[Rebirth] King of Theater

When Luke left, the puzzled look on his face was etched in Al's mind.

God knows that these scalpers are barely a part of the drama industry, right?But I only know how to sell tickets all day long, but I can't even respond to the script, which is really enough!

It's all the result of lack of culture!

Al silently sighed in his heart.

Of course, he wouldn't look down on his little friend because of this, but he couldn't help thinking of something else because of it.

"Mother! Let's take John and Mary to school when it's spring," he said suddenly.

Before saying that, he was already prepared to face the annoying scene of "mother is about to cry and say she has no money again".

But who knows, Mrs. Sylvie was taken aback, and subconsciously put down the work she was doing, with a trance look on her face, and then, she discussed like a normal person and said: "Well , you are right, if the family has rich money, it is indeed time to send them to learn some words. However, John is almost at the age of school, but Mary wants to wait another two years?"

I really didn't expect my mother to have such a normal reaction.

Al couldn't help but look at her differently, and didn't want to argue with her on such a trivial matter. He cooperated very gently and said, "Then let's send John away first. He is a boy. He should go to school to get familiar with the environment first. Protect my sister."

Mrs. Sylvie nodded and continued knitting socks with her head bowed.

Al also went back to the desk to write the script.

But after about a minute or two...

Mrs. Sylvie began to wipe away her tears.

"Mom, it's fine, why are you crying?"

Al reluctantly put down his pen, feeling very irritable in his heart.

"But I, I can't laugh," said Madame Sylvie, sobbing.

"What's the reason? There must be a reason for everything." Al asked puzzled.

"When your father was not dead, he discussed with me in this way before and said that he would send you to school."

"...That's it."

"You are the same as your father! You are obviously poor, but you want to think about it, and you still want to learn from those decent people."

"..."

"But I always depend on him, and I am willing to listen to him in everything, so I sent you to school. It is the same this time. You said that you want to send John and the others to school, so I will rely on you. Maybe this is you Father has a spirit in heaven."

"Maybe, but Mom, there's nothing wrong with going to school."

"I don't know what's right or wrong. I'm very disturbed. Al, think about it. It's only been a few years, and you won't be able to go to school."

"Mom, don't worry, I won't let John and the others fail to go to school like me."

"No, no, I mean, is this fate? We didn't have that fate, so we shouldn't be in school."

"Mom, you think too much. God is too busy to take care of this."

"Who knows?" Mrs. Sylvie thought about it, and then lamented again: "Al, actually, I'm really scared... I don't know exactly what I'm afraid of, anyway, I'm scared...No one used to If you go to school, don’t everyone live a good life? But your father said that going to school is good, and that going to school can change one’s destiny. But isn’t one’s life predestined? Otherwise, how can someone have such a good life from birth? But do some people have to go hungry right after birth? Anyway, I’m confused! It’s just... Do you think that changing the fate will bring bad luck instead?”

"It's pure nonsense." Al concluded decisively.

He stood up, hugged his mother's body, and comforted him in a low voice: "There is nothing that cannot be changed. Mom, you don't have to think too much, I have everything."

Mrs. Sylvie leaned into her eldest son's arms and asked, sobbing, "Really? Al, you won't leave me like your father, will you?"

Al coaxed her with a good temper: "Of course not, I still want you to wear gold and silver in the future! Alright, wipe your nose and stop crying."

Although the eldest son has already replaced her husband as the head of the family.

But to coax my son like this...

Mrs. Sylvie was still a little embarrassed.

She couldn't help sitting up straight again, wiped her face with a towel, and then continued to knit socks seriously.

Al finally returned to the table with peace of mind and continued to write the script.

But after a while, Mrs. Sylvie suddenly said casually like chatting: "By the way, Al. Speaking of which, after you dropped out of school, your school teacher wrote me a letter. They really Interesting, I even sent a letter to the student's home..."

"Ah? What else?"

Al, who was writing the script, raised his head in surprise: "Why don't I know? What was written in the letter?"

"I don't know how to read."

Mrs. Sylvie said very confidently: "How can I know what is written in it?"

"What about the letter?" Al asked.

"I threw it away." Mrs. Sylvie replied, "Anyway, you don't go to school anymore."

"..."

Al took a deep breath: "Okay, good throw! Good throw."

