39 For the Sake of Dreams (2/2)

”No, Mr. Wang. Please, let me show you what I can do!” Desperation flashed across Michael Pitt's face and eyes. He was a drifter. It had been a year since he'd come to New York. At first, he'd worked as a delivery boy, sending packages from door to door in his bike. He had lived hand to mouth; only by sharing an apartment with nine other people was he able to make ends meet. After about a year, with what little savings he had, he enrolled in a drama school. A few months into his matriculation, however, he lost his job and was stricken by a serious illness. He could hardly make rent, let alone pay his tuition fees. So he made New York University his new home, sleeping on the streets around the campus by night and sneaking into classes by day.

But now he had come to the end of the road. Penniless and starving, he'd even stole a loaf of bread from a bakery a few days ago. He knew not what to do, but he knew he loved to act and he wanted to become an actor. He had wanted to become an actor since he was ten.

Incidentally, it was the episode of The Oprah Winfrey Show featuring Wang Yang that had given him the strength to carry on. He was moved by Wang Yang's success story, and the fact that Wang Yang was only one year older than him made him idolize the man even more. Ever since he'd lain eyes on Wang Yang yesterday at New York University Tisch School of the Arts, he had been following the director everywhere he went, from New York University to his hotel. There was no motive in his doing so. He was a castaway clinging on to a lifeline as tightly as he could.

Before Wang Yang could speak, Michael Pitt started to perform. Like a strange animation sequence, his face morphed into a range of emotions—from a proud guffaw to a long, dispirited face; from the spasmodic grimaces of a rage-fueled man to the woeful frown of a tormented soul. For a long time, Wang Yang stood there and watched him do his thing, not wanting to dampen his spirits. When Michael Pitt was through with his routine, he fixed Wang Yang with his hopeful, bloodshot eyes and said, ”What do you think, Mr. Wang?”

”Michael, that wasn't bad. But…” Wang Yang's feelings strangled him. He had no choice but to bite the bullet. ”I don't have a role for you.”

”God… F*ck!” Michael Pitt buried his face in his hands in agony. Sobs shook his shoulders. His breath drew in and breathed out again in a long sigh. ”Why? Why isn't there any role for me?”

His sobs shook Wang Yang too. He breathed through his nose, feeling as though his heart had been seized by a mysterious force, suffocating him. It was as painful for him as it was for Michael. He was doing to Michael what the film companies had done to him when he started out. Sadly, it could not be helped. Wang Yang gritted his teeth and consoled the boy, ”Sorry, Michael. I'm really sorry.”

”It's all right, Mr. Wang. I understand…” His hands dropped, his head drew backward, and his pink eyes flashed up. For a moment he stood tottering. Then, he wiped his nose with his sleeve and started backing away. In a fit of anger, his hands went out in a violent gesture and his voice became high and constricted. ”F*ck! F*ck! F*ck! D*mn it! F*ck!” He looked at Wang Yang indignantly as he backed away, his eyes swimming in tears, and his face drowned in disappointment. ”I won't give up, Mr. Wang! I'll become an actor! You'll see!”

Pedestrians twisted their curious heads and watched as Michael Pitt went all to pieces. At a distance, Wang Yang watched the broken shell of a boy receding, causing a spectacle along the way. His hands clenched. The pain he felt for the boy was so real it stung his heart. How could he be so cruel? How could he be such an a*shole? ”D*mn it!” he said to himself. The pain was too much to bear. Finally, he shouted, ”Michael!”

Michael Pitt was trembling in every part. He stopped in his tracks and looked at Wang Yang as if about to speak. But suddenly, they saw a policeman a few yards away heading toward them in quickening footsteps. He was looking Michael Pitt's way and seemed to be zeroing in on him. Panic seized Michael Pitt and he began to run away from the approaching officer.

”Hey, Michael! Dude!” Wang Yang called out to Michael Pitt's back. The boy ran quickly down the street, went around a corner, and was out of sight in the blink of an eye. ”Did that kid commit a crime?” Wang Yang thought to himself as he looked the policeman's way. The policeman was strutting casually and did not seem to have noticed Michael Pitt. Wang Yang scrunched his hair and sighed resignedly.

Wang Yang stood waiting for a good while, but Michael Pitt did not come back. It was getting late, and he had to go. Wang Yang hurried around the street to the parking lot, hopped into his car, and drove off to the audition.

It was nearly ten o'clock when Wang Yang arrived at the café where the audition was supposed to be held. Tom Welling and his agent, Larry Johnson, were already there. When Larry Johnson saw Wang Yang come in, he stood up and waved at him from his table. ”Mr. Wang, over here,” he said smilingly. Tom Welling stood up too and acknowledged Wang Yang with a friendly smile and nod.

Wang Yang went over to them and shook both their hands. Greetings and introductions were exchanged. Then, Wang Yang sat down, ordered a cup of coffee from a waiter, took a look at Tom Welling, and remarked jovially, ”Wow, nice muscles!”

Tom Welling was wearing a tight-fitting t-shirt, which made his muscles look all the more prominent. He was strikingly handsome that day, and Wang Yang was pleased with what he saw. Tom Welling took the compliment with a smile, ”Thanks,” then added with a shrug, ”Mr. Wang, you don't look too bad yourself.”

