281-285

Chapter 281: Is It Really This Exciting?

The next day, Luca drove to the set.

After a night's rest, he looked much better—no longer as pale as the day before. A faint smile lingered on his lips, and everything seemed normal, except for his ears, which were unusually red.

"Good morning, Luca!"

"Good morning, Mr. Kelly! You look great today!"

"Mr. Kelly, my friend's daughter is a fan of yours. Could I get an autograph for her?"

As Luca walked onto the set, people from the crew greeted him warmly, smiling and being unusually friendly.

Luca was surprised. These same people usually acted like zombies—cold and distant. Today, it seemed like they all had new faces. "Did the sun rise in the west or something?" he thought.

"Is there some kind of conspiracy?"

Luca exchanged greetings and laughed, "Why are you all suddenly talking to me today? Aren't you worried Director Babank will dock your pay?"

"Haha, sorry, Luca. For a while, Director Babank asked us to act that way toward you to give you some pressure and help you get into character," Farkas, the assistant director, explained.

"But yesterday, Director Babank said we don’t need to do that anymore. He thinks you can handle it on your own, so we’re back to normal," he added.

"Yeah, we didn’t really like acting like that. It was so awkward not smiling or talking every day," the head cinematographer said, laughing and patting his large belly.

"Acting while working these past few days wasn’t easy!" the others chimed in, smiling.

Luca smiled slightly. At first, he didn’t understand Babank’s methods, but over time, he began to see what the director was trying to do. That’s why he didn’t quit, but instead pushed through the pressure and kept going.

After all, everyone was doing their part. If he didn’t work hard, how could he consider himself any better than a lazy pig?

"Thank you, everyone! After we finish shooting today, I’ll treat you all to a meal on the Ipanema!"

"Great!"

"Thanks, Luca! I love group dinners!"

"Can’t wait for today to be over, I’m so excited!"

The Ipanema was a high-end restaurant located on a cruise ship in the bay. With fine wine, beautiful women, and fresh seafood, it was a famous place for indulgence in Rio, but the prices were steep, and most people couldn’t afford to dine there.

Luca didn’t care about the money, so he called Ms. Barbara to reserve a private section on the boat under his name.

"Good morning, Luca!"

Everyone was getting ready when Jose, the assistant director, arrived a bit late.

"Good morning!"

Luca thought for a moment and asked, "Jose, how did I do in yesterday’s scene?"

"Haha, you did pretty well! But the instructor said that your performance yesterday was the result of a long buildup. If you can deliver a performance naturally, without needing that buildup, then you’ll be set."

Jose grinned.

Luca nodded. "I’ll keep working at it."

Jose chuckled. "Alright, are you ready? We're about to start filming."

"But Director Babank isn’t here. How are we supposed to film?" Luca asked, glancing around.

"The director isn’t coming today. He’s been exhausted these past few days, working long hours, and almost had a heart attack yesterday."

"Is he okay?"

"He’ll be fine after some rest. I’ll be taking over the filming for now, so give it your best. Don’t expect me to go easy on you."

"Alright, got it!"

At 9:30 a.m., filming for Buried Alive resumed.

After a bit of preparation, Luca climbed into a wooden box to start his performance.

“I’m a truck driver.”

“I’m a civilian contractor working in Iraq. We were attacked in Baqubah.”

“They shot and killed the drivers.”

Jose sat in the director’s chair, watching the performance on the monitor.

"The instructor was right. Yesterday was definitely a breakthrough," he muttered, rubbing his chin. Compared to yesterday, Luca’s performance today lacked some of the intensity.

Yesterday, Luca had been like a taut string, and as the plot progressed, that string produced beautiful music. Today, the string was a bit loose, and the performance wasn’t as smooth.

But it was still a level above his earlier work.

"So he really did break through. This guy has a lot of potential," Jose nodded to himself.

"Cut!" Jose shouted after half an hour of filming.

Unlike Babank, who was more of a tough, silent type of director, Jose didn’t hesitate to point out mistakes when he saw them.

"Luca, your focus isn’t there. The performance lacks emotional impact," Jose critiqued, pointing out several issues with Luca’s acting.

In the past, Jose might not have been able to pinpoint exactly where Luca was going wrong. But after witnessing yesterday’s high-level performance, he had a clear benchmark, like grading a student’s test with the answer key in hand.

"Luca, did you understand what I said?" Jose asked.

"Yeah, I just need a moment to get ready."

From inside the wooden box, Luca responded.

Throughout the day, the pattern continued: Luca would act, and Jose would repeatedly call for cuts, offering detailed feedback. It was a bit frustrating for Luca. In the beginning, he had desperately wanted someone to guide him, but Babank had been tight-lipped, forcing him to figure things out on his own through painful trial and error.

But he had gotten used to that method.

