Charlie tightly gripped the colonel's gun, trying to wrest it away, but the colonel wouldn't let go. At the same time, he didn't want to hurt Charlie, which caused the two of them to stumble and crash into the cabinet near the wall. The colonel pinned Charlie against the cabinet and desperately tried to regain control of the gun. After much struggle, the colonel finally succeeded. He grabbed Charlie's shirt collar with his left hand and pointed the gun at Charlie's head with his right hand, roaring like an enraged lion, "Get out!"
"I'm not leaving!" Charlie was staring down the dark muzzle of the gun, his life in jeopardy. In that moment, he closed his eyes tightly, but his clenched teeth and the tension in his facial muscles revealed his inner anxiety and resolve. He had completely gone all in now, even risking the gun firing at any moment. Bravely, he faced the colonel's fury head-on!
"Get the hell out of here!" The colonel shook Charlie hard and roared again.
This time, Charlie's eyes widened. Those clear amber eyes were filled with fear, but his words remained unwavering, firm, and resonant. "I'm not leaving!"
"I'll blow your brains out!" The colonel swung the gun in his right hand, shouting again, but his voice gradually diminished.
Instead, Charlie's trembling voice grew louder and more confident, "Do it! If you're going to shoot, then shoot! Come on!" He was provoking the colonel in his own way. Though his words were daring, the rapid breathing betrayed his inner fear. His beautiful eyes flickered anxiously, shifting between the colonel and the gun. Eventually, they landed on the colonel's furious face, and he stared back unflinchingly into the colonel's lifeless eyes.
Faced with Charlie's challenge, the colonel was at a loss. All he could do was shake Charlie angrily and grit his teeth as he repeated, "Get the hell out of here!"
Charlie saw through the colonel's inner turmoil and rage. He finally summoned the courage to vent his own fury at the colonel. "You messed up—so what?" He ignored the dark muzzle of the gun and shouted at the colonel's aging face, "Everyone makes mistakes! You should keep moving forward, shouldn't you?"
"Forward where?!" The colonel's hoarse, harsh voice cut him off, leaving Charlie momentarily speechless. "I don't have a life anymore!" the colonel yelled in despair, staring blankly ahead. "I live in the dark! Do you understand?" His roar, like that of a wounded beast, "I live in the dark!" brought a faint mist over Charlie's eyes.
Charlie panted heavily as he looked at the despondent colonel. "Then give up! Just give up and throw it all away… because I'm going to give up too." On his young face shone a fearless light, and his eyes were more determined than ever. "You're right. I'm done for. We're both done for. There's no hope. So let's do it go on, do it! Pull the goddamn trigger!" Charlie shouted while closing his eyes, turning away from the colonel's gun. His fear was vivid in his expression, yet his words remained firm. This contradiction, etched on his youthful face, merged together. "You pathetic blind man!"
Charlie's words drained the color from the colonel's face. He couldn't say a word. Then Charlie delivered the final blow: "Pull the trigger!" His tone was no longer loud but calm, though the tremble in his voice made it even more moving, striking the softest part of the colonel's heart.
"Ready, Charlie!" The colonel raised the gun in his right hand.
Charlie panted rapidly, but his voice and expression still clashed in their steadfastness. "I'm ready!" Yet the fear of death made his lower lip tremble, and the mist in his eyes gradually thickened, turning the clear light brown into something almost transparent, revealing everything within.
The colonel's ears caught it instantly. "You don't want to die!"
"And neither do you." Charlie had seen through the colonel's heart. This was the first time he had ever truly spoken to the colonel as an equal.
"Give me one reason." The colonel still refused to back down.
"I'll give you two." Charlie thought for a moment and licked his dry lips. "You can dance the tango, and you drive a Ferrari better than anyone I've ever seen."
That actually made the colonel exhale unexpectedly, but he still said, "You've never seen anyone else do those things, have you?"
"Give me the gun." Even though fear had overwhelmed Charlie, he still refused to back down. Just like when he faced school issues, emotionally he knew it'd be easier to give in, but his principles wouldn't allow it. He stood his ground firmly, unwilling to compromise.
Charlie's resolve finally made the colonel waver. He held the gun up hesitantly and said in a low voice, "Oh, what should I do, Charlie?"