”Call me Yang,” Wang Yang said smilingly. He looked Tom Welling up and down as if estimating his weight. ”Tom, if you please, could you stand up and let me take a good look at you?” Tom Welling nodded and rose from his chair. ”Okay, now turn around and show me the other side,” said Wang Yang, making a twisting motion with his hand as if he were manipulating an action figure. He had seen Tom Welling in Cheaper by the Dozen in his mind and was impressed by how he looked in that movie. But that was in the future in 2003. He wanted to see how Tom Welling would look on camera now when he was 21 years old.

Very good. Nice physique. Beautifully chiseled face. Radiant smile. Great energy. Wang Yang noted in his head and said, ”Tom, give me the most dazzling, sunny smile you have.” Tom Welling obliged. His smile was indeed dazzling and sunny, possessing all the qualities one would expect from a captain of a basketball team. He also had the warmth and innocence of a boy-next-door. Wang Yang was visibly impressed. ”Wonderful!” he said, taking his coffee from the waiter and sipping it. ”Now Tom, let's see if you can act,” he continued with a smile.

Tom Welling nodded and sat down. ”Okay, what should I do?” he asked.

For the next few minutes, Wang Yang put Tom Welling through his paces with various acting prompts. At that time, Tom Welling was just a fashion model. Though he was passionate about acting, he'd never had the chance to do so professionally. He had taught himself everything he knew, and it showed. His performance was amateurish and lacked finesse, but he personified so many of Troy Bolton's qualities that, save for the occasional smile and acting cool, he hardly needed to act.

Although his acting was amateurish, it was not disastrous. All he needed was more time and patience. And more film. Besides, there was no one even remotely qualified for the part except for Tom Welling that Wang Yang did not even care if he could sing. Even before he came to New York, he had decided to forego the singing part of the audition. It was not vital that the actors sang well from the get-go; the plan was to train them or hire a professional to sing in their stead.

With that, Wang Yang looked at Tom Welling and smiled, ”Tom, I think girls are going to fall heads over heels for you soon.”

Wang Yang's generous remark filled Tom Welling and Larry Johnson's faces with rapture. Larry John reached his hand out to Wang Yang and said, ”Mr. Wang, thank you for giving us this opportunity.”

Galvanized, Tom Welling added, ”Yang, thank you so much!”

Wang Yang reached out his hand to shake Larry Johnson's. The agent said jokingly, ”You know, Jamie's going to kill me for turning her boyfriend into every girl's fantasy.” Tom Welling smiled. His smile was like that of a young man falling in love for the first time.

Wang Yang saw his expression, and his eyes lit up. There were many scenes in the movie where Troy Bolton had to appear shy in a deep, subtle way. There were also scenes where he had to blush and act bashful. Tom Welling's expression was perfect for those scenes. ”How I wish I could shoot the movie right here and now.” Wang Yang said breathlessly.

Wang Yang could not have been happier with Tom Welling, but he did not commit to choosing him as the leading man after the audition at the café. Instead, he told the actor and his agent that he was a priority candidate. He wanted to see what other actors were recommended to him by the New York actor's guild and the other talent agencies before he made his decision. Nevertheless, Tom Welling was pretty much a shoo-in. He ticked all the boxes, including affordability.

After the audition, Wang Yang resumed his tour of the city and visited several attractions. At dusk, he rode his car back to the hotel.

He took a hot shower as he had done yesterday, went to the balcony, and looked out onto the streets. There was that familiar figure again wandering back and forth on the street with his hands jammed down in the pockets of his worn coat and his shoulders slumping.

”Sh*t!” Wang Yang took a deep breath and cursed as soon as he saw that figure. He hurried inside, slung on his clothes, and ran downstairs.

Wang Yang came in a short while to the street outside. He dashed straight to the bench, yelling at the blonde figure who sat on it, ”Michael, is that you?”

On the bench, Michael Pitt twisted his head and saw Wang Yang coming at him. He stood up, reeking of failure and desperation. His face was gaunt and putty-colored like a dying man.

”Michael.” Wang Yang slowed to a halt before Michael Pitt. ”Are you just going to stay out here all night?” he asked with a frown. Michael Pitt said nothing. Wang Yang frowned even harder. ”Have you had dinner?”

Michael Pitt moved his lips but made no sound. He produced a creased pack of cigarettes and tried to extrude a cigarette but failed. He put it back into his pocket, shaking his head. ”Mr. Wang, I'll be fine, so get off my case,” he said.

”Get off your case?” Wang Yang laughed incredulously. Hot with sudden outrage, he waved his fist threateningly at Michael Pitt and yelled at him, ”You think I'm going to stand here and watch you get soaked in rain and go hungry? F*ck you! Get out of my sight before I punch you in the face!” Wang Yang hunched over, catching his breath and watching Michael Pitt's pale white face. ”Come with me. The weatherman said it's going to rain tonight,” he said, feeling slightly better.

