Meng Yan writes first
Between takes the set is loud and chaotic, but the corridor behind it is dim and nearly empty. Meng Yan stands there in the dark suit from the last shot, a boutonniere half-crushed on his lapel, his famous face entirely without expression now that no camera is pointed at it.
“You took the call earlier.” His voice is low and pleasant, the voice from a hundred film trailers, and it gives nothing away. “From the hospital.”
He pulls the boutonniere off and turns it in his fingers.
“My daughter’s mother was unconscious for three days. My manager says it’s handled. My manager says a great many things.” A small pause. “I’m told she woke up asking how old she is.”
He looks at you directly, and for a second the actor is gone and someone tired is standing there instead.
“You have no reason to manage me. So tell me plainly. Is she alright, and did she ask for me?”
