The air was cold and still. His muscles stiffened to the point where he couldn't even turn his head, yet he could feel the gazes crossing paths, thoughts surging in his mind like a storm.
John Quinn was completely caught off guard, but he still showed the composure of someone who had weathered countless storms. He shrugged lightly.
"Well, it seems someone's had a mental breakdown in front of a true Hollywood superstar. I'd better check if our company's health insurance covers therapy."
Light and humorous, he subtly complimented Brad Pitt with a bit of self-deprecation, skillfully pulling the situation back on track.
Smooth and seamless.
"I should go check on things. Before this spirals any further into chaos, let's take a three-minute break. A quick meditation might solve the problem."
With a casual joke, John took control of the situation. Not only did he find a perfect excuse to leave, but more importantly, he gave Brad Pitt and his agent the space to talk.
Whether it would be a serious discussion or an angry outburst, it didn't matter. John wasn't going to stick around and become the scapegoat or the target of their frustration.
A win-win.
John made his exit, left the meeting room, and looked around. He spotted Lucas standing by the elevator and couldn't contain his anger any longer. He walked faster and faster towards Lucas, like a volcano about to erupt.
His remaining rationality kept him from completely losing it. After all, this wasn't San Francisco, not their company's turf. There was no need to air their dirty laundry in front of outsiders.
But even that restraint took all his self-control.
Taking a deep breath, John could almost hear the fire boiling in his ears. He noticed something off—Lucas was repeatedly pressing the elevator button. Even though he knew pressing it more wouldn't make it come faster, Lucas couldn't stop.
So, this wasn't some tactic to humble Brad Pitt? Lucas left the meeting room in a hurry purely for personal reasons?
John's string of rational thought snapped.
"Lucas, what the hell are you doing? Do you even know what's gotten into you? Even if your mom died, you'd still better stay here and close this deal…"
His words were abruptly cut off.
Lucas, who had been expressionless all this time, turned and looked at him. Those deep, emotionless eyes were like the vast ocean, calm but with a sudden undercurrent of menace that sent a chill down John's spine.
The roaring in his ears vanished.
John had never seen Lucas like this.
The world went quiet.
Lucas finally spoke, "My brother's been hurt and taken to the hospital. I need to go."
Just one short sentence to explain, but John still felt his heart tighten, nearly suffocating. He had to muster all his remaining composure to keep it together.
Lucas barely held onto his composure, "As for here, there's no need to worry. It's just Brad Pitt."
John quickly realized how pathetic he looked, standing there exposed under Lucas's cold gaze. He snapped angrily, interrupting him.
"Just Brad Pitt?"
"Heh. Do you think Hollywood has more than one Brad Pitt? Just because your brother's some wannabe actor, you think you can look down on everyone? Not just anyone can call themselves a Hollywood star."
"A hundred of your brothers wouldn't be worth one Brad Pitt."
John stepped closer, nearly grabbing Lucas by the collar to punch him, but he barely controlled himself.
"For God's sake, Lucas Wood, do you know what you're doing? This is our chance—our once-in-a-lifetime chance to break into Hollywood."
"I know those Hollywood idiots are all show, no brains. Talking business with them is like insulting your own intelligence. But the checks they write are real, and they're in the millions."
"Once we secure this deal, we call the shots. This is easy money, too easy to pass up. But you're acting just as brainless as them, throwing away this golden opportunity."
"We made you a partner, but we can just as easily push you out. Do you remember how you even became a partner?"
"Even if your brother—"
John got more and more worked up, raising his voice without realizing it. His face turned red, veins bulging, looking uglier by the second, completely unaware of his own grotesque behavior.
Until—
Ding.
The elevator doors opened, interrupting his rant. John watched Lucas step into the elevator and realized his voice had gotten out of control.
He quickly lowered his volume, glancing nervously around to see if anyone had noticed. But it was too late. Turning back, Lucas was already in the elevator, still calm as ever.
They used to joke that Lucas had nerve damage, never showing any emotion no matter what happened. But now, looking at Lucas's blank face, a cold chill crept up John's spine.
Everything was happening too fast, too much for John to keep up with, leaving him unusually flustered.
"Leaving? You're leaving?"
"Damn it!"
"If you leave now… do you even know what this means?"
Lucas had intended to explain that Brad Pitt was already hooked. Even if he left, Brad would come back, and there was no need for John to panic like this.
But now, Lucas didn't feel like explaining. He didn't have the energy.
"Yeah." Lucas nodded lightly.
John froze, not understanding what Lucas was agreeing to.
In that brief moment, the elevator doors slowly closed.
Just like that… slowly closing…
John's mind went blank. He didn't know how to react. Almost instinctively, he raised his hand to stop the doors, trying to keep Lucas from leaving.
"Lucas Wood, do you even—"
But Lucas cut him off sharply. "Move."
John's eyes widened. "What did you say?"
Lucas repeated, clearly and firmly, "Move. Aside."
John was stunned. He didn't even realize that he had obediently stepped back, watching as the elevator doors fully closed, and Lucas disappeared from sight.
John: What?
Lucas just walked out on him? Lucas just cursed at him?
So that slap Lucas just delivered across his face… is that why his cheeks were burning?
Turning around, John noticed the figures in the office cubicles, all ducking down like moles. After a brief stir, everything returned to normal as if nothing had happened.
Yet the stillness around him felt like it was mocking his embarrassment.
His face burned even more.