Now, out of nowhere, a new director was constantly interrupting and offering suggestions. It was enough to make him nostalgic for the silent old bald-headed director.

"Ahchoo!"

Hundreds of miles away, in a dimly lit editing room in São Paulo, a scruffy-bearded man was sitting at a screen, frame by frame, editing film strips.

"Palos!"

An old man with a bald head sat in a wheelchair, an IV drip attached to his arm, as someone pushed him into the room.

"Babank, what are you doing here? Don’t bother me. I’m busy," the editor muttered, scratching his head.

"I wanted to ask when the footage would be ready."

"Three days!" the editor said confidently.

"Three days?" Babank nodded.

He had worked with this editor for over 20 years, and they had earned plenty of accolades together. He trusted the man’s skills.

"Babank, you seem to be in a hurry?" the editor asked, confused.

"Haha, you’ll find out in a few days," Babank replied before leaving the studio. He still had a ton of post-production work to handle—dubbing, music, and so much more.

After finishing shooting in the afternoon, everyone piled into two minivans and headed to the ship for the dinner party.

On the way, Luca remembered something and went to ask Jose.

"Jose, when will yesterday’s footage be edited?"

"Why do you want to know?"

Jose scratched his arm, accidentally irritating some mosquito bites.

"I want to review it and figure out what went wrong."

"You want to see it?"

Jose smirked. "You think I’d give you the answer key? I’m not crazy."

"Luca, the footage from yesterday hasn’t been edited yet. You can watch the stuff from a few days ago."

"Fine!" Luca said, though he was eager to see the footage from yesterday. He hadn’t been able to get into the same flow today, and he thought seeing yesterday’s recording might help spark something.

"Don’t worry about it, Luca," Jose chuckled. "It’s after hours. Time to relax! So, what’s the plan for tonight?"

The others turned to listen as well.

Luca grinned. "Colombian powder, a Japanese feast, and a strip show by the Venice Dance Troupe."

"What?!"

The crew members were dumbstruck.

"Luca, a strip show? Isn’t that a bit much?" Jose blushed, rubbing his hands together awkwardly. "There are still some women in the crew."

"Yeah, you're right," Luca nodded. "Out of respect for the ladies... none of that is happening."

"What?!"

"Why would you even say that, then?"

"Talk about a letdown!" the men on the bus complained, while the women, most of whom were in their 30s and 40s, chuckled at the joke.

Luca smiled. "Don’t worry, everyone. Tonight’s dinner won’t disappoint."

"Good, because when you mentioned all that other stuff, I got a bit worried. We’re respectable people—we don’t go for that kind of thing," Jose said, grinning.

"Yeah, yeah," a few of the guys chimed in, nodding in agreement.

"Hypocrites!" the women scoffed, laughing at them.

Amidst the laughter, the two minivans drove into Guanabara Bay.

Night was falling, and the fun was about to begin.

(End of chapter.)

*Chapter 282: The Night Banquet*

"Cheers!"

"To Luca’s growing success!"

"To the early completion of our movie!"

On the Ipanema, a seaside restaurant, music played softly. Over in the buffet area, more than thirty people gathered around a long table, raising their glasses, lively and joyful.

At the table, besides Luca and the crew of Buried Alive, there was also Marcio, who had arrived earlier, along with two of his friends—one, a girl named Caroline, and a middle-aged man.

"Luca, this is Marcel, remember him?"

After a few drinks, Marcio pointed to the middle-aged man beside him and introduced him.

The man, in his thirties or forties, wore a white suit with an open chest revealing a thick gold chain—giving off a slightly tacky vibe.

"Of course!"

Luca swirled his wine glass. "I used to get my stuff from him. It was some strong stuff."

"Uh..."

Marcel’s smile froze, unsure how to respond.

People who quit drugs usually despise their former dealers, and Marcel had some guilt. To make more money, he’d offer higher-grade drugs to wealthy customers, knowing it would get them hooked.

Luca, indeed, got hooked and spent a lot of money.

Now that the old story was brought up again, Marcel frowned. If Luca held a grudge, it would be hard to discuss any business.

He shot Marcio a look.

"Luca, Marcel doesn’t do that stuff anymore," Marcio hesitated and said.

"Yes, Mr. Kelly," Marcel explained. "In recent years, the government’s crackdowns have gotten stricter. There are too many drug dealers in Rio, and the competition is fierce. It’s not as profitable as doing legitimate business, so I’ve divided up my old business.

I’ve shifted towards the entertainment industry—I own several nightclubs in the city and a film company. I’m in the legal business now."

"Is that so?" Luca smiled faintly, unconvinced.

People who’ve used drugs find it hard to quit; it’s easy to give in to weakness when you’re feeling lonely or empty. Similarly, drug dealers also find it hard to stop—there’s no business more profitable than drugs. And even if there is, it’s not something uneducated people can easily get into.

