Robert stood beside him and looked at him seriously. He smiled on the surface, but no one could guess the true thoughts in his heart. In fact, Robert was observing Hugo's performance at this time. He was always very curious about why so many film critics praised Hugo. More importantly, many crew members also praised Hugo very much.

You should know that compared to those bigwigs, senior Hollywood staff are often more powerful, such as screenwriters, photographers, dramas, scene notes, lighting artists, makeup artists, etc. Because they are the frontline figures of their work, they have little power, but they can often change more things. Therefore, it is never easy to win the praise of these staff members.

Robert came to the scene today and wanted to observe with his own eyes.

Robert could sense a slight difference, but he couldn't tell the reason. Before the scene was officially put into filming, Hugo sitting on the sofa was different. The slowly settled aura seemed... a little chill, but a little warm; a little alienated, and at the same time, it showed soft and intimacy. This was too contradictory, so that Robert couldn't figure it out at all. But it was certain that just a back view, Robert noticed Hugo's subtle changes.

The sound of the broadcast of the show resounded throughout the set, which made Robert retract his attention and devote himself to it.

Lynn walked into the kitchen, leaving only Cole standing at the door. Malcolm still had a faint smile on his face, as if he was feeling relaxed because of the conversation between Lynn and Cole just now, but the smile did not fully stretch, but just stayed at the corner of his mouth. He tried to relax his shoulders, but when he saw Cole coming, he leaned forward a little and took the initiative and positive attitude.

Faced with Cole, Malcolm seemed too cautious. He always avoided the recurrence of Vincent's tragedy, but Malcolm didn't know which part went wrong. So, this time with Cole was a brand new beginning, Malcolm had to be careful but seemed a little too tight.

"Hi." Malcolm smiled and greeted him softly. Col walked over with a gentle step, but stopped five steps away from Malcolm. Malcolm didn't mind, and pointed his hands at the sofa chair opposite him, "Do you want to sit?"

Cole hesitated to look at the sofa in front of him, then shook his head, but still said nothing.

The alienated warning made Malcolm clearly feel. The smile on the corner of his mouth slightly restrained, but never disappeared. "Don't you want to talk today?" This did not contain any aggressive words and attitude made Cole relax a little, and finally got in touch with Malcolm's sight, but Cole still shook his head gently and did not speak.

Malcolm smiled with a hint of tenderness flashing in his eyes, but his left hand was rubbing against the fingertips of his right hand. The small details revealed his inner tension. "Do you want to play a game?" Malcolm's relaxed tone made Cole look puzzled. Malcolm couldn't help but explain, "It's a game of reading thoughts..." Malcolm's expression became relaxed, and a shallow smile reflected from his eyes, but the depressed and dull atmosphere on the scene still seemed quiet and difficult. "I read your thoughts. If I say it right, you go forward; if I say it wrong, you take a step back to the door. If you walk to the chair, you sit down; if you retreat to the door, you can go. Do you want to play?"

Cole looked at the kitchen with some concern, and the sound of his mother being busy could be vaguely heard inside. Cole thought carefully for a while, then nodded with difficulty.

Robert stood beside him without even notice. He just held his breath, as if the air at the entire scene had solidified.

Hugo was wrong, it should be Malcolm. His expression seemed deep and heavy. His gentle and warm tone was always a little hesitant and uncertain. He tried to relax his emotions, trying to look at the problem from the perspective of a child about ten years old, but the amber eyes were filled with uneasy emotions, flashing gently under the light that was not bright.

Standing opposite Malcolm, Cole's pale face was always filled with a hint of panic, as if a deer who would be alarmed at any time, was so panicked and light that he seemed to be unable to hear any sound. Whenever Malcolm said something about a question, the fear in Cole's eyes deepened, and his wandering eyes created a thrilling atmosphere.

The sparks between Hugo and Haley could be clearly felt even though they were a few steps away from the space. The tight and gentle atmosphere slowly spread out throughout the room like cold and bone-chilling cold air. Even though the room was not cold at all at this time, Robert still couldn't help but shivered twice in a row.

