Chapter 683 - Roaring Maliciously

Fan Valentino-Morales glanced at Paul Walker, who was smiling brightly in front of him. Without hesitation, he raised the glass and poured the whiskey into his mouth, swallowing it cleanly. The cup was empty, dripping slightly as he set it down.

As Vin Diesel had said, Paul was simple, naïve, easily trusting others, and perhaps a bit foolish.

Fan and Paul were not friends, nor had they ever been. The two were entirely different types of people. Paul was approachable and friendly, always mingling with the crew—photographers, martial arts instructors, props staff, and fellow actors. During breaks in filming, Paul treated everyone like a friend, with no airs about him.

But for Fan, these people were irrelevant. They were just ordinary staff members who couldn't help an actor's career, nor open doors to Hollywood connections. To Fan, they were merely there to prove an actor's affability, not to be of any substantial use.

Fan preferred the company of producers, directors, and managers—people who held the power to shape a project and the crew around it. Through careful effort and strategic planning, Fan had earned his place as a producer on Fast and Furious 4, setting him up for future control. By the time the fifth film came around, all it took was one call for Fan to bend the crew to his will. Newcomers learned quickly to respect him—or face his wrath.

Fan had no admiration for Paul. Paul lacked ambition, drive, and aggressiveness. He seemed content to coast along in his career, never pushing for more. When the fourth film came up, Fan had hoped to leverage Paul's influence to pressure Universal Pictures for a producer's credit. But Paul wasn't interested. He only wanted to "enjoy filming," a mindset Fan found maddening.

The worst part was Paul's idealism. He acted as if the world were perfect, a sentiment Fan couldn't understand. They were from two completely different worlds. Fan knew then that they were never going to be true friends.

Still, Fan kept working Paul's relationship for his own gain. Not because of Paul's status in Fast and Furious, but because of his popularity with the crew. Paul's "friendliness" was a strategic asset, helping to keep the movie's positive image intact and, in turn, ensuring its success. As Fan always said, there were no friends in Hollywood—just connections, and everything was a performance.

Before becoming an actor, Valentino had been Fan's friend. They had grown up in the same neighborhood, and Valentino had witnessed Fan's journey to Hollywood. Valentino was more than a friend to Fan—he was family. He had appeared in eleven projects with Fan, often in supporting roles. Valentino had his own place in the Fast and Furious franchise, though he still resented Paul for representing a type of man who had never had to fight for recognition the way someone like him had.

Despite their differences, Fan and Valentino worked together well. The fourth and fifth films had been a success, and Fan was ready to take the next step. But when Paul chose to support Renly—the newcomer who seemed to come from the same privileged world as Paul—it enraged Fan.

It wasn't surprising, really. Renly and Paul shared interests—surfing, rock climbing—things rich people did to feel alive. But to Fan, it was clear: white people stuck together. They didn't understand what it was like to face obstacles based on skin color, and they certainly didn't have to work as hard for their opportunities.

What truly angered Fan, though, was Paul's support of Renly, who was poised to take some of the box office profits that should have been Paul's. Paul was naïve, too trusting, and Fan saw it as an act of stupidity—one that hurt them all.

In the past month, Fan had nearly lost his temper countless times over the issue. If it were anyone else, Fan would have confronted them, but Paul's good-natured persona made that difficult. Fan's anger simmered, but he couldn't afford to alienate the crew.

When the opportunity arose, Fan devised a plan to teach Paul a lesson. Valentino had organized a party, one typically filled with stunning Latino and Italian beauties. But there, among the crowd, was Paul. Valentino saw the situation and called Fan, who was seething.

Valentino had initially planned to corner Paul with his crew—four or five strong Italian men—but too many influential figures were present. So, Fan devised a subtler approach: a game of beer pong.

At college parties, beer pong was simple—ping pong balls tossed into red paper cups. But Valentino had rigged the game. He inserted a card into Paul's cup, making it harder for the ball to land. As expected, Paul lost three rounds in a row, each time drinking a glass of whiskey. Paul wasn't a big drinker, and soon he was visibly off-balance.

To Valentino, this was just the beginning. He was waiting for the moment when Paul's embarrassment would be on full display. It was all a part of Fan's brilliant strategy. Valentino marveled at how smart his friend was.

Paul, realizing his limit after three drinks, waved his hand and smiled, trying to decline. He wasn't a fan of parties, nor alcohol. But Valentino wasn't letting him off that easily. Valentino raised his hand in the air and cheered, "Paul! Paul! Paul!" He encouraged the others to join in, and soon, the whole crowd was chanting, their excitement drowning out the music.

Even those in the pool, not knowing the cause, joined in. The pressure was mounting, and Paul, caught in the moment, had no choice but to comply. With a reluctant smile, he agreed to one last round.

The cheers intensified. As Paul stepped forward to throw the ball, Valentino stepped in to change the cups, adding a final twist. Paul, trying to remain gracious, stepped back, but his balance faltered. Fans and crew members gasped as Paul stumbled, only to be steadied by someone behind him.

Looking up, Paul found himself face-to-face with none other than Renly.