As for his claim of cleaning up and moving into entertainment? At best, it’s a front—or maybe money laundering.

Such things were common.

"Yes, Mr. Kelly. I have many colleagues who believe in your potential. We’d love to collaborate with you. We have plenty of funds and connections, both here and in Hollywood. We can help you however you need," Marcel said, passionately.

Luca took a sip of wine, savoring the taste slowly.

He had underestimated this guy.

This man wasn’t acting alone—he had a whole group behind him. And now, that group had its eyes on Luca, hoping to use him for money laundering.

Realizing this, Luca shot Marcio a glance, thinking, Look at the kind of people you bring around—getting played and not even realizing it.

Marcio didn’t understand the look and just grinned.

"Luca, didn’t you often say Hollywood is biased against foreign actors? That it’s hard to make it there? If we had the money, we wouldn’t have to care what they think. We could make our own movies," Marcio said.

Marcel nodded. "Mr. Kelly, if you have any projects, we’d be happy to support them."

Luca thought for a moment. "Thank you. I’d love to work with you, but in recent years, I’ve been focused on indie films. You know how indie films are—small budget, small productions, slow profits.

Like my current project—the total budget is only two million. Would you still want to invest?"

"An indie film?" Marcel frowned. Indie films weren’t his thing. Could they even make money? But a small investment could be made into a big one, and even if it lost money, it could be turned into profit. He didn’t want to give up on Luca and his international connections just yet.

"Mr. Kelly, I’m sure your indie films are great. I hope we get a chance to collaborate," Marcel insisted.

Luca pondered for a moment and offered a script collaboration instead.

"A script?" Marcel frowned. What he wanted was Luca’s good-looking face, not a script.

"Yes," Luca said confidently, raising his handsome face. "Besides being a model and actor, I’m also a well-known screenwriter. Currently, there are four companies in Hollywood producing my scripts—Goal!, She’s the Man, Step Up, and Kicking and Screaming.

And beyond those four, there are two more scripts in pre-production, with Tom Cruise and Jennifer Aniston as collaborators."

"Tom Cruise? Jennifer Aniston?" Marcel’s eyes widened. These were mega stars.

"Yes. If you’re interested, you can look into it. It’s no secret in Hollywood," Luca smirked. "Marcel, my scripts are top-notch. If you’re hesitant, you can wait a year or so. When my films are released, you can see if they make money. If not, we can talk again."

"A year or two?" Marcel wanted to make quick money.

"If you don’t want to wait, I have another script. I was planning to handle it myself, but after some research, I realized the theme might be hard to get approved."

Luca stroked his chin.

"Mr. Kelly, what kind of film is it?" Marcel asked.

"A gangster film!" Luca grinned. After learning more about Brazilian cinema, he noticed something strange.

There were rampant gangs in Brazil—so much so that sometimes they replaced the government in certain areas. Yet there were very few films about these gangs, especially high-quality ones.

And Brazil had so many beautiful women, yet it hadn’t become a production hub for films like in other parts of the world. He found that curious.

After asking around, he learned it had to do with strict government controls.

However, in recent years, the government had started loosening its grip, realizing that local films were no match for Hollywood.

Luca had always wanted to make a gangster film—play with a cop vs. gangsters story. But was there a market for such films in Brazil? He wasn’t sure.

That’s why he wanted someone to test the waters.

Marcel was perfect for that.

"A gangster film?" Marcel frowned. "Can that even be made? Would it get wide release? If it can’t be shown, how would it make money?"

"Don’t worry, Marcel. The movie’s direction will be perfectly fine," Luca reassured him, pulling him in close with a smile. "Let me tell you the synopsis—the movie’s called Saving Ronaldo."

"Huh?"

Marcel and everyone around him froze. "The Ronaldo?"

"Haha, of course not. There are tons of people named Ronaldo in Brazil," Luca chuckled. He had originally wanted to call the movie Saving Pelé, but Ronaldo had recently praised Lima in front of the media, even saying he wanted to date her, which had annoyed Luca. So, he decided to get back at him.

"The story takes place in a Rio favela. Ronaldo is a 15-year-old kid with great soccer talent. At 15, he leads his team to win the local youth championship. But his father is a gambler, deeply in debt to loan sharks..."

In this script, Luca borrowed elements from many Hong Kong gangster films, blending them into a classic crime movie that portrayed Rio’s gangs as patriotic, principled, and compassionate.

"... After a bloody battle, both Gang A and Gang B suffer heavy losses, but Ronaldo is safely protected by Gang B and boards a plane to the big match. He leads his team to victory and becomes a hero, while the gang members become unsung heroes."

"..."

When Luca finished his story, the people around him were silent. The plot was exciting and full of passion, but...

