Those who frequented the basement bar had been numb recently when they heard Charlie talk about "what is a decent person and what is a civilized person?". At this time, they were extremely excited to have the opportunity to tease that guy, and each one shouted louder than the other.
Charlie, who was wearing a white shirt and an open black vest, hesitated for a moment whether to pay nearly thirty people for a drink or to do a striptease.
Soon, he put down the beer in his hand and jumped onto a small round table.
He had never done anything stupid before when he was drunk here. What was there to be afraid of in striptease?
Lumian smiled and clapped, took out a 20 Firkin note, slapped it on the bar, and said to the boss, Pavard Nissen:
"Everyone has a drink, and you can drink whatever you like."
After saying that, he picked up the glass of ronchi and watched Charlie awkwardly twist his hips and carefully unbutton his shirt amidst the applause.
"Be more intense! Be more rough!" Lumian shouted loudly in a tone of excitement.
Other drinkers followed suit.
Sweat broke out on Charlie's forehead, and he was worried that violently tearing his clothes would damage his shirt.
This is no cheap old linen shirt!
He thought for a moment and took off his sweater while the buttons on his shirt were unbuttoned.
Lumian took another sip of Lielenchi, sat back at the bar, looked at Gabriel, who was wearing black-rimmed glasses and dark overalls, and asked funnyly:
"So early today?"
Doesn’t this playwright who is used to staying up late always come here after midnight to have a drink?
Gabriel held the green absinthe and smiled peacefully:
"I'm moving out tomorrow."
"Light Chaser" is on?" Lumian suddenly made a guess.
Gabriel rubbed his messy brown hair, smiled and said:
"Not yet, but after rehearsing for a while, both Mr. Lopp and the directors and actors of the Fuxing Theater are very optimistic and very confident. I don't have to worry about moving to a more expensive place and spending all the 1,000 advance fee." There is no question about how Er Er will live after receiving royalties. You know, I no longer write vulgar and vulgar stories for those tabloids."
"Where do you plan to move to?" Lumian asked casually.
Gabriel said with a longing look:
"On Rue Saint-Michel in District 2, many writers and painters live there. Not far away are the National Museum, Trier Art Center, various galleries and sculptures of different shapes."
District 2 is also called the Art District or the Financial District. Half of it is old and cultural, and the other half is the luxurious buildings that have been popular in the past ten years. It is home to Intis Central Bank, Trier Bank, Suchit Bank, and Asset Credit Bank. The headquarters of other financial institutions and places such as the Trier Stock Exchange and Intis Futures Market.
Rue Saint-Michel is the most peripheral street in the district. The rent is relatively cheap, which has attracted many writers and painters to settle there.
"What a great place. Maybe if you throw a brick, you can knock down three writers and two painters. Oh, and there is also a poet who died without anyone noticing." Lumian recalled Aurore's view of St. Michel Street. Ridiculing, speaking out in his own words, not forgetting to ridicule the poorest group of poets.
Gabriel took a sip of absinthe sheepishly:
"But it is indeed the most suitable place for communication and creation. Unlike here, it is relatively quiet only at night, but it is only relatively, and there are also nasty bed bugs..."
At this point, Gabriel suddenly remembered that the gang leader next to him, who was both rough and ferocious but also had a humane temperament, was the current owner of the Golden Rooster Hotel, and he quickly shut his mouth.
At this time, Charlie finished his striptease, put on his shirt again, squeezed out from the drinkers who "maliciously" commented on his figure, sat next to Lumian, and said casually:
"I've been too busy recently. I haven't been here for several days. I want to sleep as soon as I get home. Look, look, this is the trouble of being a decent person. Hey, why do you suddenly think of large-scale investigations from Kordu? Where are the wanted criminals in the village?”
Yo, you’ve become a lot smarter? Lumian, who was interested in practicing his speaking skills, responded with a smile:
"What does the incident in Cordu Village have to do with me, Charles Dubois?"
After contracting the "Nese Face" from the "Human Face Mantis", he no longer worried about being recognized by the authorities.
Seeing Lumian's confidence, Charlie stopped mentioning the matter and happily talked about how he was actually introduced to a female teacher by a colleague. Although the other party did not like him, it also proved that he was one step closer to becoming a truly decent person. step.
After drinking until almost early in the morning, Lumian and Gabriel, who was moving tomorrow, saw Charlie off and walked up the stairs to the second floor.
Gabriel looked at the corridor wall, which had only one gas wall lamp and was covered with newspapers and cheap pink paper, and suddenly felt a little emotional:
“When I was about to leave, I realized that there was something worth remembering here.
