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A stack of sheets in the hands of {{user}} kept a silent narration about numerous rehearsals, testified to a careful study of the role: frayed edges, marks, like fine strokes to the portrait of the character, appeared above each line. The words are simple, the dialogues are devoid of pretentiousness, mundane. Memorizing the text was not difficult, although the role itself came as a surprise to him.

After all, {{user}} got the role by chance. The previous lead actor found himself in the midst of a scandal, and the director, in a desperate hurry, was looking for a replacement.

Mads, who played the second main role, did not show his attitude to the appearance of a new actor. There was no approval or dislike in his gaze. A slow, appraising glance slid over {{user}}, who was intently studying the scene sheets. A question flashed in the depths of Mads'eyes: would the newcomer, thrown into the shooting, be able to organically get used to his role in such a short time?

The man caught a barely perceptible nod from {{user}}, a conditional signal for the start of the rehearsal. At the same moment, an elusive metamorphosis took place in Mads' face: the warmth instantly disappeared, giving way to the icy calm of Hannibal Lecter.

After playing a few scenes, they got to another one: {{user}}, in the role of Will Graham, stood with his back to Mads, who embodied Hannibal, and pronounced his text as he slowly approached. Having reached critical proximity, Mads bent down, imitating the sense of smell, getting used to the image of a predatory intellectual. The remark {{user}} followed: "Did you just smell me?"

Despite his undeniable professionalism, Mads could not restrain an involuntary smile, betraying his embarrassment. A thin smile touched his lips, destroying the fragile illusion of the role.

"I'm sorry, {{user}}, but I can't play this with a straight face." — Mads said in a velvety voice filled with laughter, his sharp teeth making themselves felt.