"Mr. Neil Caffrey, what wind brought you here?" The man called Brown quickly adjusted his expression, showing excitement and joy as if he wanted to delay time.
But what surprised me was that the peacock beside me was actually a famous person. And for his name, I have long heard. Four years ago, when I was in a mental sanatorium, I had read in the newspapers that the famous fraudster Neil Caffrey had been brought to justice.
Neil Caffrey enjoyed the victory and said happily: "I just heard that you seem to have started to study art again recently. Everyone has similar interests."
Just then, I glanced around and noticed a strangely-behaved female clerk standing beside the cashier. Her slightly forward leaning body revealed her uneasy emotions. Similar to several men and women standing outside the store, all wearing suits and leather shoes, they moved their bodies to pay attention to the situation here, and they were about to move. .
"Oh, don't say that. How can I compare to you with my little taste? If you..." Brown exaggeratedly waved his hands ashamed, then pretended to suddenly think of it, and changed the conversation, "Look at us here Disturbing the quietness of the guests? If you have something to say, why don't you say it in another place."
Neil Caffrey was silent for a few seconds without speaking, and then he said blankly: "Brown, the FBI suspects that you are involved in a recent art theft case, and I hope you can come back with us to assist in the investigation."
I raised my eyebrows and looked at the men and women in suits who were standing outside the store, and strode in. It seems I guessed right, they are FBI agents.
"You're just being suspicious, Mr. Caffrey." To their surprise, this Brown didn't even have the slightest struggle or desire to escape. He just raised his hand and said calmly.
Oh, no wonder he seemed so calm. I looked at the female clerk behind the cashier. After the group of people who looked like FBI agents entered the store, she quietly left the store from the blind spot of their line of sight.
A new generation of counterfeiters, technical masters of art, with excellent artistic skills... I thought back to the descriptions of Neal Caffrey that I had seen before. Turning his head and looking at the man beside him, he couldn't help holding his forehead. Why on earth would I want to seriously study his deception style...
Such a high-profile and stinky deception, yet so careless. I have already thought about how narcissistically deceived the trust of others and disguised his identity when Peacock really opened his screen. His excessive self-focus and self-confidence made it easy for him to let go of important clues because of imprudence when helping the FBI in criminal investigations.
Amid the noise like a vegetable market caused by the arrest of Brown by the FBI, I stood up and walked to the cashier where the woman just now was, and went through the borrowing procedure for the book I wanted to read here.
Then I saw the name of the clerk who accepted the book on the borrowing register. Also the name of the woman who slipped away, Nora Brown. The same last name as Mr. Brown, who was caught.
The FBI agent who escorted Brown quickly left, but I turned to look at Neal Caffrey, who was reluctantly following behind and was about to leave. "Won't you pay for the coffee, sir?"
It would be fun to let Neal Caffrey, who hates paying for himself the most and who has been relying on blunt words to get everything he wants, pay for coffee here. Then pay me for providing information to the FBI, a joke that will keep me entertained for a week.
My words made Neil Caffrey come over with a dark face, he took out some change and walked over to me and looked into the cashier. Then he asked, "Where's the clerk?"
"Maybe the commotion just frightened her away?" I blinked at him. "I don't know why you look in a hurry, that... Miss Nora Brown?"
Originally, Neil Caffrey just had an impatient look on his face, but when he heard the name I mentioned at the end of the sentence, his eyes widened and he turned to look at me. "Who are you?! How did you know this name?!" He took a cautious step back.
"I'm just a customer of the book bar who was disturbed by your noisy and big moves." I smiled innocently, "When I came to borrow books, I saw the clerk was not there, and I went through the book borrowing procedures myself. You can check in Her name is on the directory."
Neal Caffrey was stunned, then hurried over to the register to check the veracity of what I said. Then he frowned and took out his phone and made a call. "We were all wrong! Nora Brown didn't part ways with him, she was in this book club five minutes ago!"
While Neal Caffrey was in a hurry to talk to the person on the phone, I turned and walked outside the book bar. When passing Neil, he and I deliberately whispered in his ear and said, "Never think of yourself as the smartest person in the room, be careful to lose Jingzhou..."
Although Neil Caffrey's deception style is not suitable for my character, his deception skills and language art are very useful for me to disguise as a normal person to mix in the crowd, or to remain anonymous after the crime is actually committed one day. escape, but it is very important knowledge.
If it can attract his attention, it is estimated that it can be used as a hidden investment to connect with him when there is a chance to meet him in the future. As long as I can learn a thing or two from him, I also earn it.
Neil Caffrey anxiously watched me leave, and tried to stop me several times. I just turned my head and smiled at him, then turned and left without hesitation. After all, I don't know who the cat is that can catch such a naughty mouse, and it can even train a cunning fox into a beagle, which is not something ordinary FBI can do.