Robert looked at Hugo's eyes seriously. The amber eyes were always filled with a hint of uneasy caution, as if there was a tower in the air in front of him, and it could disappear at any time. The thrilling atmosphere that slowed the heart to the extreme penetrated all the pores in his body and penetrated into his blood, as if he was slowly freezing him into ice.

It is hard to imagine that relying solely on the power of performance, he created that tension, which made Robert unable to help but look back and look behind him, as if there was a spirit behind him standing behind him.

Malcolm's first three questions were unstoppable, allowing Cole to walk three steps forward, only one step away from getting on the sofa chair, which made Malcolm's eyes burst into confidence, but relatively speaking, Cole's eyes became increasingly uncertain, and the faint fear made the air almost suffocate.

But then, Malcolm made a mistake. He saw the old men's watch on Cole's wrist and said in a deep voice, "Leave that watch to you before your father left." But Cole hesitated for a while, but took a step back. This problem that was originally sure was wrong. This made Malcolm's eyes flash slightly, and he was a little uncertain. The confidence he had just established was fleeting like the melting of ice and snow, and even the smile on the corner of his mouth froze slightly.

Cole seemed to have fallen behind Malcolm's emotional fluctuations, and he explained, "He forgot it in the drawer. It's broken."

Malcolm let out a sigh of relief, but his confidence in his heart was difficult to organize again. For the first time, he moved Cole's eyes away, lowering his eyes slightly, hiding the mixed emotions deep in his eyes. His left hand subconsciously grabbed his right hand and gently twisted his fingertips. After a while, the struggle in his eyes was packed up, he raised his eyes again, but the amber light became a little dimmer. "You are very quiet in school, but you have always been a good student and never cause trouble."

Cole's eyes flashed slightly, and he took a step back. This made Malcolm a little anxious. He actually moved his sitting position and stared at Cole's retreating pace, but obviously his confidence was hit hard. He could hardly hide his anxiety. His eyes kept looking up and down at Cole, as if Cole's retreat was repeating Vincent's tragedy, leaving his control bit by bit. But Malcolm could not directly grasp Cole, because this was psychological alienation, and physical control would only aggravate this alienation. This made Malcolm pursed his dry lips continuously, gently pressing his right thumb with his left hand. The fear of fear of completely losing it made the heart beat slower and slower, almost inaudible.

"Once one time," Cole's breath stabilized unknowingly, as if he had been away from Malcolm, which made him feel safe, and even his voice no longer trembled. "Whatever we draw. I drew one person, and the other person stabbed his neck with a screwdriver."

Cole's answer not only made Malcolm lose his confidence, but also became alert. He sounded Vincent again, and his breathing stopped in an instant. Malcolm almost muttered, "Did you see it on TV? Cole."

But Cole took a step back again, but this time he did not explain Malcolm's problem, but continued, "Everyone was angry, they called their mother to school, and her mother began to cry." At this point, Cole's voice began to tremble again, as if he was afraid of something, "I won't draw these later."

"What are you drawing now?" Malcolm could feel Cole's fear, but he couldn't tell why, so he could only continue to ask carefully.

Cole let out a sigh of relief, "I draw... smiling people, running dogs, and rainbows. Drawing rainbows won't cause you trouble."

"Yes, I don't think so." Malcolm pinched his fingers hard, frowned slightly in the middle. Although it was subtle, he could clearly feel the heaviness in his heart.

Cole turned his head and looked at his side, looking up and down, as if someone was standing next to him, which made his eyes even more frightened. He held his breath and said to Malcolm, "What am I thinking now?"

Malcolm bit his teeth tightly, pursed his lips, but finally chose to be honest, "I don't know what you are thinking." This made Cole take a step back again, and the despair in Malcolm's eyes surged up again. Helplessness and gloomy grabbed his heart hard, pinching it hard, but not letting it go. Malcolm was stiff in place, and the sadness between his eyebrows was so thick that it could not be dissolved.
Chapter completed!