"If you stumble, keep dancing the tango." The mist in Charlie's eyes slowly turned into tears that hovered in his sockets. His eyes reddened, but the firmness in his voice never changed. This was the line the colonel had said before teaching Donna the tango, and now it was being repeated by Charlie.
"Are you inviting me to dance, Charlie?" the colonel softly asked, then began to hum quietly, "'You never planned to walk away, but your heart wished you could stay…'" His left hand slowly let go of Charlie's shirt collar.
Freed, Charlie's tears finally overflowed, not just from the relief of surviving, but from the fact that the colonel had finally regained his senses and truly abandoned the idea of suicide. Charlie didn't mean to cry, but the tears just kept falling, making his eyes look clearer than ever.
"Do you like my blue uniform?" the colonel patted his uniform, as if casually bringing up a new topic.
Tears slid from Charlie's eyes, and his slightly trembling lips betrayed his fear. Only now did he allow that fear to claw its way out of his heart. The crystalline tears made the young and inexperienced Charlie look so fragile. "Yes, very beautiful!"
"I wore this… to Lyndon B. Johnson's inauguration. Of course, we weren't the most important guests." The colonel's aged face had tears sliding down it quietly, though he didn't seem to notice. His cloudy eyes were now filled with exhaustion. "But he came over and greeted us."
Faced with the colonel's memories, Charlie once again spoke up, "Please give me the pistol." That fragile look paired with such a firm statement, along with the sparkling tears, made the emotional impact even stronger. The storm in his heart gently rippled through his tears, making it hard not to be moved.
"You're asking an officer to surrender his weapon," the colonel asked tiredly, his earlier authority already gone.
"You don't have to surrender it. Just put it down." Tears continued to stream from Charlie's clear eyes. "Okay? Just put it down." That youthful face showed the fragility of heavy pressure, but he used his own firmness to make the colonel turn toward the dressing table, ready to put the gun down.
"Kid, I need a drink." The colonel turned around, his back to Charlie, his voice low and weary. Yet that earlier aura of rage and decay was now slowly settling down.
At this moment, though Charlie's face was streaked with tears, he didn't look pitiful at all. His eyes gradually regained their luster, and his expression steadily became more resolute. He was breathing heavily, and for the first time, he defied the colonel's request head-on. "How about a cup of coffee?" But his slightly trembling lips still revealed the emotional storm he had just endured.
"That's too big a leap for me right now, Charlie." The colonel placed the pistol on the dressing table. "Maybe tomorrow, ha!" He gave a self-deprecating laugh. "No, a Jack Daniels would be a better choice." He started unloading the pistol and then turned to say, "No water, Charlie!"
Charlie shifted his gaze from the pistol in the colonel's hand, exhaled slightly, and knew he had done it. He had finally persuaded the colonel not to take his own life. But he didn't feel proud. In those amber eyes were only deeper determination and the lingering fear of having just escaped a catastrophe. "No water."
"Much obliged," the colonel said softly his first time being so polite.
"Cut!" Martin's voice rang out clearly, suddenly breaking the silence on set. In the stillness, it sounded abrupt. Then everyone saw Martin stand up suddenly from the frozen crowd. His body language and facial expression revealed unmistakable joy. Clearly, the energy Hugo had just exploded with in the scene had taken him by surprise he almost wanted to applaud!
At this moment, the crew was dumbfounded, especially those who didn't think much of Hugo. Their slightly parted lips and frozen limbs completely exposed the shock in their hearts with no disguise whatsoever. In this scene, Hugo had fully unleashed his potential. Along with Al, they had delivered a jaw-dropping performance. That emotional impact left even the most seasoned crew speechless unable to move.
With the most direct action, Hugo had ignited a psychological storm.
But Hugo, who had just accomplished this feat, didn't have time to ask Martin how it went. He didn't even have a moment to observe the reactions of the crew. He only knew that the scene had been interrupted and that he could now fully dive into his own world to dialogue with the character Charlie. He was completely immersed in character now, gripped by a mix of fear, fragility, resolve, and courage unable to think further.
Hugo just stood there, dazed, his eyes still moist with tears, filled with infinite sorrow and fear, swirling in his gaze.
.....
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