"Luca, are there really people that good in gangs?" José asked, frowning.

"Why not?" Marcel, who was riding high on the story, didn’t appreciate the skepticism.

"Many gangs are into charity work now—setting up orphanages, offering free health checks, giving out medicine, maintaining local security—sometimes they do better than the government," Marcel said. "Luca, this script is brilliant. Can I buy it?"

"Sure, one dollar," Luca said.

"One real?" Marcel blinked in surprise.

"A small gift to celebrate our first collaboration."

"Alright, Luca, you’ve got yourself a friend for life," Marcel said, delighted.

Luca smiled and clinked glasses with him.

He genuinely hoped the film would succeed.

If it did, he could bring over more Hong Kong films—Drug War, Cold War, Infernal Affairs...

Aside from that, Luca had another goal—cultural influence.

In many Hong Kong films, people in gangs often talk about rules—things like loyalty, brotherhood, righteousness, and even love. But when there are too many rules, people in the gang start killing each other, and in the end, everyone dies, leaving the world peaceful.

However, in Brazilian gangs, many don’t follow this code. They kill people on the streets for money, without any sense of honor.

That’s not good. It makes the world chaotic.

He wishes the gangs here would be more like the ones in Hong Kong, following some rules and engaging in more internal conflicts.

But is that useful?

He didn’t know, and it didn’t really matter. It was just idle thoughts.

“Luca, I really like the character ‘Parrot,’”

Márcio hesitated.

“Parrot?”

“Yes, I feel like that character suits me. Can you give me that role?”

Márcio asked eagerly.

Luca smiled lightly, “This project is Marcel’s now. You should ask him.”

“Haha, Márcio, we’re friends. It’s just a small supporting role. Once the film gets started, I’ll contact you first.”

Marcel then looked over at Luca.

“Thank you, thank you!”

Márcio was overjoyed and repeatedly thanked him.

Luca shook his head, then returned to his seat and started mingling with the crew.

That evening, he didn’t just provide good food and drinks, he also had Márcio bring in plenty of dancers—both male and female.

Soon, the shameless crew was dancing wildly with the dancers. Some female colleagues joined in as well, without a trace of embarrassment.

The music started, and everyone was dancing provocative disco moves, "Lambada, Lambada," in a wild and racy manner.

Luca, being a proper man, shook his head in disapproval. This was outrageous. Where were all the proper people?

He couldn’t watch any longer, so he called Márcio over, gave him a few instructions, and left the party early.

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 283: Kate Flirting*

Late night at Kelly Manor, the living room was brightly lit.

"Why are you back so early?"

On the sofa, Kate was lounging in a white lace nightgown, legs crossed as she asked.

"The party wasn’t much fun. I wanted to come back early and spend time with you," Luca replied with a smile as he changed his shoes.

"Good boy!"

Kate curled her lips into a smile. The past few days had been busy for both of them, rarely having time together. It was nice to finally have a moment to just relax, watch TV, and chat.

Kate had something she wanted to talk about as well.

When he came out after a shower, Kate poured him a cup of coffee and placed it on the table.

"It’s been almost a month, hasn’t the movie wrapped yet?"

"No, still a little more to go."

Luca sat down and took a sip of coffee.

"I watched your footage, you did great. What’s taking so long?"

Kate was growing a bit impatient.

This whole filming process had been exhausting for Luca, and he had lost a noticeable amount of weight, making her anxious too. She used to think acting was glamorous, but now realized it could be really tough.

"Why not quit? You’re handsome enough to make a living off your looks. Why put yourself through this?"

Kate gently touched his face as she asked.

Luca smiled softly, "Kate, acting isn’t that hard. It’s just that Director Babank wants to push me, so he’s being extra strict."

"I want to give it my all, which is why I keep pushing myself."

"But don’t worry, I won’t take unnecessary risks from now on. I promise!"

"Hmph, you better keep your promise. Next time, it won’t just be a couple of punches to calm my anger."

Kate playfully tapped his waist, smiling faintly, "I’ll break your back, right here. A complete fracture, and then I’ll keep you at home. Let’s see how you plan to push yourself then."

Luca felt a chill run down his spine. "Honey, I wouldn’t lie to you. We have so many goals left to accomplish; I’m not about to wear myself out."

"Good! I’m glad you understand."

Kate smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. To her, nothing mattered more than Luca’s well-being. As long as he was okay, everything else could be ignored.

"Kate, I’ve been awarded the 2003 Most Valuable Model. Do I need to go to the U.S. to accept it?"

"No, there’s no ceremony, just some photos to take."

The living room was brightly lit as the two cuddled on the sofa, discussing work matters.

The year 2003 had officially ended, and various industries were starting to announce awards.

Luca and Kate had become the most dazzling couple in the fashion world.

