"First of all, thank you for accepting my invitation."

An old man with white hair that hid bald spots extended his hand, a genuine smile plastered over his face.

Averie took his earphones off and shook the man’s hand. Despite his age, he had a firm grip.

"And allow me to offer my condolences."

Once Averie and Hyerin had sat down on the sofa, he took the seat opposite them.

"I heard from Director Groux that you and Mr. Cao were close enough that he even gifted you one of his paintings. We could have rescheduled this meeting if you wanted."

The old gentleman looked solemn and apologetic.

"He took a liking to me, but we weren’t that close," Averie said, crossing his legs. "I prefer films over funerals anyway."

The actor’s eyes drifted over to the girl sitting by the man. She looked to be in her early thirties, with blonde hair and brown eyes.

She was Elise Corsini, the woman who had waited in the hotel lobby to guide them in.

’The youngest daughter, the only child he has an actual relationship with. I suppose working together saved their relationship. Or maybe, it’s what built it.’

The woman was good-looking, but like Hyerin, she kept a business face on.

’This suite is really nice, too. Way better than mine, even.’

"Before we begin, let me congratulate you, Mr. Auclair. Your performance as The Photographer was one of the greatest ever. And as far as The Lady is concerned... what can I even say?"

He drew in a shaky breath, his eyes lost.

"There is no word in the English language that could describe it. To call it a performance would be a disservice to what you truly achieved. She was a living, breathing thing. She was alive, I could tell."

Averie looked at Hyerin, who was clearly very happy to hear high praise about her friend from a renowned director, before turning back to the old man.

"Thank you."

For a while, the four shared pleasantries, which mostly involved praising Lady Ethereal. It was very clear that the man was both impressed and awed.

While observing Averie, the man wagged his finger like he had caught something interesting. "This may be a bit presumptuous, but may I ask something?"

Averie wanted to decline, but Hyerin had insisted on observing etiquette.

"Certainly," he muttered through his clenched teeth.

"I noticed that, since you entered the room, you have been deliberately trying not to look at the glass surfaces." He pointed at the glass coffee table, the balcony window, and the mirror. "Is there a problem?"

Averie sneaked a glance at Hyerin before faking a smile. "Oh, nothing really. Just being cautious."

The man raised an eyebrow with concern. "Cautious of?"

"Aftereffects."

Director Corsini opened his mouth to inquire further, but an image suddenly came to his mind—one he had struggled to get out of his mind since the end of the film.

’Makes sense,’ he thought. ’If the audience is struggling to take their minds off her, he must be suffering effects far worse.’

His eyes shone as he jotted down something in a diary before twice underlining it.

"Well, we can take it slow, if you want."

Averie didn’t really mind either way. He just didn’t want Hyerin to get on his case. If she found out the extent of the aftereffects, he knew she would make him rest for a long time, stopping him from taking on any projects until they were destitute.

After some more beating around the bush, the man signaled his daughter, who immediately brought out a black, hardcover book.

When the Strings Snapped

It was a biography about a rock band from the 90s.

Averie didn’t want to read it. He hated biographies, and he hated reading someone else’s prose. No matter how boring a script was, at least he could put himself in the shoes of a character.

Just from the title, he could guess what it was about.

’Drugs, groupies, discord in the group because of the vocalist’s popularity.’

As if he seemed to have read Averie’s thoughts, Director Corsini chuckled.

"Give it a try, just one page. If you don’t like it, that’s that. There is very little correlation between the book and the script, I promise. But you must read it."

The fact that the man, known for hiring a closed group of distinguished actors, even mentioned a script meant he wanted Averie to be a part of it.

The actor from Hell was curious. He couldn’t accept or reject the role if he didn’t know what the role was.

"Why me?" Averie asked after some deliberation. "Other than the transcendent acting skills and the undeniable charm, why me?"

With a smirk, Director Corsini studied Averie’s amber eyes. Since the day he first saw the young man at the airport, he knew the actor had special eyes, even though both of them wore tinted glasses at the time.

"The role is a bit complex." Director Corsini leaned back. "It’s not easy for me to hand it over to someone I’m not entirely certain of. There are very few whom I trust to deliver a convincing performance. Unfortunately, or fortunately, all of them have already accepted other roles in this film."

He sighed.

"I was planning on holding interviews with a short list of actors, but..."

"But you saw The Lady and thought no role could be more difficult than that."

"Definitely. But I also thought you’d be perfect as it appears you’re only looking for complex and challenging roles."

Averie folded his arms across his chest. "I don’t primarily look for complexity. I look for roles that seem fun. The two things often happen to coincide in my case."

The director chuckled.

But Averie didn’t. He maintained his stony expression.

"Let me ask you a question to satiate my curiosity," he said.

Before the man could even give his approval, he continued, "What did you see when you watched The Lady?"

The director’s jovial mood faded, replaced only by a regretful gaze.

With a wry smile, he slowly said, "The future."

He could still see it vividly: a future where a man breathed his last in a pristine hospital room, with no family or relatives by his side.

After a brief silence, Averie replied, "The Lady doesn’t show the future."

His wandering gaze settled on the mirror. Stationary within the world inside the reflective surface, hidden behind the red wooden umbrella, The Lady stared back.

"If it is a future you see, then it is a future you fear."