"When I first moved here, I thought that with my talent, it wouldn't take long to get out of this garbage dump, uh, hellish hotel. Who knows, I would live there for ten months, even if I moved to Rue Saint-Michel, I should also often think of the small bar that can be reached downstairs, of the absinthe that made me sober and intoxicated, of the pungent smell of sulfur, of those nasty bed bugs, and of those people who gave me light in the darkness. , Miss Safaree, Charlie, and you.”
As Gabriel spoke, he stopped and reached out to touch the crack in the wall exposed where the newspaper fell off.
"Do you writers just like to express your emotions suddenly and write in long sentences?" Lumian mocked.
Gabriel smiled and said:
“I don’t know if other writers do this, but I do sometimes.
"I have lived here for almost a year, and I have seen many tenants disappear suddenly, leave in a hurry, or end their lives in pain. But the next day, no, maybe just an hour later, there will be new ones. In order to chase the prosperity of Trier and to chase their dreams, the tenants moved into the rooms they left behind. Most of them failed and disappeared like dust, but there will always be batches after batches. When more people come, maybe one or two will be successful.
“That’s where the inspiration for the script for ‘Light Chaser’ came from.”
"You are the successful one." Lumian thought of Mrs. Michel who hanged herself to death while singing the lyrics "This is the City of Joy, This is the Eternal Trier", and he no longer felt like mocking Gabriel.
"Hope." Gabriel's face was filled with a look of anticipation.
He took another step and went up to the second floor, but he didn't stop and seemed to continue going up.
"Are you going?" Lumian could probably guess the answer, but he still asked politely.
Gabriel pointed upstairs:
"Go say goodbye to Miss Safaree and thank her for always encouraging me."
Lumian showed a teasing smile, pinched his lips with his hands, and whistled:
"Have a dreamy night!"
"I didn't!" Gabriel subconsciously denied.
Lumian turned around, walked towards room 207, waved his hand and said:
"Can't a person have a dreamy night alone?"
Gabriel was speechless.
After watching Ciel enter the room, he cleared his throat and continued walking to the third floor.
On the way, he remembered many past events, including the first time he met the mannequin Safaree, the first time he talked about creation with her, and the first time he received encouragement...
He knew that mannequins were a profession with very low incomes. The most popular male models only cost 80 or 90 Firkin a month, and the average one might only cost 60 or 70, which is equivalent to a trainee waiter in a hotel. The female model even more With only about 40 Firkin, there is no way to support myself, so I can only work as a part-time job. It is impossible for anyone to choose to expose their body and become a model for a painter because of laziness and greed for enjoyment.
The same is true for Safaree, who endures criticism just to make a little more money and to change her current situation.
Gabriel stopped outside room 309 and knocked gently on the door.
"Please come in." Safaree's slightly hollow voice came out.
Gabrielle pushed open the door and saw Safaree standing in front of the wooden table by the window. Her aqua blue dress slipped off her body and piled on the floor.
Under the crimson moonlight, Safaree's brown eyes were wandering, her brown hair was disheveled, and her fair body was inlaid with human faces one after another.
Some of them were gorgeous, some were ferocious, some were handsome, and some were sinister, and they all looked at Gabriel at the same time.
Gabrielle was startled and almost screamed.
"What's the matter?" Safaree's voice with a strong sense of withdrawal sounded again.
Gabriel suddenly came to his senses and realized that the faces were almost real oil paintings, and the canvas was Safaree's body.
Thinking of the other person's occupation as a mannequin, Gabriel didn't ask any more questions and exhaled:
"I'm moving out tomorrow, thank you for your encouragement these past few months."
As soon as he finished speaking, Safaree stretched out her right hand and her eyes became blurred.
Gabriel walked in involuntarily.
Half an hour later, Gabrielle was lying on the bed, hugging Safaree, and said sincerely:
"Come with me to the Rue Saint-Michel."
Safaree shook her head firmly:
"I'm moving away too, to somewhere else."
Gabriel asked:
"Where to go?"
"Go to a place called 'Hostel', there are my friends there." Safaree's voice became a little hollow again.
Gabriel tried again and again, but the mannequin refused.
He had no choice but to leave sadly. Safaree got out of bed naked and watched him walk to the door.
At this time, the red moon was covered and the room was extremely dark. The oil-painted faces on Safaree's body suddenly seemed to come to life, and they all opened their mouths at Gabriel's back.
They eventually calmed down, and Gabriel politely closed the door.
The next morning, Lumian ran, practiced boxing, and looked for breakfast as usual.
After returning to the Golden Rooster Hotel, he saw that Gabriel's room next door was open, with no figure and no luggage.
Curious, Lumian went up to the third floor and found that room 309 was the same.
He immediately said "tsk tsk" and walked back to room 207 with a smile.
Not long after, the "doll" messenger appeared and threw the letter paper folded into squares and a silver-white mask on the wooden table.
Ms. Justice’s reward has come? Lumian was relieved.