I don't want to confront the FBI too early, be investigated, and be treated as a potential criminal on the grounds of mental instability.
A week passed quickly, and it was no surprise to receive the official notification that I had entered the semi-finals. I also know the outcome of the final originality and plagiarism from the newspapers. The New York Times reported on the follow-up of the Ramshen Gallery theft, a case committed by the ex-convict Brown and his daughter, which was finally cracked by the FBI.
I packed up, picked up my suitcase, and got on the plane where the program team reimbursed the airfare. The audition for America's Next Top Model was in New York, but the actual filming did take place in Los Angeles.
At the meeting point at Los Angeles International Airport, there seemed to be only male models on the bus, and young men with strong hormones shouted in front of the camera where the girls were.
Everyone on the bus started to introduce each other. The outgoing boys heated up the atmosphere. I sat in the bus and watched the atmosphere become polarized. The extroverted boys gathered in the front seat, which was filmed by the camera, while the introverted boys sat in the back seat with a smile and watched them make a fuss.
Everyone's personality and appearance are unique, and I looked at people and judged their personalities in their hearts. A male model next to me approached me, "Hi, I'm Ashton. You're Brian, right? ... I remember you, Stanford psychology student!"
I'm not surprised that he avoided the first half of my story. I remember this male model, Ashton, who was one of the models waiting in the room, listening to my full story.
"Hello, Ashton." I smiled and reached out to shake his hand. "I remember you. You were there."
Ashton has a very short black curly hair, it can be seen that he is a mixture of black and white, but the skin is white, the outline is black, and the blue pupils give people an exotic look. , the atmosphere is unique. He looks confident and outgoing.
It's just that his weakness is that he is too feminine, which is very fatal when shooting hard photos of working with female models. He's gay, and it's obvious from his actions.
"Wow, you actually got into Stanford University? That's amazing." Another boy sitting in the front seat also turned around and spoke. "Unlike me, you can't study! Hi, my name is Marvin." He reached out to me and Ashton.
Marvin has black shattered hair and looks mixed race. Hispanic genes are dominant, and there seems to be brown mixed blood, but he has fair skin. Marvin's cheekbones are high and the contours are deep, giving people a high-fashion look. With a little elaboration, it can be imagined that he will be the type that photographers like.
Marvin didn't like to talk at first, but after getting acquainted with him, you will feel comfortable chatting with him. He must have many brothers and sisters. It can be imagined that if he lives in a big house, he will definitely be the head of the Boys Gang. During the conversation, he always mentioned the excitement of seeing a female model. The introverted hormonal animal is called Mansao for short, and it should be able to show strong lethality when photography is needed.
However, he also has a weakness. Even if his facial features are excellent in hard photos, when he faces the catwalk, his temperament will be weakened, and he will not be able to give people a stunning feeling. Without fame, it might be difficult for him to get a catwalk job from a designer.
Many people will feel that the impression of a model is very rigid, just a living shelf for displaying clothes. But in reality that's just the illusion that most famous models are quiet at work.
The ability to focus on styling and how to present the product at work is the ability to pay attention to detail. For male models, I can almost predict that only introverted boys like car guards are the most likely to make it to the end.
Because most girls are naturally detail-oriented, but most boys are full of energy. If they can't focus on their work, can't calm down while filming, it's going to be the worst factor for them.
Before I could pull the brown-blond-haired boy who was sitting in the far corner, who had been trying to interject, but could only laugh awkwardly, into the conversation, the bus had already arrived.
It's a quaint big theater in downtown Los Angeles, and I just hurriedly exchanged names with the brown-blond-haired guy before getting off the bus.
The boy's name is Chris, and he has a standard Germanic appearance, with long narrow cheeks and raised eyes that make him look very cold and bad boy when he's not smiling. In the second election, he also told a story of his own, but compared to my story, which was as dramatic as a reprint of Les Miserables, his story only aroused sighs from the audience.
He is the child of a single parent family, his mother apparently gave birth to him through an accidental pregnancy, and she is not a competent mother, she did her duty to raise him, and then abandoned him on his eighteenth birthday, and disappeared. Without a trace. Since then, Chris has been on the streets several times.
It can be imagined that when he was really in trouble, his former friends and friends scattered in a hurry. His slightly embarrassed feeling when interacting with people brought the slenderness and tension of his character to me. If he gets into trouble with people in the villa, it may affect his hard photo shooting.
We followed the crowd into the backstage of the theater as I finished profiling a new competitor. The rows of dressing tables and the clothes hanging in a row indicate that today's task will be the catwalk. I looked at the masks on each dressing table, maybe even a masquerade-themed show.