From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

In the past five or six years, the music market has become increasingly unified. Rap, dance music, and pop have swept the market with overwhelming force, squeezing the survival space of other music genres. Folk, jazz, bluegrass, soul, and the like are not to mention, and even rock has declined.

Everyone laments, "Rock is dead."

It was precisely because of this that the Grammy Awards last year gave all four major general awards to Norah Jones, which was undoubtedly a feat and won applause.

However, even the Grammys have been trying to find a balance point in the face of market trends. In recent years, they have been slimming down, shortening the duration of the awards ceremony, and reducing the number of award categories. In the past, Grammy nominations could always unearth treasures that would brighten people's eyes, but now they are becoming fewer and fewer.

For niche music and independent music, the space for survival is shrinking.

Worse, musicians are beginning to lose their faith and hope. Either they all start to switch to pop and dance music, or they are completely eliminated.

The once diverse and distinctive music is losing its edges, and the artistic spirit of innovation and exploration is withering.

However, tonight, the August Thirty-First Band emerged as an alternative dark horse. A Best Alternative Album trophy demonstrates their existence, and Miles' passionate and inspiring acceptance speech once again made the music creators present feel the weight of dreams.

As Miles said, continuing to believe in music and continuing to believe in dreams is their only way to realize the meaning of life, igniting hope with their souls.

The thunderous applause simply wouldn't stop.

Even after the band members left the stage, the rolling heatwave still lingered in the Staples Center for a long time, and the whistling and cheering were still rising.

Finally, after a peaceful end to the award acceptance segment, Higgins let out a long breath, his heart still pounding wildly in his chest.

Then, he looked up and saw Anson and the others. Anson and the others were also exchanging glances, feeling a lingering fear, and then they all burst into laughter.

Even now, they were still in a daze, still confused, and still unable to confirm 100% what had just happened.

After a hearty laugh, they exchanged glances, and Connor couldn't help but ask.

"Did we... really win an award?"

Anson laughed heartily, "I like your speech. Did you prepare it in advance?"

Miles shook his head restrainedly, "No."

Anson, "I know. But it is precisely this kind of heartfelt speech that has power, much better than those speeches that read out a list of thank you names."

Miles scratched his head, "Anson..."

Lily bumped Miles' shoulder, "We know, we all know. You especially thank Anson, and Connor and I didn't even get a word."

Obviously, this was a joke.

Miles' expression was particularly awkward, and he mumbled for a long time without squeezing out a word.

Looking at Miles' expression, Anson and Lily burst out laughing.

Connor immediately put his arm around Miles' shoulder, "They're teasing you, you idiot."

Laughter erupted again.

Anson was especially happy, not because Miles had just thanked him, but because they were still friends after returning from their separate journeys in Europe.

In the short three years of entering Hollywood, Anson has experienced the hustle and bustle of the Vanity Fair.

There are people like Hayden Christensen, and even now no one knows what happened; there are people like Brad Renfro and Jake Gyllenhaal, who constantly pull and wander between the gains and losses of fame and fortune.

But equally, there are also people like Miles, Lily, and Connor, who experience lows and hardships, who face the temptation of fame and fortune, but still stick to their original intentions between detours, although they yearn for success, they never lose their love for music and dreams.

People often say that in the face of the cruelty of reality and interests, everyone else succumbs, everyone is like this, society and life are so dark, and then they sell their souls with peace of mind, defending their humbleness and ugliness.

However, precisely because life is like this, how to stick to ourselves and make choices in the face of cruel reality is the key to our success.

Anson was very fortunate that on that afternoon in Manhattan, he took steps towards this group of friends in front of him.

Perhaps, they embarked on different paths, but that doesn't mean they are no longer friends.

Precisely because of this, they should make tonight a perfect ending.

"Hey, we don't have time to waste. You don't want the performance to be screwed up later, do you?"

Anson showed a big smile to remind them, and the three of them suddenly went berserk.

"Ah, practice, practice!"

"How could we forget this? Connor, you have to practice harder."

"I know, I know, it's a matter of life and death. Let's go over there quickly."

"Dan, how much time do we have left?"

"Ah, don't ask, we need to focus on practicing and seize the time."

Despite the panic, despite the tension, no one complained and no one gave up. Anson put forward an outrageous inspiration, and they resolutely united, worked together, and plunged into the music side by side.

Higgins looked at the backs of the band members running back to the practice room in a daze, and his brain couldn't keep up for a while.

The time to celebrate the Grammy trophy was so short that they didn't even have time to light a cigarette, and then they couldn't wait to return to the music.

That enthusiasm was so brilliant and so charming.

Higgins himself didn't realize that he inadvertently revealed a little yearning and envy. It turned out that there could still be purity in the Vanity Fair. It turned out that not everyone in the Vanity Fair was willing to go with the flow. It turned out that we could still believe in dreams in the cruel reality. His emotions were uncontrollably boiling.

Now, Higgins finally understood a little bit what Anson and the others were doing.

After the August Thirty-First Band appeared on stage briefly and disappeared, the guests in the Staples Center looked around but couldn't see Anson and the others. They vaguely noticed something unusual and exchanged glances—

Things may not be that simple.

Outside the stadium, Gloria also noticed it.

"Are Anson and the others brewing something?"

Archie didn't know why and asked with his eyes.

Gloria explained, "Anson's mind is always full of whimsical ideas, bringing surprises again and again, and it seems to be the same now. Anson and the others have disappeared again, and the live camera has not given them a close-up of their seats, so..."

Archie still didn't understand what he should expect, but the light in his eyes began to surge involuntarily, and a kind of indescribable joy was breaking ground.