Hollywood Black-and-White Films (Part Two)

"Can you imagine? I'm sitting here, surrounded by famous makeup artists and agents, oh..." Selene exclaimed as she sat in front of her vanity, her eyes narrowing as if she were mesmerized by a fantasy life.

"I don't need to imagine, they'll be here soon."

"What?" Selene turned around and looked at him in confusion. Then she saw a large group of people rushing in from the dressing room door. Some of them were carrying clothes racks with dresses of various colors, and others were carrying jewelry racks full of gems. They swarmed in and surrounded Selene.

Bruce sat on the sofa on one side of the room, squinting. He held a cigar in his hand, but didn't put it in his mouth, just letting the smoke drift away.

"Hey, wait, what are you doing?" Selene was still in a daze when she was lifted up from the chair, but soon she was pushed into the dressing room by the stylist.

Bruce leaned back on the sofa, looking up at the dressing room. This was a witness to the rise of Hollywood, where countless international movie stars and celebrities had sat, their radiant faces reflected in the mirror.

Exquisite gowns glide across the soft carpet, shimmering gems weave a dazzling galaxy, and the wood here retains the scent of perfume, mixed with the aroma of cigars, making one drowsy.

That most prosperous and glamorous era could easily draw anyone in, making them pursue those extravagant, elaborate, and beautiful dreams.

Bruce slowly opened his eyes and saw Selene walk out of the changing room.

This was the first time he had seen Selene in such a magnificent gown—a long, flowing fishtail dress adorned with tiny diamonds. The overhead lights made her appear as if a shimmering river was flowing across her body, a glow that made Bruce, accustomed to the darkness, squint. Selene touched her earrings, looked at Bruce, and said, "Does it look good?"

When Bruce narrowed his blue eyes, it always gave people a sense of unease. In a cat's intuition, this feeling was even stronger. Selene clearly felt the aggression in Bruce's gaze, which made him look less like a playboy and more like a beast.

Bruce stood up, took her hand, and Selene, with One Hand on his waist, said, "... Is this a dream?"

Bruce noticed a hint of confusion in her eyes, a touch of childishness, like little girl struggling to understand a simple question.

Life in the Slums stripped away all innocence. The days of struggling for food and clothing and hardship were etched on her brow. The strength and wildness that had sustained her through those difficult days were washed away by this touch of childishness, and the vulnerability that was revealed made Bruce's heart, which hadn't beaten for many years, jump.

When Selene looked up, her eyes shone brighter than the jewels on her body. She said, "Have you seen that movie?"

Which one?

"...I forgot." Selene turned her head away and said, "But there's always one, I remember, where the male and female leads were dancing on stage, and the female lead was wearing the same dress as me, she was very pretty..."

"The same to you."

"Would you like to dance with me?" Selene asked him.

Bruce put his arm around her waist and said, "That's the question I should be asking you, Miss Selina. Would you like to dance with me?"

The flickering lights cast dim, yellowish Shade, like a dream from which one will never awaken. Dust motes danced in the light, like an orchestra playing a chorus in the microscopic world. Points of light fell, and nothing had changed, but dawn had broken.

"Look at this! This is so cool!" Peter picked up a lasso and said excitedly, "I bet this is a prop from a Western movie! When I went to the West last time... Oh, Gwen, come and see what's in there? It looks like a dressing room?"

Peter Gwen aside and pointed to a room inside. The two of them peered in curiously. Seeing their expressions, the guide came over and introduced them, "Oh, this is the exhibition hall that recreates the original dressing room of the film set. Most of the exhibits here were moved from there."

"Restored? What happened to that dressing room?"

The commentator gave a regretful look, shrugged, and said, "Unfortunately, it was destroyed in a fire at the turn of the century."

"Oh my god, I think I heard my dad talk about that fire." Gwen made the sign of the cross on her chest and said, "I think a firefighter died."

"That's right, not many items remain, but this exhibition hall does its best to recreate the appearance at that time, so you can go in and take a look."

Peter and Gwen walked hand in hand into the dressing room. As soon as they entered, Gwen exclaimed "Wow!" Peter stroked the wooden dressing room table and said, "This must be genuine, right? The wood grain is so beautiful."

"That's right." The guide said from the doorway, "And that sofa over there was also salvaged from the original site. You can visit it, I won't disturb you any longer."

The narrator smiled and left. Peter looked up and around, completely immersed in the novel experience brought to him by the sense of antiquity.

This is a completely different feeling from a science and technology exhibition, full of the humanistic charm of that prosperous era.

Peter walked over to the sofa, looked it over, and then sat down. Gwen exclaimed, "Why did you sit on it? This is an antique! What if you break it?"

"It's okay, it's quite sturdy. Would you like to try it out?"

When Peter looked up, his eyes were always bright, almost overflowing with joy and anticipation. Gwen walked up to him, took Peter's outstretched hand, and rarely looked down at Peter's face like that.

Peter laughed and said, "Do you know how red your face is?"

Gwen fanned her face with her hand, as if to change the subject, and said, "I have a good idea. I came out of there... you know, that dressing room. You have to imagine me wearing a beautiful dress, can you?"

