Vincent goes to the study to make the call; afraid that I might get bored, he turns on the TV in the living room for me.
I use the remote to change channels and find that the BBC is airing a documentary called "Treasures of Chinese Porcelain."
Ceramic expert Lars Tharp delves into China, starting with the kaolin clay from the southern town, Jingdezhen, explaining how Chinese clay merges with another material—mica—to become porcelain.
I stare at the TV intently, even forgetting that I'm still at Vincent's house.
After a long while, someone calls my name.
"Elsie."
I finally react, turning abruptly, "Have you finished work, Mr. Vincent?"
Because I feel embarrassed, my face starts to burn.
Vincent crosses his arms, leans against the wall, glances at the TV, then looks at me but isn't annoyed.
"Are you interested in ceramics?" he asks.
"Yeah," I nod, "I even bought equipment at home and made a cup."
"Do you have any photos? Can I see them?" he asks.
I hand him my phone.
"As a beginner, you're very talented," Vincent comments.
"Thank you," I smile.
The documentary on TV is still playing. Vincent glances at the blue-and-white porcelain on the screen, nods, "It does look good."
Then we go to the kitchen. Vincent makes coffee, and I notice the dinner plates we used earlier still on the table. I take them to the sink to rinse.
As Vincent finishes making coffee, I just finish washing the plates. We sit together at the table.
"What do you want?" the person across from me suddenly lazily asks.
I'm stunned.
Maybe the atmosphere between the two of us has been too natural that I forgot that we have a business relationship based on money.
The room falls silent, with only the sound of him stirring the coffee with a spoon.
I've been silent, and Vincent thinks I'm just embarrassed.
"It's okay; It's good to have big ambitions."
I feel strange now, my heart sour and swollen, like lying on cotton.
After some thought, I mention a director's name, "I want to join his crew."
The director is named Benjamin, quite famous, and every year, actors from his crew are nominated for various awards. Many Best Actor and Best Actress winners come from his films.
In fact, I've already discussed collaboration with the director, and we just need to sign the contract.
But given Vincent's busy schedule, he might give the task to his assistant.
"Got it. I'll handle it," Vincent responds.
"Thank you."
"Have some coffee," Vincent says to me again.
"Oh, okay." I pick up the cup and take a sip.
Vincent continues to tilt his head and watch me.
"Done?"
When I place the cup back on the table, he says with a somewhat frivolous tone, "Let's go to the bedroom and do it again."
Cough.
The coffee in my mouth gets stuck in my throat.
Isn't he tired?
I've spent almost every day of the remaining holiday time at Vincent's house. He texts me to come over, and the content is always:
【Are you free?】
【Condoms are running out; buy some on your way here, I'll reimburse you】.
And so on.
The consequence of excessive indulgence is that on the first day back to work after the holiday, I'm yawning continuously.
"Miss Elsie, are you okay?" the makeup artist asks with concern, "Didn't you sleep last night?"
I say, "No, I slept early last night."
I'm not lying; after the absurd day with Vincent, I went to bed at ten.
But there are still dark circles under my eyes.
The consequence of excessive indulgence is that on the first day back to work after the holiday, I'm yawning continuously.
"Miss Elsie, are you okay?" the makeup artist asks with concern, "Didn't you sleep last night?"
I say, "No, I slept early last night."
I'm not lying; after the absurd day with Vincent, I went to bed at ten.
But there are still dark circles under my eyes.
After finishing makeup, while the crew is making final adjustments to the set, I take out my phone, intending to send a message to Vincent. But before I can type, the phone screen changes, and Bryan's call comes in.
"Elsie." Bryan's voice is full of excitement, "Is there anyone with you?"
I look around the empty dressing room, "No, what's up?"
"I take back what I said before," Bryan declares.
I'm puzzled, "What did you say?"
"I said you don't need resources, there's no need to be with Mr. Vincent... or something like that." Bryan is excited, "You've got a watch endorsement."
Upon hearing the brand name Bryan mentions, I also freeze.
"There is no spokesperson in UK, and even the previous Best Actress only appeared in a short film to promote their new season's model." Bryan is unusually excited.
This is normal; I never thought this brand would look for a spokesperson in the UK either.
"Are you still on the set now?"
Bryan asks, "Why aren't you talking? Are you overwhelmed with joy?"
I come to my senses, "No, I'm still on set."
"I'll come to pick you up, and we can have dinner together to celebrate."
After hanging up the phone, I hesitate for a moment and open the dialogue box with Vincent.
【Me: Thank you.】
【Me: Was it difficult to get this advertising endorsement for me?】
【Vincent: No, they have a collaboration with my company.】
I type another thank you.
Bryan has arranged dinner at a highly private restaurant.
This restaurant is not open to the public and requires an invitation from the owner. It is quite famous in London.
"How did you manage to make a reservation?" I ask in the car.
"My vast network of contacts." Bryan replies.
The restaurant is indeed secretive, with no door number. You have to pass through the garden, follow a corridor covered in purple wisteria, turn at the end of a small path, find a small wooden door with a wooden fish next to it, knock with a secret code, and only then does a waiter come to open the door.
The menu is fixed, an all-vegetarian feast.
I suspect the owner of this restaurant is a monk.
Bryan pours tea for me: "Monk? Its said the owner of this restaurant is a handsome born rich who speaks four languages. And even a prince from a certain royal family was enamored with him. But he rarely appears; otherwise, I would also like to see how handsome he really is."
"A prince?" I catch onto this information.
Bryan nods with a knowing expression.
"No wonder you chose this restaurant," I say.
Bryan is also gay.
The dinner is casual and pleasant.
Afterwards, Bryan goes to the restroom, and I wait for him at the entrance, scrolling through my phone.
Suddenly, a man's hand pats my shoulder.
"Charlotte? You're back?"
I turn around, and standing before me is a young man, tall and handsome, with striking features. Surprise fills his emerald green eyes.