. However, a gentle smile was always at the corner of his lips, a humble and gentlemanly demeanor that seemed devoid of any aggression.
So, when Renly and Vin faced off, what kind of sparks would they generate? If it were a one-sided domination, the scene would be unsightly. Alfred was curious: why had the producers assigned the role of Hobbs to Renly?
As the assistant director walked away, extras started discussing in hushed tones, perplexed about what was happening on set. Alfred, however, tightly sealed his lips, refraining from participating in the discussions. He kept his eyes fixed on the unfolding dynamics in the scene. He had a premonition that today's shoot would be incredibly thrilling.
Paul patted Renly's arm once more before turning away and returning to his side of the camp. Brian and Dominic formed a team, while Vin raised his chin challengingly, eyeing Paul. But Paul didn't back down, his gaze just as intense. Step by step, he made his way back to his position. Ultimately, neither of them uttered a word, both averted their gazes, preparing to immerse themselves in the shoot.
Looking at the tense atmosphere on set, Justin let out a soft sigh, self-consoling that the scene's atmosphere had always been on the verge, packed with tension. Now, unexpectedly, even without deliberate arrangements, the effect was striking. The final presentation should turn out quite well.
Then, Justin nodded at the script supervisor, signaling that after confirming all departments were ready, they could begin shooting.
Renly couldn't deny that he felt a bit nervous.
Although he had already experienced the grandeur of a large film crew during the shooting of "The Pacific", movies and television shows were still somewhat distinct, especially considering this was an action film, a commercial movie, and a popcorn flick. The approach to acting was bound to differ.
The performance couldn't be overly forceful, nor could it delve too deeply or involve too many details; otherwise, it might slow down the film's pacing.
And, of course, there was one that couldn't be forgotten: Vin, the watchful Vin.
After adjusting his breath, Renly calmed himself down again and entered Hobbs' performance state: Dominance, dominance, even more dominance. More importantly, it had to be coarse yet intricate, remarkably intelligent, and decisive in every action. Dominance! Dominance! Dominance!
"Action!" The script supervisor's voice echoed on set.
Hobbs strode forward with confident, assertive steps. His hands rested naturally at his sides, swaying in coordination with his broad strides. His upper body slightly leaned forward, his gaze intense and unstoppable. His resolute posture stood out amidst the surging crowd. Although hundreds of people gathered around, it was as if a breaking icebreaker, automatically parting the sea. The faint ripples created a spacious path, and all eyes continued to land upon him. The bustling sounds, as if caught in a vortex, rushed away.
It was merely an entrance, without a single line of dialogue, yet the steady and sharp steps successfully overwhelmed the whole scene. A T-shirt, pants, bulletproof vest, and black fingerless gloves—just these. It was so simple that there was no room for any superfluous adornments. His buzz cut, gaze, body type, and even the faint smile at the corner of his mouth were all self-assured and composed.
Alfred couldn't help but exclaim in awe. If allowed, he would have raised both hands, applauding Renly. But what he wanted more at that moment was to observe Vin. So, he turned his head away, focusing on Vin's back. How could he have forgotten that in this scene, for dramatic effect, Dominic had his back to Hobbs?
However, Paul's expression held a hint of astonishment, nearly unable to conceal the surprise and awe in his eyes. He was just across from Vin, seated on the engine hood of a car. Logically speaking, Paul, playing Brian, should be enjoying the party atmosphere just like Dominic, waiting for Hobbs' arrival. But now, Paul's expression clearly betrayed his inner emotions. Consequently, he broke into laughter.
"Hey, Torretto!" Hobbs bellowed in a deep, raspy voice that resonated with strength and intensity. The surrounding cacophony gradually subsided. It seemed as if the entire crowd's focus had shifted to Hobbs. His steps halted about five paces in front of Dominic and Brian.
Brian raised his head, a smile still lingering on his lips, as if he was enjoying the party. However, the smile gradually faded, and he glanced at Hobbs and then at Dominic, his expression hard to decipher.
Dominic slowly turned around, looking at Hobbs. His gaze unconsciously scanned him from top to bottom. His chin lifted instinctively, his eyes carrying a trace of disdainful provocation and contempt. It was as though he had spotted a clown wandering into a Harvard classroom.
Hobbs stopped in his tracks, not speaking immediately. He locked eyes with Dominic, his gaze unwavering and his chest held high. The unyielding exchange silently spread through the air, igniting a touch of tension in the silence.
It was an unexpected performance, not written in the script. However, it stirred up Vin's anger. He adjusted his stance, straightened his chest, and stared back fiercely with a confrontational posture.
One second, two seconds—time's passing heightened the atmosphere, a subtle fermentation of chemical reactions gradually transforming the ambiance. Even Vin himself hadn't realized it; he lifted his chin once again, using the line of sight beneath his eyelids to glance over. The disadvantage of height difference made him a bit awkward.
Hobbs' gaze flickered slightly, though his expression remained unchanged. Yet, a trace of sharpness surfaced in his eyes during the power struggle. "You're under arrest!"
A concise statement, devoid of any unnecessary embellishments. This enraged Dominic. "Arrest?" He sneered, "I don't feel like I'm under arrest." He glanced disdainfully at Hobbs, pausing briefly. "How about you, Brian?"
"No, not a bit," Brian's voice sounded somewhat tense, even a bit forced. It seemed he was distracted. He raised his head to look at Hobbs, saying emphatically, "Not even a little bit."
Hobbs' gaze landed on Brian, his pupils slightly contracting. Then he folded his hands across his chest, assuming a nonchalant posture, and playfully quipped, "Just give it a minute, it'll sink in."
The irony and mockery in his words caught Vin off guard, leaving him momentarily stunned. He failed to respond, and the feeling of being overpowered was truly miserable. He disliked it, he utterly disliked it!
"Those feds. That was Reyes," Brian's voice chimed in, prolonging the conversation.
"I couldn't care less," Hobbs decisively cut Brian off, suddenly disrupting the rhythm of the conversation. His powerful aura was suffocating, causing both Brian and Dominic to falter. Their minds seemed unable to keep up with Hobbs' quick changes.
Hobbs took a half step forward, further intensifying his imposing dominance. "I'm just here to bring in two assholes whose names hit my desk."
"Yeah, that sounds like a real hero," Brian nodded mockingly, meeting mockery with mockery, retorting.
Hobbs' response was... laughter. His lips gently curved upward and then retreated. After a moment's contemplation, they curved up again, as if he had heard the world's funniest joke. He raised his gaze, locking onto Brian. Slowly and composedly, he commented, "That's funny." Hobbs nodded slightly and mused, "From a guy who took the oath of a cop, then went against everything it stood for." He spread his hands, shrugged his shoulders lightly, and nodded meaningfully again.
Without any superfluous words, a single sentence sufficed. The subsequent irony and mockery were left for Brian to savor at his own pace, which left him feeling somewhat awkward.
Hobbs, however, didn't continue to pay attention to Brian. Instead, he turned his head toward Dominic and smiled gently, his smile lifting a notch. "Or some wannabe tough guy prick who beat a man half to death with a socket wrench. Yeah, real tough."
Hobbs' deep eyes remained unchanged, gazing at Dominic in such an unwavering manner that it was difficult to meet his gaze. Subconsciously, Dominic felt the urge to evade.
Realizing this, Vin became increasingly frustrated.
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