Chapter 72: AFI Fest

September came around and Joaquin only kept upping the ante, the promotions of Tyler’s movie overshadowing [Silver Comets] last trailer.

It also didn’t help that he’d just happened to have the popstar’s movie also release in theatres on the very same day Vrael Productions had announced they’d be releasing theirs.

October 20th.

That said, the opening night of the AFI Fest had finally arrived.

As was customary every year, the festival boasted a bustling celebration of cinema, and with it, several high-profile individuals ranging from A-list movie stars, renowned directors, veteran producers, and studio executives attending the event.

There were also a good number of special guests, members of the press, and pass-holders whom were also in attendance, each and everyone of them swarming over to the TCL Chinese Theatre.

Under its massive pagoda roof, its forecourt was currently crowded with filmmakers, critics, distributors and moviegoers, most eager for the festival’s opening night.

Enormous, long banners were also hung about, each fluttering in the evening breeze and adding to the overall flamboyance of the venue as the spotlights theatrically crisscrossed overhead from time to time.

Then there was the deep, red carpet... lined all the way from the curb to the theatre’s grand entrance.

Barricades, as usual were set up in the form of railings, the security on standby and keeping the press and reporters at bay as cameras flashed and erupted almost nonstop.

Yet, for as enthusiastic as everything seemed...

No one really gave two hoots about the actual opening movie of the night to kick off the festival, [Silver Comets].

Instead, all that enthusiasm was reserved for the several Academy Award winners arriving one after another.

It was also why, as Niall drove his modest BMW down to the venue, his hair in a neat quiff and a new, crisply-pressed black suit hugging his frame like second skin, he seemed to draw next to no attention as he stepped out of his vehicle and made his way down the red carpet.

Naturally, a few photographers instinctively lifted their cameras and clicked pictures, nothing more than a professional courtesy of course.

Even though a good number of them were aware he released a hit song earlier in the year, this was a festival to celebrate films and those involved in them, not a music festival for musicians.

As a result, no sooner had yet another renowned director arrived, most of the photographers peeled away towards the man, their flashes blinding as they rapidly clicked photos while calling out;

"Samuel! Hey, Samuel! Over here!"

Still, as Niall was making his way down the red carpet without bothering to draw attention to himself, save for the occasional clicks here and there, he soon found himself in the arrival area.

Just as he was navigating his way through the crowd in an effort to meet with everyone else, one reporter in particular caught sight of him and immediately called while walking over;

"Hey! Niall! Please! Over here! Can I get a minute?!"

Pinpointing the source of it near instantaneously, Niall turned in the man’s direction.

He looked to be a rather young journalist, his black hair neatly combed and slicked back. If Niall had to guess, he was probably barely over twenty-two in age.

He also had a rather warm outlook to him, his features soft and approachable.

Not that it stopped Niall’s guard from being up, his mantra ringing in his head as a reminder;

The media is NOT your friend and will never, ever be. Don’t take yourself too seriously, but also think thrice before you speak.

Offering the man in question a cordial smile, his cool-gray irises flicking over to his pass for a brief instant, Niall greeted with an extended handshake and introduced himself nonetheless;

"Nice to meet you, Tom Jiggs. I’m Niall Parker."

"Thank you so much! I’m a big fan! Can we get a close-up photo?" the man rapidly fired instead, his gaze hopeful as he gestured to the cameraman next to him.

Afterall, given the first movie of the day would be starring him in the lead role, it was only natural that he might be inclined to be in a hurry to get into the main theatre.

That was why Tom felt he couldn’t waste his time with too much pleasantries

"Sure." Niall on the other hand replied simply, posing for a brief second as Tom’s cameraman took the shot.

"Thank you so much! If you don’t mind, could I ask you a couple questions?" the journalist then asked, his mic leaning over as in an inviting gesture.

"Be my guest." Niall gave him the floor.

"It’s your very first leading role in a movie, and yet, it’s opening the AFI Fest. Are you at all excited or overwhelmed by it?"

"Excited? Yes. Overwhelmed? Not so much." the young actor replied, his tone neutral.

"You must have some real nerves of steel, then." Tom joked to which Niall simply offered light smile in response.

Smiling much the same, the reporter then asked another question;

"So, what made you conceive the idea to not just write, but have [Silver Comets] produced?"

To that, Niall took a brief moment to offer a thoughtful expression, his cool-gray irises contemplative.

Then, with a genuine smile--not the media trained one he’d been using thus far--he replied shortly;

"Growth. I felt the strong need to grow and improve my craft."

A bit stunned by the answer--partly because of the genuinity to his words, and partly because of the way his features lit up--Tom soon replied;

"That’s great to hear. Thank you so much for your time. I’m really looking forward to the movie."

"Thank you for saying that. It was my pleasure, too. I hope the movie will be worth your while." Niall simply exchanged a handshake with the man and was on his merry way immediately after.

