dkrc Chapter 51 The Audition for a Male Stripper
Chapter 51 The Audition for a Male Stripper
Channing Tatum stood at the entrance of the CAA building and looked up at the glass tower that Los Angeles residents called the Death Star.
He felt this place was more like a nightclub he couldn't get into.
The door was glass, the revolving kind. He stood outside and looked at it, unsure whether he should just push it open.
Last time he interviewed a graphic designer at Century City, the security guard at the building sized him up for five seconds at the entrance and then said, "Delivery guys, go to the back."
He still remembers wearing his cleanest T-shirt that day. It was brand new, bought at Target for $9.90.
He didn't get the gig later; the photographer said his jawline was too sharp and not suitable for shooting soft drinks.
He was wearing the same T-shirt today.
"Chanin Tatum?" A woman in a black suit appeared on the other side of the revolving door, holding a tablet computer, her tone as if verifying his identity.
"it's me."
"Come with me."
He didn't have time to be nervous. He was already nervous from the moment he received the call from his agent.
Channing Tatum is signed with Page 305 Models and officially entered the entertainment industry after having the opportunity to star in a crime drama in 04.
However, his agent is not a professional in the film and television industry, so when notifying him of the audition, he always said not to have too high expectations.
As the elevator ascended, he stared at the floor numbers jumping. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen.
The woman didn't look at him; her tablet screen was lit up, displaying a table with several columns of names.
He glanced to the side and saw his name on the third-to-last line, with two names crossed out before it. He didn't recognize those two people, but he knew that the crossed-out names meant someone had looked at their information and said no.
He might be the next one to be marked off.
The corridor was long, and the carpet was so thick that it made no sound when you stepped on it. Movie posters hung on both walls, all of them for big-budget films.
As he passed by the poster for "Sideways," he subconsciously shrugged, feeling that his physique, which had just returned from a striptease in Miami, was completely out of place in this academically-inspired film.
In a Florida midnight club, he stripped down to his underwear and tie in front of completely unfamiliar women, then stuffed tips into his socks.
This experience was later brought up and repeatedly discussed by the media, but now this secret is just a shoebox at the bottom of his wardrobe, containing a stack of one-dollar bills and an expired work badge from a strip club.
"Go inside, Director Ryan Lam is already waiting for you."
The woman pushed open the heavy oak door, her tone finally carrying a hint of pity.
In her view, this young man, who didn't even own a suit, was nothing more than a background figure in this grand casting process.
He took a deep breath and walked into the room.
The room wasn't large; it contained a long table, a few chairs, a monitor, and a floor lamp. Several cardboard boxes, each printed with the logos of various luxury brands, were piled in the corner.
He recognized the letters, but he had never bought such luxury items before; they were too expensive.
He was wearing a pair of discounted canvas shoes, worth fifteen dollars, but the soles were too thin, and his feet hurt after walking for a while.
A person was sitting in front of the monitor.
She looked younger than him, like she was under twenty.
He had assumed the director would be older, at least in his forties, wearing a leather jacket and a baseball cap, like the TV drama director he had seen from afar when he worked on the film set.
"Let's talk while sitting down," Lin Ruiyang said, gesturing to the chair opposite him, his tone neither warm nor cold.
He sat down; the chair was hard. He tried to keep his back from touching the backrest, because doing so looked too relaxed, and being too relaxed was disrespectful.
"Chanin Tatum," Lin Ruiyang read his name aloud.
"From Florida?"
"right."
"Your resume mentions modeling experience, and... other jobs." Lin Ruiyang flipped the resume over, but the back was blank.
"You used to be a construction worker."
This is not a question.
"Two years, after graduating from high school."
"Are you still doing it now?"
"I won't do it anymore, but I can lay bricks."
Lin Ruiyang's expression didn't change, but Cha Ning noticed that the director's gaze lingered on him for a long time.
He was all too familiar with that look in his eyes. It wasn't the kind of look that was sizing up his body, but the kind that was like when people were auditioning models, their eyes were like they were examining a piece of meat.
But this director wasn't looking at his shoulders, his fingers, or where his hands were when he sat down.
"Can you play a chef?" Lin Ruiyang asked.
"I've done kitchen work," Channing replied immediately. "Not a proper chef, but an assistant. I did things like washing dishes, chopping vegetables, and occasionally flipping the pan."
Are you afraid of cutting your hand?
"I'm not afraid."
Why?
"If you cut yourself, just put on a band-aid and keep cutting."
