From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

"Are you trying to play hide-and-seek?" Scarlett asked, her face full of curiosity.

Anson spread his hands, "It seems my skills need improvement. I was found out, wasn't I?"

Scarlett couldn't help but chuckle, "I thought you'd left the moment it happened."

Anson maintained his posture, not moving much, only gesturing with his eyes in a certain direction, "Unfortunately, I was held back by the crowd. They were too enthusiastic, I couldn't refuse."

Following Anson's gaze, Scarlett once again saw the long line in front of the Hilton Hotel, and a strange sense of amusement washed over her.

Actors, directors, producers, movie studio executives—at this moment, no one was an exception.

They had to hand their number cards to the valet, who drove a golf cart to a parking lot a mile away to retrieve their car before they could leave.

The reason?

Not enough space.

Tonight, over three thousand people gathered here for the awards ceremony. Everyone had a car, and the Hilton Hotel's underground parking lot alone was far from sufficient.

This was the case in Los Angeles, and the same was true in New York. Those awards ceremony venues always had insufficient parking.

Arriving on the red carpet was glamorous and boundless; after the awards ceremony, it was a disaster.

Actually, the Golden Globes wasn't too bad, after all, the Hilton Hotel had its own parking lot; but the Oscars were held on Hollywood Boulevard, where there was no parking lot. When the awards ceremony ended, the bustling scene was a true… disaster.

So, after the awards ceremony, some people stayed at the venue to continue socializing, some left early to prepare for after-parties, and most could only obediently stand here and wait in line.

The small jest made Scarlett giggle, "You don't need to be so nervous. They're all immersed in their own worlds, they don't have time to pay attention to others. You're safe here."

Anson shook his head with a serious expression, "You should have seen what just happened…"

Before he could finish speaking, a figure passed by, first seeing Scarlett, and then naturally spotting Anson. She immediately squeezed out a sorrowful expression and opened her arms, giving Anson a hug, "Oh, darling, are you okay?"

Jennifer Aniston, in a black, deep V-neck fishtail gown, grand and sexy, yet dragging her long fishtail, stopped specifically for Anson.

Anson looked at Scarlett over Jennifer's shoulder, mouthing, "See, exposed."

Scarlett quickly lowered her head to hide her upturned lips.

Anson responded politely, "I'll be fine, I believe I can get through tonight. Thank you, Jennifer."

Jennifer hugged Anson tightly, "Oh… that's good, really good."

Then, releasing him, Jennifer grabbed Anson's right hand, squeezed it hard, and, with an expression somewhere between sympathy and comfort, tilted her head and looked Anson up and down, "Promise me you'll be okay."

Anson gave her a bright smile in return.

Jennifer was finally satisfied, nodded to Scarlett, and then turned to leave.

Not far away, Brad Pitt scrutinized Anson with a playful expression, without the usual aloofness and unfamiliarity, his eyes flickering in the night—

Unclear.

It was hard to tell whether he was gloating over Anson's "embarrassment" tonight, or empathizing with everything Anson was going through.

Scarlett witnessed all of this, her eyes revealing a hint of amusement. She looked at Anson again, opening her mouth slightly, unsure of how to speak.

Anson, however, seemed at ease, gesturing to his burger, "Do you need to replenish some energy? I have cash, a burger is no problem."

Scarlett couldn't control herself; her smile bloomed perfectly as she watched Anson take another big bite of the burger, his cheeks puffing out, "So, they've always been like this?"

Anson shrugged lightly, raising his hand and waving it in front of his face, indicating his facial expression, "They see restrained sadness and pain on this face. I guess they understand themselves better than I do."

Scarlett took a deep breath, "Originally, I wanted to check on you, but now it seems that if I ask 'Are you okay?' again, you might explode."

"Pfft…" Anson made a sound with his puffed-out cheeks, making an exploding gesture with his right hand, his facial features also cooperating to make an exploding expression.

Scarlett was overjoyed, laughing so hard she was bending over.

Anson raised an eyebrow slightly and took a sip of cola, "Sorry to disappoint you, I'm not heartbroken."

"I don't know what happened to Tom Cruise and Brad Pitt in the past, whether they cried and fell apart after failing to win an Oscar, stuffing their fists into their mouths, living and dying in alcohol, but…"

Scarlett watched Anson make a gesture of stuffing his fist into his mouth, unable to stop her laughter.

"But, I'm very much enjoying everything in front of me."

Scarlett tilted her head and stared at Anson, "Why do I feel like that sentence is weird?"

Anson, "It's like Alain Delon, an exquisite and handsome existence, making one suspect that the creator spent several times the amount of time crafting him; but in movies, he's a detached and empty vessel, his emotions and performances all superficial. Everyone can see that he's 'acting,' dissolving all the surging and delicate emotions in a void abyss."

"If such an Alain Delon could also possess strength, we might have to suspect that the creator spent all his time sculpting him."

"No, that's not fair."

Scarlett laughed heartily, "So, are you comparing yourself to Alain Delon?"

Anson said with a serious face, "I'm not denying it."

Haha, hahaha.

Scarlett burst out laughing, her lungs starting to vibrate intensely. Her laughter was too hearty and unrestrained. She quickly covered her mouth, glancing around in a panic. She could see scattered gazes being cast over, and the scene was too embarrassing. She had to raise her hand to cover her cheeks—

Although the effect was minimal.

Scarlett looked at Anson, her eyes full of smiles, "Has anyone ever said you're narcissistic?"

Anson, "You're the first."

That matter-of-fact expression made Scarlett stunned, and then the corners of her mouth turned up greatly, "What to do, I don't think you're Alain Delon."

Anson opened his mouth slightly, revealing a heartbroken expression.

A sly light flashed in Scarlett's eyes, "In fact, I don't think you should put yourself in the position of a vase. Marlon Brando never thought of himself as a vase, what do you say?"