"We could’ve interviewed someone more worthwhile in that same time, you know?" Clinton, Tom’s cameraman remarked in mild disinterest.

"Maybe... but it doesn’t matter. Our magazine’s nowhere near popular enough that people would want to watch our content, anyway." Tom replied to which he then said;

"Might as well interview whoever’s of interest to us then."

Bobbing his head in agreement to that, Clinton simply followed behind Tom as they moved on over to another celebrity they could interview.

As for Niall, he just so happened to run into a familiar face yet again.

"Hello, Callow." Niall greeted his former agent, a beaming smile on his features as the man glared daggers at him.

It quite looked like the young actor even wanted to strike up a conversation with him... something he actually did do as he patted the agent’s shoulder;

"Save the seething for later. Trust me, you’re gonna need it."

Then, just as quickly, Niall waved him goodbye in a vague gesture as he walked past, a reserved smile and a hint of mischief on his features;

"Goodbye."

To say the man was befuddled by Niall’s actions was putting it lightly.

Asides from internally fuming already, his expression twisting in utter irritation, he was actually very wary of Niall’s words.

Given how little he’d come to realize he’d known of someone that had literally been under him for close to eight years, he knew better than to take those words at face value.

As a result, anxiety soon crept into the caricature of emotions he was currently experiencing.

In any case, Niall had already found Sam, Archie and Lucas.

The only problem...

They were currently locked in a ’conversation’ with a certain, disgustingly handsome young man with ash-brown hair and inky-black irises.

"Well, I’m glad to see that you’re all doing... well, I guess?" Tyler egged on the trio who honestly wanted to sock him a good punch.

But at the same time, they knew better than to do that, hence why a cordial smile remained on their lips.

Thankfully, Niall couldn’t have picked a better time to come around as he spoke;

"Oh, hey guys."

Then he turned to face Tyler, his expression curious as he asked;

"Who’s this?"

As the trio turned their attention to Niall, they watched as he extended a handshake to Tyler;

"Niall Parker. I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting."

Tyler looked rather confused, his face contorting in mild confusion.

Was Niall bullshitting him?

Given how much he had ’suffered’ because of [Hello, Goodbye] on the charts, there was no way he hadn’t done his research to know whom exactly it was that made the song.

Yet, that very same person was currently pretending not to know him.

However, judging by the reserved smile plastered on his lips, he couldn’t help but wonder if Niall actually didn’t know who he was as he received the handshake, his tone pompously proud as he replied;

"Tyler Kingstone."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Kingstone." Niall politely said, his expression much the same.

Clearly, that seemed to have rubbed off Tyler the wrong way as Niall refused to acknowledge him.

Instead,

"Well, I presume the others must be waiting for us." he turned to face the trio and said;

"We’d best be on our way."

Then, with the very same reserved smile he’d been regarding him with thus far, Niall bade Tyler farewell;

"Perhaps we’ll run into each other again, Mr. Kingstone."

No sooner had he said that, he composedly walked away, the trio trailing behind him.

Yet, all three were doing their absolute best to suppress their laughter, especially because the confounded look on Tyler’s face had been nigh perfect.

It was at that moment that Tyler also realized that Niall had in fact, been bullshitting him.

Unfortunately, there was little he could do here to retaliate, and not especially in this crowded venue filled to the brim with Hollywood’s high-profile individuals and his fellow industry peers.

As a result, he had no other choice but to glare at Niall’s back as he vanished into the crowd alongside Sam, Archie and Lucas.

That aside, the quartet soon found themselves meeting up Harrison, Victor and of course, Henry.

Upon arrival,

"Ah, there they are. Men of the hour!" Henry remarked, a genuine smile on his lips.

Exchanging greetings amidst themselves after that, it didn’t take long before they found themselves engaging in mundane discussions.

Twenty minutes later, everyone was ushered into the main theatre.

So, as the auditorium lights gradually dimmed and conversations faded, the enormous screen flickered to life without any fanfare or enthusiasm from most people in the room.

Afterall, [Silver Comets] wasn’t the film everyone had circled on their schedules.

It wasn’t the awards juggernaut.

It wasn’t the latest prestige drama from an Oscar-winning director.

Nor was it the newest franchise installment boasting a nine-figure budget.

Rather, it was a coming-of-age musical about four struggling young men trying to win a Battle of the Bands competition.

An original film...

Written by a largely unpopular B-list actor who happened to also be playing the lead role.

It also happened to be from a production company whose biggest successes thus far had been modest critical acclaim and commercial runs, rather than commercial dominance.

To many in attendance, it was simply ’that music movie.’

Yet, as the opening credits of the movie phased onto the screen, everyone watched on nonetheless.

Afterall, there had to be some reason the committee had opted to make it the movie that would open the festival.

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/Caer07