----------

In this way, the exhausting conversation with Mrs. Sylvie was finally over.

Al restrained himself from thinking too much, and continued to write the script with a kind of strong self-control possessed by adults.

But to be honest, writing is not an easy job.

Especially when Mrs. Sylvie interfered so much that she couldn't enter the state at first.

After staying up all night, it was not until four or five o'clock in the morning that I worked hard to write the second act script.

When he got to work, he was so sleepy that he couldn't keep his eyes open. After he handed in the script, he turned around and fell asleep on the table.

Mr. Milson ignored him, took the script of the second act on his own, and read it intently.

But about 10 minutes later, maybe 10 minutes... Anyway, in Al's feeling, he had just closed his eyes when someone pushed him awake.

"What about the next plot?"

Mr. Milson's slightly hairy bald head shone with fluffy golden light in the sun, and his expression under thick glasses was extremely solemn.

"what?"

Al looked at him sleepily, and didn't recover for a while: "Sir, what did you say?"

"What about the next plot? The third act? The fourth act?"

Milson urged and repeated the question in an eager tone.

"This... this..." Al finally regained consciousness.

But he obviously still couldn't understand this strange development, so he could only stammer and ask, "Act [-]? You, you want to see Act [-]? I mean... er, I mean, with this Isn't the manuscript of the two acts enough?"

"Of course not," said Mr. Milson quickly.

But he soon realized that his attitude was a little too hasty, so he coughed twice, restrained himself a little, and said again in a serious tone: "The script looks good so far, um, it's not bad. But I need to read it again." The following plot, preferably the ending, yes, the specific development of the ending can make the most accurate judgment. So, what about the following plot?"

The following plot?

Next, definitely not!

He also said to watch the development of the ending part!

That's too much!

When watching the serialization, I was rushing to end it, is it plausible?

Al, who finally stayed up all night to write the second act, was completely silent.

He stared blankly at the boss in front of him with a pair of green eyes that were flushed from staying up all night, secretly suspecting that the other party wanted to make himself bald.

But at this time, Mr. Milson softened his expression instead: "Oh, are there no chapters later?"

He took the initiative to help find a reason in a very considerate way: "Did the author only send the manuscripts of these two scenes?"

Al nodded frantically.

As a result, Mr. Milson said something like this: "Isn't the author of the manuscript leaving contact information? That's good! Al, you send a letter to the author, will you write it? No, it's okay, very Simple, I will teach you."

"You can introduce the company's situation first. You can ask Alice for a few words in this area. She used to write often. But you must remember that the letter must emphasize our company's good reputation. Let him know clearly that we are definitely not the kind of dirty organization that will usurp and plagiarize other people's works and ideas."

"...If you write it like this, you still don't think it's safe enough. Then you might as well mention my name a little bit."

"To be honest, it's not that I'm thick-skinned or have a high self-esteem, but in the past few years, I, Milson, have indeed gained a bit of a reputation in the theater circle, and I think it can increase people's trust."

"After you finish writing these, you can ask him for the next manuscript. Well, praise him more, try to get all the manuscripts, I want to take a good look."

After finishing the long list, Mr. Milson thought carefully again to see if there were any omissions, and after thinking about it, he couldn't think of anything.

But he was still worried, so he asked: "Let's do this for now, you can start writing letters now. Be simple and sincere, and show me when you finish writing. If there is no problem, we will send it today! Ah, I really hope to see his reply tomorrow and see the following plot smoothly."

Wait, I write a letter?

Write for yourself?

Al was stunned.

But don't wait for him to come back to God...

"What are you standing there for, Al!" cried Mr. Milson.

He yelled loudly and passionately like a dog chasing a rabbit: "Hurry up! Young man! Get excited! Don't sluggish like an old man, hurry up and move! Quickly! Quickly! Quickly!"

Al was driven all the way to take out a pen and paper with a dazed expression, and began to write a letter to the "author of the script".

But the moment he picked up the pen, he shouted in his heart: "My God!"

The child finally found out depressingly...

The frivolous lies before made him fall into such a ridiculous dilemma.

"God is going to punish me!"

"Come on, let's all come and see what happens to a liar!"

"In addition to working hard to write the manuscript, I also have to work hard to create a simple and sincere letter to urge my own manuscript!"