From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

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His heart was pounding wildly.

The fingers gripping the water glass tightened almost imperceptibly, knuckles faintly white, the water inside rippling slightly, betraying his life-or-death tension and excitement.

Little Frank's every cell was screaming for him to flee the scene, to get away from this FBI agent, because he could never be sure when he might slip up, when the other man might notice something amiss. Every second he lingered here, the danger intensified.

Despite all this, he restrained himself—

Haste makes waste.

No one wants to fall just before the finish line, but countless criminals have fallen right before the exit.

Drink water. Be calm. Be composed.

Little Frank's brow unfurled once more, his expression unchanged, but his eyes were slightly deeper, revealing a thoughtful look.

Turning, he scrutinized the FBI agent. The other man could suspect his identity, and he could suspect the other man's identity—that was only reasonable, right?

“Excuse me, could I see your credentials?”

Carl didn't hesitate. “Of course.”

Crisply, openly, Carl pulled his badge from his breast pocket and handed it over—

FBI.

Clearly, Carl wasn't lying.

Carl Hanratty.

He memorized the name.

Little Frank carefully examined the badge, secretly memorizing the information. Having an FBI agent targeting him meant his cover was blown, and he would need to be vigilant from now on.

“Better safe than sorry.” Little Frank quickly scanned the information, but didn't linger too long, avoiding exposing his ignorance of proper law enforcement credentials. He handed the badge back to Carl.

“Bad luck, Carl. Five minutes earlier, and you would have caught him red-handed.”

Little Frank turned back to the desk, using the guise of collecting evidence to gather his key criminal tools, right under the FBI agent's nose.

Carl didn't suspect a thing, even joking with the Barry Allen before him, “No worries, ten seconds later and you'd have been shot dead.”

“Do you mind if I come with you? I have to see this guy.”

Little Frank deftly gathered his things, trying to appear as calm as possible. “Of course, no problem.”

But—

“Do me a favor, wait for me here. I need to go downstairs and grab some evidence; I wouldn't want the maid coming in to make the bed.”

Reasonable.

In that split second, he came up with a perfect excuse, not perfect, but at least it would buy him some time.

Sure enough, Carl didn't suspect anything.

Little Frank walked confidently and steadily toward the door, but he couldn't be hasty, he couldn't be hasty.

“LAPD should be back any minute…”

Little Frank said as calmly as possible, his pace steady as he walked towards the door, the escape hatch getting closer and closer, his heart pounding wildly, slamming against his chest. He had to use all his strength to remain calm and steady, to not betray anything—

“Wait.”

Carl's voice came from behind.

Was he going to fail at the last hurdle, with the finish line so close?

Ultimately, Little Frank was still a thief with a guilty conscience, and his first thought was, “He's onto me!”

Damn it!

Crap!

Hell!

Little Frank finally couldn't hold back, his brow furrowed, his teeth bared in a look of utter anguish, frustrated and annoyed.

The camera caught it.

Throughout the entire scene, he had remained calm and elegant, expressing his emotions and state of mind through subtle details, using fleeting nuances to outline the character's edges.

Until now.

Finally, he saw an “exaggerated” expression. It was precisely this stark contrast that instantly made Little Frank's image vivid and three-dimensional—

Even if he appeared calm, even if he was audacious, even if he was clever, he was still a kid, a minor. The frustrated expression revealed a hint of naiveté and youthfulness, like a lime, tart and refreshing, adding a different kind of charm to his handsome face.

Beautiful!

However, the more it was like this, the more he needed to remain calm, the more he needed to be fully immersed. The entire set quieted down, all eyes focused.

In the scene, Little Frank was caught in a tug-of-war.

What should he do?

The door was just one step away. He could run, he could drop all his tools and flee, hoping to outrun this FBI agent with limited field experience, but he couldn't risk it.

He didn't know if the FBI agent had any partners waiting at the ground floor exit, nor did he know if the FBI agent could draw his gun in time.

However, he wasn't prepared to gamble on those odds.

In just a moment, his heart tugging, he turned left once more—

He stopped, calmed his expression, and turned to face Carl.

He couldn't fail now!

This was the third time he had given up an opportunity to escape, but it was also the most important. He needed to use all his strength and courage to remain calm.

The third time.

A look of certainty flashed in his eyes, the frustration and annoyance quietly hidden, but without deliberately forcing a smile, just as calm as possible, responding with an official demeanor.

With a turn, calmly and composedly, as steadily as possible, imperceptibly, he met Carl's gaze, as if everything was perfectly normal.

Natural light created a wonderful, hazy atmosphere at that moment.

Carl, standing at the foot of the bed, near the window, backlit, looking towards the door.

Little Frank, standing at the door, facing the window, embracing the golden sunlight streaming through the curtains.

A misalignment.

Carl, representing justice, was hidden in the shadows, his face and expression unseen, quietly invisible.

Little Frank, representing evil, was exposed to the sunlight, calmly and openly embracing all scrutiny and observation.

Normally, the gaze should have been directed at Carl, because Carl was the one who broke the silence, Carl was the one in control, and the suspense all rested on him; but instead, Carl's face was completely hidden in the backlight, drawing all the attention to Little Frank, the gaze falling on his face.

Quiet, serene.

Those azure blue eyes were like the Aegean Sea, shimmering with light, the undercurrents quietly disappearing, leaving only white sails and seabirds leisurely roaming.

In a daze, evil seemed to evolve into justice, not vanishing into thin air when exposed to the golden sunlight, but generously showing itself to the world. This candor and sincerity quietly drew every audience member into his camp, as if they were willing to fall into hell.

And then, they couldn't help but side with Little Frank.

They should have hoped that Carl would arrest Little Frank and uphold justice, but at this moment, a thought quietly emerged, hoping that Little Frank would escape successfully.

Knowing it was wrong, knowing it was evil, yet still unable to control such thoughts, the thrill of sin made their mouths dry.

A ray of sunlight, a look in the eye, a wonderful misalignment.

At this moment, an unparalleled atmosphere formed, the god of cinema descending. The whole place was silent.