"Of course, my imagination is amazing." Peter shifted in his chair, seemingly unsure how to relax, then leaned back against the chair, lifted his head, and Gwen released his hand and turned to walk toward the changing room.

When Peter heard a creak, he knew the dressing room door had opened. His eyes, which had been fixed on the ceiling, looked down and saw Gwen emerge from the dressing room, standing against the light by the window. The afternoon sun cast a silvery glow on her, Peter was truly captivated.

He stared wide-eyed, his pupils slightly contracting, as if he were in a daze. Gwen took two steps forward with her hands behind her back, her hair shimmering in the light.

Seeing Peter's blank expression, Gwen suddenly lowered her head and laughed, then stretched out One Hand. Peter involuntarily stood up and took her hand. When Gwen looked up at him, her voice sounded soft and thin.

"Do you think it's possible that, like in the movies, someone has actually done this in this dressing room before?"

"I think...maybe," Peter stammered.

"So what do you think they'll do next?"

"...What will he do?" Peter felt his mind go blank. Gwen turned her head to look at the window and said, "He won't just stand there like an idiot like you."

After saying that, she let go of Peter's hand, turned around and walked to the other side. Peter was suddenly awakened. He grabbed Gwen, Gwen looked back at him. A beam of bright sunlight between them stirred up countless tiny dust particles.

"Gwen ..." Peter could only call her name blankly, feeling the warmth from her hand. Gwen saw a complicated expression suddenly appear on Peter's face, but in the end, she saw Peter open his mouth, but still say nothing.

Gwen showed a hint of sadness, but quickly suppressed it and said, "Let's go see some other exhibits."

As the two walked out of the exhibition hall, it was nearly dusk. Gwen Peter walked hand in hand down the steps in front of the exhibition hall, watching the twilight light flow down the steps.

"What do you think?" Gwen suddenly asked. Peter turned to look at her, somewhat puzzled, and said, "What do you mean?"

How was the exhibition?

"Great, I mean... well, it's a little different, but it's really good. I never knew film history could be so interesting."

"I thought you wouldn't like it," Gwen said, putting One Hand behind her back. "After all, you seem to prefer industrial products."

"Don't say anything silly like 'I like you, so I like you,' I don't want to hear that." Gwen looked up at Peter, Peter gave her a slightly embarrassed look. Gwen smiled and said, "You really are the worst person I've ever met when it comes to sweet talk."

Peter scratched his sideburns, his lips pursed downwards, and said, "You must think I'm a very boring person, right? I'm really not good at saying nice things. My aunt always says that it's a miracle that I was able to find a girlfriend."

Gwen was suddenly amused by him. She chuckled and said, "What you say isn't very funny... but it always makes me laugh."

"You know what? Peter ..." Gwen suddenly looked at Peter and said seriously, "I always feel that there is another you, a you I don't know, hidden under this appearance of yours."

"Maybe I'm just overthinking, but I always have this intuition, Peter, what attracts me is precisely the soul beneath your outward appearance. You're different from them all, but I can't quite put my finger on how..."

Seeing Peter's expression, Gwen asked, "Did I make you feel uncomfortable?"

She gently shook her head, her hair fluttering with the movement.

"Don't feel embarrassed, Peter."

She stepped down the stairs before Peter, then looked up at him and said, "Just as you were willing to come with me to Hollywood to fulfill my childhood fantasies, just as you were willing to accept a different me, I can certainly accept a different you."

She reached out and gently touched Peter's face with her fingers, saying, "Don't worry, don't doubt, don't feel embarrassed... Peter, you don't have to feel embarrassed for me, whether in the past, present, or future."

Peter's mind flashed through countless dreams he had once had. His eyes held the unique naivety of youth, yet also a distinctive kind of determination. He looked into Gwen's eyes, where there was a tender sea of lovers. He heard Gwen say, "... I love every version of you, every different version of you."

"You are unlike anyone I've ever met..." Selene stepped down a step, then stopped and looked at Bruce on the next step, saying, "It's as if there are two completely different souls living in your body."

"Why do you say that?" Bruce looked at Selene. The two steps made their height difference even more obvious, and Selene's attempt to look up looked somewhat comical, yet also somewhat cute.

"You can take it as a cat's intuition. I don't even know if the you I'm seeing now is the real you, or if there are actually many versions of you?"

"Which one do you like the most?" Bruce's eyes, illuminated by the twilight, suddenly ignited an orange flame within their cold blue. Selene felt her gaze being melted by this flame, until it burned into her heart.

"Of course I prefer the rich one," Selene said, waving her arm. "He can bring me to Los Angeles, give me such a beautiful dress, and dance with me..."

Selene was certain she saw disappointment in Bruce's eyes. She suddenly smiled slyly, and when she looked at Bruce again, with a hint of smugness, she said, "You were just sad, weren't you?"

"I remember you said that bats don't get sad." Selene reached out One Hand to touch Bruce's face, but the height difference made her gesture look like a believer reaching out her arm to beg for divine intervention.

"But you can be sad. You're not just a bat, at least not to me... my Mr. Yarn Ball."