In 2003, Kate earned $35 million, securing the top spot on Forbes' list of highest-paid models. Luca earned $6.5 million, becoming the highest-paid male model.

The siblings both taking the top spot in the same year was unprecedented, causing quite a stir in both the fashion and entertainment worlds, with the media rushing to report on them.

"Darling, Forbes, Vanity Fair, Rolling Stone, and several other magazines want to interview us. When are you available?"

"Can we do them all on the weekend?"

"Of course, they’re the ones chasing us. We hold all the cards."

Kate clenched her fist and smiled confidently.

"Exactly."

Besides her awards in fashion, Kate had also won numerous accolades in literature, including Publisher’s Weekly "Best Book of the Year," Amazon’s "Best Book of the Year," and Brazil’s National Book Gold Award.

Her popularity was skyrocketing, making her a media darling.

People Magazine named her one of the "50 Most Beautiful People in the World," and Brazil’s Time called her the "First Beauty of Brazil," praising her as a woman who combined both beauty and talent.

Luca had certainly benefited from all this attention as well.

As they continued talking, Luca’s phone buzzed with a message.

The Oscar nominations for the year had just been released: The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King, Lost in Translation, Master and Commander, Mystic River, and Seabiscuit were all up for Best Picture.

Among them, The Lord of the Rings had an unprecedented 11 nominations, dominating the list. Lost in Translation received four, and the others had their own nominations, but with The Lord of the Rings in the mix, it would be tough for anyone else to take home the awards.

One of the nominations caught Luca’s eye—Monster, for which Charlize Theron had been nominated for Best Actress.

He thought for a moment and then found Charlize’s number, sending a one-word message: "Congrats."

"Jealous?"

She replied quickly.

Luca raised an eyebrow, surprised. In the past, whenever he sent holiday greetings, Charlize had been distant, usually ending the conversation with a short response.

This time, she replied with a question.

Was it really her?

"What are you smiling at?"

Kate curiously leaned over.

Luca chuckled, replying to the message as he explained, "Charlize got an Oscar nomination for Best Actress, so I sent her a congratulatory message."

"Charlize?"

Kate raised her sharp brows, intrigued. "You two still keep in touch?"

"Yes, just through texts."

"You didn’t hook up again?"

Kate sounded a bit disappointed.

Luca shook his head. "That one time was just an accident. We were emotionally drained after filming, had a bit too much to drink, and it just happened."

"Haha, I know. A one-night stand. But don’t you want to sleep with her again? She’s quite the South African diamond."

"No, I don’t want her taking advantage of me again."

"She took advantage of you? Hahaha!"

"Didn’t she? She’s seven years older than me. I’m this handsome and cool. Of course, she took advantage of me!"

"Good point!"

Kate smiled, leaning on his shoulder while watching him text.

After a while, she scoffed, "You’re terrible at texting girls. Saying you have no emotional intelligence isn’t wrong."

"..."

Luca rolled his eyes. "I was asking Charlize for advice on acting. How is that lacking emotional intelligence?"

"It’s nighttime. Who wants to talk about serious stuff now?"

"You want me to talk about something not serious? That would be inappropriate."

"You’ve already slept together, haven’t you? Never mind, I’ll handle it. I’ll flirt with her for you."

Kate playfully smacked his head, grabbed his phone, and started typing quickly. Soon enough, she had crafted a teasing, flirty message and sent it off.

Luca watched nervously.

"Kate, isn’t that a bit much?"

"It’s fine. You don’t understand women, but I do!"

Kate smiled confidently.

Ding!

Another message came in.

Kate opened it, laughed, and said, "Darling, how about that?"

Luca rubbed his forehead in exasperation. "Kate, I really don’t want to get involved with other women anymore."

His back ached just thinking about it.

"Then just be friends. The kind that sleeps together."

Kate curled up on the couch, rapidly sending more messages, her face flushed with excitement, an almost devilish smile on her lips.

Luca shook his head, finally understanding.

Kate wasn’t helping him flirt—she just enjoyed the process herself.

Oh well.

As long as Kate was happy.

(End of the Chapter)

*Chapter 284: What to Do When You Feel a Little Guilty?*

"Hey~ Good morning!"

"Good morning, Luca!"

The next morning, Luca walked into the set full of energy.

However, unlike him, the crew seemed a bit sluggish, probably exhausted from last night.

"Luca, why did you leave early yesterday?"

The next morning, José walked into the set, yawning.

Luca shrugged. "Sorry, I thought I could put my shame aside and party with everyone, but unfortunately, I’m just too serious. I tried for a long time but couldn’t do it."

"Pfft~"

José flipped him the finger. "You’re such a hypocrite!" Then he remembered something. "Luca, the script you mentioned at the party yesterday sounded pretty good."

"Oh?"

Luca looked at him curiously. "You want to direct it? You can talk to Marcel about it. I’m sure he’d be happy to collaborate with you."

