The production wrapped two days ahead of schedule.
Thanks to the seamless chemistry between Cassius and Tyson, and Cassius's constant tweaks to the choreography, the final action scenes went incredibly smoothly.
Watching the fluid, high-tension fight scenes on the monitor, the director nodded in satisfaction multiple times.
To celebrate wrapping early, the producers threw a simple party in the empty lot outside the studio.
A few long tables were set up with pizza, ribs, salads, and cases of beer and soda.
Loud rock music blasted from the speakers.
It wasn't just their crew. People from nearby productions that had wrapped for the day were drawn by the noise, wandering over to snag some free food and drinks.
For a moment, this industrial zone, usually filled with machine noise and directors shouting, felt like a college frat party.
Gaffers, grips, actors, directors...
Everyone dropped their titles and huddled in groups, beer in hand, shooting the breeze.
Cassius grabbed a beer and found a relatively quiet corner.
He wasn't great at these purely social events.
Mike and Tyson spotted him and walked over to clink bottles.
"Hey, action star! Good work!"
Tyson slapped him hard on the back. "Next time there's a role for an Asian guy who can fight, I'm definitely recommending you."
Mike nodded too. "You got the goods, kid. Keep in touch!"
Cassius chatted with them for a bit, thanking them for their guidance.
While Mike was talking about action design with clear logic, a grey attribute orb dropped:
[Rhythm Attribute: Logic +1]
Absorb!
Just then, the director grabbed a beer bottle, hopped onto an empty equipment case, and clinked a spoon against the glass to get everyone's attention.
"Quiet down! Guys!"
He shouted, a big grin on his face. "We finished early! Thank you all for your hard work! Especially..."
His eyes swept the crowd and landed on Cassius.
"Our Cass!"
"Honestly, I was worried about casting an Asian actor for this role at first. But Cass proved me wrong with his professionalism and skill! His action scenes elevated this movie! To Cass!"
"To Cass!"
Whistles and cheers erupted from the crowd. Many people raised their glasses in Cassius's direction.
Cassius was a bit surprised. He didn't expect the director to single him out publicly.
He raised his beer bottle in acknowledgment.
He could feel many eyes on him—curiosity, approval, and maybe a hint of undetectable jealousy.
He noticed that while the director was giving his sincere thanks, a green attribute orb dropped at his feet:
[Presence Attribute: Cohesion +2]
Absorb!
Getting publicly validated felt pretty damn good.
The crowd went back to being noisy.
Cassius was about to grab more food when he spotted a familiar figure on the edge of the party.
Kristen Stewart.
She must have just wrapped on the set next door.
She was still in casual clothes, holding a can of soda alone, leaning against a prop truck far from the crowd.
Head down, fingers scrolling aimlessly on her phone, she looked completely out of place amidst the noise.
Cassius didn't plan to go over.
He grabbed a slice of pizza and stayed in his corner.
A while later, he went to the drink station for water. Kristen happened to be there too, digging through the ice bucket for a Diet Coke.
Cassius grabbed a water and turned to leave.
Kristen looked up and saw him.
She seemed to take a second to recognize him, then spoke. Her voice was still flat.
"Hey, Vending Machine Guy."
Cassius paused, realizing she was talking to him.
"Oh, it's you. How were the Skittles?"
"Too sweet."
Kristen made a face, pulled a Coke from the ice, cracked it open, and took a sip.
She looked at Cassius, then at the lively crowd nearby, and suddenly asked:
"Are you the guy they were talking about? The Asian actor who can really fight?"
"Something like that. Just trying to make a living," Cassius replied.
"You don't look like a fighter."
Kristen scanned him up and down, her tone direct.
"Looks can be deceiving."
Cassius shrugged.
Kristen seemed to smile, very faintly.
"True."
She paused, seemingly out of things to say. She gave him a casual nod, then took her Coke and walked back to her quiet corner to look at her phone.
Conversation over. Less than a minute total.
Watching her walk away, Cassius thought she was pretty much exactly like her screen persona—a little cool, a little distant, but not fake.
He took his water back to his spot and continued observing the motley crew at the party.
From a young actor desperately pitching himself to a casting director, a grey orb dropped:
[Emotion Attribute: Desperation +1]
From a drunk gaffer telling loud jokes, another grey orb dropped:
[Presence Attribute: Hyperactivity +1]
Scraps, but better than nothing.
The party lasted until late at night before winding down.
Leaving the noise behind, Cassius walked along the empty industrial street toward the motel.
The night breeze was cool, blowing away the lingering smell of beer and noise.
Since several crews were stationed here, security was decent, and the streetlights were bright enough, so he wasn't worried.
As he walked, the low rumble of an engine approached from behind.
A red Porsche sports car slowed down and stopped beside him.
The passenger window rolled down slowly.
It was Kristen Stewart.
One hand on the wheel, her face looked pale under the streetlights, her eyes unfocused.
Cassius noticed she didn't smell strongly of alcohol, but her state was clearly off. Not drunk, but maybe something else, or just extreme exhaustion mixed with a little booze.
"Hey..."
Her voice was floaty as she recognized him. "Walking Asian Action Guy."
Cassius stopped, surprised. "Miss Stewart? You okay?"
He glanced at the car. "You sure you can drive?"
Kristen shook her head, trying to clear the fog. "I didn't drink much. Just dizzy. Can't get a cab in this shthole."
She rubbed her temples, her tone annoyed.
"Do you know... how to get to Beverly Hills?"
Cassius's heart sank.
Driving from this industrial zone to Beverly Hills meant complex roads. In her state, she was 100% going to crash.
He looked around. The street was empty.
"You can't drive like this."
Cassius's tone turned serious. "It's too dangerous."
"So what? Sleep in the car?"
Kristen slumped onto the steering wheel in defeat. The horn honked accidentally, the harsh sound echoing in the night.
Cassius sighed.
He couldn't just walk away. If something happened to her, he wouldn't be able to live with it.
"Which hotel are you at? I'll drive you."
He paused, then added, "I'll drive your car."
Kristen lifted her head, squinting at him, seemingly judging if he was trustworthy.
"You have a license?"
"Yes."
Cassius got his license back when he was on his F1 visa. He didn't drive often, but he knew the basics.
Kristen stared at him for a few seconds. Then, as if running out of energy, she unbuckled her seatbelt and pushed the door open unsteadily.
"Fine... Driver. It's all yours."
She stumbled from the driver's seat to the passenger side.