Lin Ruiyang smiled and nodded, then picked up a piece of paper from the table and handed it over.
"This is part of Nate's lines. You don't need to read them all; just pick the parts that sound good to you."
He took the paper; there weren't many words on it.
Nate, Andy's boyfriend, is a cook working in a low-end kitchen in New York.
The dialogue is simple: "You're working overtime again today?" "You said you were free on Fridays last time." "I'm not complaining. I just want to know, do you still have Fridays for me?"
He read those three sentences aloud three times.
He read it aloud the first time without making a sound. The second time, he tried to read it out loud, but his voice was a bit too high, so he adjusted it.
On the third time, he remembered something.
He had a girlfriend when he was in Florida. She worked as a cashier in a shopping mall, while he worked on a construction site.
The two agreed to go to a place called "Waffle House" every Friday night for waffles. The place was open 24 hours and was still playing 1960s country music at 2 a.m.
They ate together for three months, then one day the girl didn't come. The next day she sent a text message saying she didn't want to keep coming back and forth to wait for him.
He didn't reply at the time because he wasn't very good at talking. He closed his phone, sat on a cement bag at the construction site for half an hour, and then stood up and continued carrying bricks.
That was four years ago. But now he remembers that cement bag, gray one, with "CEMEX" printed on it. The foreman yelled at him four times that day because he had moved two bags of cement by mistake.
He took a deep breath and looked up from the paper.
"You're working overtime again today," he said, uttering the first sentence. He didn't deliberately lower his voice, but it naturally became lower, as if it were squeezed out from deep within his chest, not released from his throat.
You said last time you were free on Friday.
He paused when he read the second sentence. It wasn't a planned pause; he just suddenly felt he should stop when he got to that point.
He spoke the last sentence very softly. Not out of weakness, but in a tone that suggested he already knew the answer, yet still couldn't help asking it.
He looked up at Lin Ruiyang, but he didn't choose to continue reading. There were still a few sentences on the paper, but he felt that was enough.
Lin Ruiyang looked at him for about five seconds, then picked up another document from the table, opened it, and found it was his schedule.
"You're currently filming a movie directed by Steven Spielberg."
"Yes, The War of the Worlds," Channing answered honestly.
"But I don't have many scenes, just a few lines. Filming will wrap up by next week at the latest, so it won't take up the schedule of this other crew."
He paused, then added, "I can shuttle between the two film sets without affecting either one."
What role do you play?
"A boy hiding in a basement. He spends most of his time running, and only has one scene with lines."
"What kind of lines?"
"I yelled 'This way' at Tom Cruise."
Casting director Allen lowered his head, struggling to suppress a slight smile.
The room suddenly fell silent. Cha Ning wasn't sure if he had said too much, but Lin Ruiyang gave him the feeling that he was confirming that it really was only going to be filmed for a few days.
"I watched 'Coach Carter'." Lin Ruiyang closed his schedule. "You did a good job in it."
Cha Ning was stunned.
Lin Ruiyang turned to look at Allen beside him, then glanced at producer John, and simply said, "That's Nate."
Allen nodded, and John glanced at Channing without saying anything, which was taken as tacit agreement.
"Go back first, we'll let your agent know later," Roger said from the corner.
Channing walked out of the room. The corridor was still long, and the carpet was still thick, but this time every step he took felt more solid than when he came in.
As he walked out of the CAA building, he stopped and took out his phone.
The first message was sent to Anne Hathaway. They got along fairly well on set last year while filming "Touch of Evil," and the princess wasn't pretentious.
"I just auditioned for 'The Devil Wears Prada,' and the director cast me. I get to work with you again."
send.
The second message was sent to Joseph Gordon-Levitt, with whom he also became good friends on the set of "Touch of the Night".
Joseph was only a few years older than him, but he had already established himself in the independent film industry.
Channing felt that Joseph was the kind of person who truly understood acting, and every time they talked, he felt that he was a little closer to that circle.
"Joey, I got a supporting role in 'The Devil Wears Prada'."
After sending the message, I put it back in my pocket.
He walked through the streets of Century City, pushed open the door of a sandwich shop on the corner, and ordered a roast beef sandwich with extra pickles.
The clerk asked him if he wanted fries, and after thinking about it, he decided to order more.
He's very hungry now, he's been hungry since last night. Last night's dinner was just a bowl of beans (bushi). It's not that he doesn't have money, it's that he has no appetite.
I have an appetite now.