"No, I was wondering if you had any other scripts like that. I'd be interested in checking them out."

José had been around the industry for over ten years and knew what kind of person Marcel was. Working with them could easily lead to being used as a money-laundering tool.

Worse still, if the movie flopped, it wouldn’t be surprising to end up on the street with nothing, or worse, dead.

"You like that kind of movie?"

Luca rubbed his chin, staring at him.

"Yeah, I love crime films. They’re cool and full of adrenaline. That’s real men's movies. Art films? They seem like something only sick people would make."

Luca laughed, agreeing with him.

Art films are all slow and drawn-out, with a sickly vibe. They don’t compare to the thrill of a good crime film.

"Do you have time this afternoon? I’ll take you to see a movie."

"A movie? With you? Isn’t that a bit weird?"

José frowned, feeling slightly put off.

Luca’s face darkened. "Can you be normal for once? I’m asking you to watch a movie related to the new script. It’s called Infernal Affairs, though it hasn’t been released here."

"The movie is about two men living with mixed identities, undercover for the police and the mafia. They represent their respective sides, battling both openly and secretly. It’s absolutely explosive and full of action, perfect for adaptation."

"Undercover?"

José stroked his stubbled chin. "That sounds interesting."

"Yes, I’ll bring you the disc tomorrow. You can check it out, and if you're interested, we could work on an adaptation together."

"Thanks!"

José quickly agreed.

After spending time together, his impression of Luca had improved significantly.

Luca was Brazil's number one heartthrob, talented, famous, and rich.

And on top of it all, this jerk was hardworking, serious, and dedicated.

If someone like him didn’t succeed, even God wouldn’t approve.

Of course, José was eager to collaborate with Luca.

Luca smirked. He had high hopes for José too.

Or rather, the main reason he brought up crime films yesterday was largely because of José.

Initially, he hadn’t paid much attention, but recently, while watching Brazilian films, he remembered a really good Brazilian crime film, Elite Squad.

The film was both a box office and critical success.

Domestically, it broke the box office record previously set by Avatar and even won the Golden Bear at the Berlin Film Festival.

And the director of this film happened to be a guy named José Padilha.

The reason he remembered this so clearly was because one of the villains in Elite Squad was named "Luca," which made him watch the movie a few extra times.

Now that he was here, would that villain named "Luca" still exist?

No way!

"Luca, get ready! We’re about to start shooting!"

"OK!"

At 9:30 a.m., the filming of Buried resumed.

Compared to the previous day, Luca's performance had improved slightly, but not by much. His acting still lacked fluidity, and the effort behind his performance was too noticeable. It wasn’t as seamless as it had been the day before, when it felt almost real.

"When will he reach that level again?"

José stroked his chin, growing more anxious. Filming the same scene every day was starting to get tiresome.

After lunch, he approached Luca. "Luca, how did you suddenly hit your stride the day before yesterday? Can you tell me?"

"It’s nothing, I just put myself through a little suffering."

Luca shrugged and explained how he’d buried himself alive that day and how it coincided with a torrential downpour.

"That intense?"

José was a bit surprised, but he admired Luca's adventurous spirit. He grinned and said, "Luca, how about doing it again?"

"NO!"

Luca didn’t want to take any more risks.

While burying himself wouldn’t kill him, doing it again would definitely get him killed by Kate.

She had been furious that day and had given him quite a beating. He definitely didn’t want to experience that again.

"Alright, we can take it slow."

José shrugged, secretly wondering how he could push Luca to that level again.

"José, have you finished editing the footage from that day? I’d like to see it for reference."

Luca brought up the footage again.

"No."

José shook his head, eyes twinkling. "Unfortunately, Luca, the footage from that day got lost."

"Lost?"

"Yeah, the cameraman was heading home with the tape when a group of gang members suddenly rushed him. They had guns and robbed him of everything, including the film reel."

The cameraman immediately contacted some friends to help track it down, offering a $1,000 reward, but they only found a few scraps of film.

The poor guy was so upset he fell ill that very night."

José was secretly impressed by his own ability to lie. He didn’t even blink as he told the story, but felt a little sorry for the cameraman.

"How serious is Babank's condition?"

Luca asked, frowning.

"Very serious."

José blinked and said, "The doctor said the old man doesn’t have much time left."

"That bad?"

Luca was surprised. The footage could be reshot, but the old man falling ill was a big problem.

"José, is Director Babank still in Rio? I’d like to visit him."

"Visit? No need, no need. The old man has gone back to São Paulo. Before he left, he asked me to tell you to focus on your acting and not let his situation delay the work."

He also said that this might be his last movie, and he hopes to see the final cut before… well, before his time comes."

José sighed, wiping at his eyes. "Luca, it's all up to you now. I hope you can fulfill the old man’s wish."