Wang Yang walked on a few steps toward the front door of the hotel and then stopped. Michael Pitt was still standing by the bench, looking hesitant. Wang Yang beckoned to him and hollered, ”Come on! Don't worry, I'm not gay!”

Michael Pitt smiled. He followed Wang Yang back to the hotel. Inside the room, having taken a hot shower and dressed in Wang Yang's clothes, he scarfed down a plate of food. Loud gulps were heard now and then as his throat could not keep up with his mouth.

”Dude, take it easy,” said Wang Yang. He was sitting beside Michael Pitt, watching in awe as he polished off his plate with a ravenous appetite. Clearly, the boy had not eaten in days. Curious, Wang Yang searched on the screen of his mind for the name, ”Michael Pitt”, but there were no movies or news associated with that name. But he knew his mind did not contain all the movies in the world. For instance, it did not contain even a single documentary, and biographical films were limited to those of a few famous historical figures. It could very well be a coincidence that Michael Pitt was not part of any of the films in his head.

Wang Yang let out a sigh. Remembering what had happened that morning, he asked, ”Michael, why were you so afraid of that cop? Did you do something wrong?”

”Oh,” Michael Pitt stopped chewing and answered embarrassedly, ”A few days ago I was so famished that I stole a loaf of bread from a bakery…”

Stole a loaf of bread? Wang Yang chuckled, but his heart went out to the boy. It took him back to the meagerness of living on an empty stomach. There were days when he had only a few dollars in his pocket and he had to stretch his meals. Michael Pitt made it sound easy. But Wang Yang knew how hard it must have been for him that he had to steal a loaf of bread to get by.

Wang Yang stood up, patted Michael Pitt on the shoulder, and consoled him, ”Dude, don't worry about it. I don't think the bakery reported you to the police. That cop didn't even notice you this morning. He was just passing by.”

”Really?” Wang Yang nodded. Michael Pitt breathed a huge sigh of relief. He melted into his chair, shut his eyes, and said with beatitude, ”Oh, thank God!” Then, he continued to carve away at the mountain of food before him. With a stuffed mouth, he said, ”This incident has been keeping me on edge for days. Every time I see a cop on the streets, I get the feeling they're after me. I'm so worried about possibly going to jail, I think I'm losing it!” The food went down in a satisfying gulp, and he said merrily, ”D*mn, that's good eating!”

Michael Pitt, clothed, fed, and reassured, burst into volubility of speech. He was much more animated and cheerful now than Wang Yang had ever seen him. Wang Yang was not quite sure how he felt about him stealing bread. As he stood leaning against the wall and looking at Michael Pitt, he was reminded of Anne, of that blond bombshell he'd met yesterday, and of himself. Why would a man put himself through such misery? Suddenly, he asked, ”Michael, why don't you go home? At least at home, you've got a warm bed, your Mom, and all the delicious, homecooked meals you can eat.” Then, he shrugged with a smile, ”Don't tell me—you're an orphan.”

”No. I have three brothers.” With a half-eaten burger in his hands, Michael Pitt lifted his eyes and fixed them on Wang Yang in questioning or rebuke. ”Didn't you say it yourself on The Oprah Winfrey Show? You said we should stay true to our dreams. You said we should find our purpose in life. Yours is making movies; mine's becoming an actor. I'll never give up on my dream, even if it means having to sleep on the streets.”

”Did I say that?” Wang Yang asked, furrowing his brows. Then, he smiled and answered himself, ”Oh right, I did say that. So does that mean you've become a hobo because of me?”

That comment got a few good chuckles out of Michael Pitt. But then his face slowly turned somber, and he retorted in a serious tone, ”Why should I go home? I've promised myself I'd become an actor since I was ten. I came to New York, made a living, went to drama school… everything's going fine! I'm working toward my dream. All I need is a chance. So why should I go home?”

”Yeah, why go home?” Wang Yang smiled. After all, staying true to his passion had paid dividends for him. If he had given up in the first place and went back to his warm bed and delicious, homecooked meals, he would never have been so fulfilled. There would always be a cold void—a pang-like hunger. Without that spark in his life, his body would be comforted but his soul would be deprived. ”It's for the sake of your dream, isn't it?”

Michael Pitt nodded silently. ”For the sake of my dream,” he said.

There was a long silence. Wang Yang stroked his beardless chin ruminatively and looked into Michael Pitt's haggard face. Suddenly, he said, ”Say, Michael, there may be no roles for you in High School Musical, but we could always use some help on the set. Besides, I'm adding a minor role to the movie and I think you'll be a great fit. You'll get a couple of seconds of screen time with dialogue. Are you in?”

Michael Pitt looked up at him and said flatly, ”Are you doing this out of pity?”

”No,” Wang Yang shook his head and said with a sincere smile, ”No, not pity. I'm just helping a dreamer a little along his way, that's all.” He could not help everyone but he could help the boy easily. He smiled and said, ”Think about your dream. What do you say?”

For a long second, Michael Pitt stared at Wang Yang unblinking. Then, suddenly, he took a big bite out of his burger. A brilliant smile took over from the haggardness of his face, and with a quaking voice, he answered, ”I'm in!”