Luca looked at him. "Alright, I’ll do my best!"

The next few days, Luca went back to his routine of working hard on set and watching the footage afterward. In between, he did a few interviews and magazine covers.

After more than a week of intense practice, his performance gradually improved, getting closer to the level he had reached that day.

"Great! Great! That’s it!"

On February 12th, in the stifling heat of Rio, José watched the monitor, clenching his fists tightly.

Luca's performance today was incredible. He was back in his "god-mode" acting, with his expressions, movements, and dialogue all perfectly synchronized, his performance smooth and seamless.

Now José understood why the cameraman had been so excited that day—watching this kind of performance was thrilling.

"Director, lunch is ready. When should we eat?"

The assistant director, Farkas, came over to ask.

"Lunch?"

José waved him off. "Lunch break is postponed. Give everyone a slice of pizza and a can of coffee. Eat at your posts. No one leaves."

"Got it!"

Everyone started refueling, but Luca kept performing.

"Lynda, Lynda, this is Paul. I need you to call me right now."

"Call me, it’s urgent."

"I don’t know what the hell is happening, but—gasp—"

"I’m buried alive in a coffin!"

In the wooden box, Luca held a sweat-soaked phone, his voice frantic.

At this moment, his hair was disheveled, his sweat-drenched clothes filthy. As he made the call, veins bulged on his forehead and neck, his breathing labored, his expression twisted—he looked just like a man on the brink of suffocation.

Through the gaps in the wooden box, sand kept pouring in, slowly covering his body. His voice grew more tense.

"Come on, Luca, keep going!"

José had forgotten all about the pizza, focusing instead on directing the crew to support Luca's intense performance.

Luca seemed almost possessed, completely immersed in the role.

The voice on the phone said, "Paul, hang on, we’ve almost found you. We’re right above you."

Paul gasped. "I can’t hold on, the sand is filling up."

As the wooden box shook, more sand poured in. Luca strained to lift his head, but the yellow sand slowly covered him.

The person on the phone said, "I'm sorry, Paul. I'm really sorry."

Paul hurriedly asked, "What happened? Huff~ What happened?"

The person on the phone: "Paul, the person in the coffin is Mark. Your phone helped us find Mark. I'm sorry, Paul. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry~"

The camera was slowly buried in sand, as the faint light from the phone was covered, and there was no sound left in the wooden box.

"Cut!"

José was silent for a moment, then suddenly jumped out of his chair and shouted loudly,

"That’s a wrap! Dinner's on me tonight!!"

"Wooooo~"

"Thank you, director!"

The crew cheered, with people throwing their hats and shouting loudly. Some took off their jackets and started dancing samba on set.

"Haha, Luca, come dance with us! Huh~ Where's Luca?"

José twisted around and asked.

"Luca, why are you still lying in the box?"

"Something's wrong, Luca passed out!!"

"Hurry, get him to the hospital!"

(End of Chapter)

*Chapter 285: A Date with the Beauty*

Unfortunately, Luca suffered from heatstroke.

He felt dizzy all day, broke out in cold sweats, and had no energy in his limbs.

He could only lie at home and rest.

The next day, Kate returned from her business trip. When she saw his condition, she was quite angry.

"You said you wouldn't push yourself anymore, so how did you end up like this again?"

If he weren’t sick, Kate would have liked to give him another scolding to teach him a lesson.

"Kate, you're back."

Seeing her return, Luca quickly sat up, smiling nervously. "I'm fine, just a mild heatstroke. I'll be okay after resting for a day. No need to worry."

For the past few days, he'd been lying in a box buried in sand, sweating and acting strenuously. After a while, it started taking a toll on him.

His whole body felt sluggish, drained of energy.

Kate carefully checked him over and, aside from some weakness, found nothing seriously wrong.

"See? I'm really okay."

Luca stood up and bounced a little. "Just feeling lazy and don’t want to move."

"You're just too tired!"

Kate shook her head and helped him sit back down.

"Is this film almost done?"

"Not sure!"

Luca said helplessly. "Burbank got sick, so the assistant director is filling in. Yesterday’s scenes were good, but Burbank still needs to review them. If he thinks it's good, then it’s done."

"Maybe you should stop filming. It sounds like too much trouble."

Kate brushed his hair back.

Luca thought for a moment. "Alright, I’ve given it my all this time. If it still doesn't pass, then I might not have any better performance in the short term, and Burbank should find someone else."

He had really pushed himself this time, using every ounce of energy. If Burbank still wasn't satisfied, Luca would have no choice but to give up.

Before, he thought he'd never give up.

"Mr. Kelly, Mr. José Padilha is here," Barbara, the housekeeper, announced from outside.

"Please, show him in, Mrs. Barbara!"

Luca sat up again, explaining, "José is the assistant director. He’s quite capable. I have a new project to discuss with him. Don’t worry, it’s not an art film, so it won’t be as exhausting."

"Alright then!"

Kate left the room.

Luca walked to the door and saw Barbara leading José inside.

"José, welcome!"

Luca smiled and greeted him warmly.

"Haha, Luca, how’s your recovery? I’m here on behalf of the crew to check on you," José said with a grin.

"Thanks, after a good night’s sleep, I feel much better."

Luca invited him to sit inside.

"You’ve been working hard these days," José said sincerely.

Luca shook his head. "The heat is tough on everyone."

After the servant set down coffee, Luca asked, "Did Mr. Burbank see yesterday's scenes? Any feedback?"

"He hasn’t seen them yet; the old man’s not in the country."

José smirked.

Luca frowned. "Wasn't Burbank sick? Why would he go abroad? Is he seeking treatment?"

José scratched his head. "Well, actually… the old man isn’t sick."

"Not sick?"

Luca furrowed his brow. "José, what does Burbank mean by this? Is he waiting for me to quit?

If that’s the case, you can tell him he’s won. I won’t be able to finish this film."

"Luca, don’t get upset."

José silently cursed Burbank for faking illness, seeing how upset it made Luca.

Wait!

Suddenly, José remembered that he had made up the illness, not Burbank. It seemed he was unfairly blaming the old man.

But at the time, José had wanted to push Luca a little, using Burbank’s "final film" as motivation. Would that count as a harmless lie?

"Luca, take a look at this first."

José took out a copy of the Brazilian Daily from his pocket.

In the entertainment section, there was a news headline that caught Luca’s eye—"Luca's New Film Buried Alive Enters Berlin Film Festival Main Competition."

"What?! Buried Alive is in the Berlin Film Festival?"

Luca was stunned and a bit confused. "José, what’s going on? The film isn’t even finished. How is it in the festival?"

"Hahaha~ It’s simple. Last week, you had an incredible performance. Burbank was really impressed. In fact, it was already done then.

The director asked if you were satisfied with your performance, and you said you could do better. Seeing your potential, he asked us to help refine your skills, and you’ve done very well. Burbank is sure to be pleased."

"..."

Holding the newspaper, Luca felt a mix of emotions. So that’s what happened. Just a moment ago, he was cursing the old man for being unprofessional.

"Luca, the film festival is about to end. Are you going to attend the awards ceremony?"

José smiled.

"I’d like to, but my chances of winning are slim."

This year’s Berlin Film Festival had nearly 400 films from around the world, with 23 competing in the main competition.

Buried Alive had two nominations—Best Director and Best Actor. But with so much competition, and him only 22 years old, winning seemed unlikely.

"Luca, Burbank said Buried Alive has received very positive reactions at the festival. You might have a shot at the Silver Bear."

José encouraged him.

Luca thought for a moment. "When are you guys leaving?"

"I’m not going. The script you gave me the other day is excellent. I’m getting started on pre-production."

José explained that he had contacts in law enforcement and knew of some real-life undercover cases involving police in gangs. He wanted to find a case for reference.

Luca nodded, and they chatted more about the film.

The Brazilian version of Infernal Affairs had been written, but the rights negotiations were still ongoing, so it would be a while before things moved forward.

After chatting for a bit, José left the estate.

"Luca, what’s going on?"

A little while later, Kate came downstairs, now dressed in loose, casual clothes.

Luca smiled and waved the newspaper. "Kate, Buried Alive has been selected for the Berlin Film Festival’s main competition."

"But the movie isn’t even finished yet!"

Kate said in surprise, quickly walking over and taking the paper to read it carefully.

"A Best Actor nomination?!

Darling, you’re amazing! I knew you could become a big star. See? Wasn’t I right?"

Kate hugged his neck, excitedly congratulating him.

"Yes, you were absolutely right!"

Luca smiled.

For the rest of the afternoon, phone calls came in from people congratulating him on the nominations.

While it was exciting to be nominated, it wasn’t too overwhelming.

Although the Berlin Film Festival was one of the world’s top international film festivals, the weight of a nomination wasn’t on par with the Oscars. Winning, though, would be a different story.

Ding!

A message came in on Luca’s phone.

"Are you going to Berlin?"

The message was from Charlize Theron.

Luca suddenly remembered—Monster had also been selected for the main competition, and Theron had received a Best Actress nomination.

She was probably on her way to Berlin or already there.

But why was she asking that?

Could this be a date invitation?

He thought for a moment before replying.

"I’ll be there tomorrow afternoon. Drinks on me!"

"No time!"

Uh... What did that mean?

Luca scratched his head, feeling confused by women again.

"Kate, come help me figure out what this text means."

Since Kate had initiated the "flirting," it was only fair she help resolve it.