From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

The truly complex part of the fame and fortune game lies in the human heart.

Because the human heart is impossible to calculate; every action can trigger different reactions and different thoughts, yet no one can control the human heart.

The present situation is just like that.

The Grammy Awards unexpectedly further opened up opportunities for Anson and brought a once-in-a-lifetime chance to break the stalemate, making the Academy envious.

But how to seize the opportunity and how to control the situation has become a difficult problem; with a little carelessness, Anson might completely anger the Academy and suffer a loss.

Everything requires striking a balance.

Lucas's mind was racing, instantly grasping the key point.

But he didn't expect Anson to appear so calm and composed; that steady expression made Lucas reveal a hint of confusion, which Anson noticed, and he laughed directly.

"When it comes to numbers, when it comes to games, you excel; but when it comes to human relationships, you fall short."

Lucas could taste the teasing in Anson's words, but he didn't mind at all, nodding, "So, it still depends on you."

Anson was satisfied, "We promised the director that we would go to the film crew after the awards ceremony, and now the entire film crew is waiting for me alone, how can I break my promise?"

"I'm serious about missing the Oscars for the sake of the movie."

Lucas was not in a hurry at all, quietly waiting for Anson to continue.

"We will still follow the plan, go downstairs and set off for the filming location."

"As for recording… no rush, no rush."

"Warner Records and Apple still need to play games for a while."

Lucas shook his head, "Not necessarily. This opportunity, time is very important. Whether it's Apple or Warner, they all know the importance of time, the entire negotiation process should be very fast."

Anson, "I know, that's what I'm planning too. Negotiations with Warner Records should be as concise as possible, even sacrificing some benefits if necessary."

Lucas understood, "Preparing for subsequent negotiations?"

Anson nodded, "Myles and the others' new band is preparing. They also need a new record contract. I'm worried that Warner Records will procrastinate."

As a former partner, Anson sincerely hopes that Myles and the others can continue to pursue their musical dreams and achieve great success—

Although it is very difficult.

Most bands that disband and start anew perform very poorly afterward, perhaps only Nirvana's drummer David Grohl is an exception.

After the death of the band's legendary lead singer Kurt Cobain, this drummer started the Foo Fighters, achieving accomplishments no less than those of Nirvana.

Difficulty, it is indeed difficult, but Anson still hopes that he can help a little.

Lucas, "What about your own record contract?"

Anson said casually, "Do I need to worry?"

Lucas thought seriously, then nodded in agreement.

Anson, "What's more, whether I'll have a second album is still unknown, haha, making movies is so much fun, I still have a lot I want to try."

Lucas was not surprised, "Your happiness is the most important thing. If everything is rushed, what about the recording?"

Anson laughed heartily, "Have you forgotten? Our destination?"

Lucas frowned slightly, "Memphis?"

Anson nodded, "Yes, Memphis, a city where music flows in the blood. I have a way to kill two birds with one stone, ensuring that our cooperation with Apple can proceed smoothly while keeping those guys at the Academy unaware."

"Well… at least beyond reproach."

Lucas looked at Anson's expectant smile, his mind relaxed slightly, and he didn't continue to reply, but scanned the hall.

"…Were we just entertaining Matt here?"

No need to wait, Lucas knew Anson's response with his toes.

"Pack your luggage, otherwise let Noah… forget it, I'll do it."

Without further ado, Lucas busied himself nimbly.

Out of the corner of his eye, watching Anson stand up to help, Lucas waved his hand, "You sit down. Sitting quietly is helping."

…

Memphis, this ancient city quietly nestled on the banks of the Tennessee River, the warm southern breeze of the North American continent gently blowing past, precipitating the mystery of the years, gently brushing over the shimmering surface of the Mississippi River.

Noisy, yet peaceful.

Having witnessed the pain of history and the greatness of legend, at dusk, the setting sun is like an orange flame, quietly falling on the river surface. Calming the mind, listening carefully, the bricks underfoot tell of the grandeur and vastness of time.

Barren districts and prosperous central axes coexist. The bustling city center, keeping pace with the times, is incomprehensibly surrounded by impoverished and dirty districts. The ancient southern atmosphere and the brilliance of modern civilization intertwine, and everything is breeding contradictions and sparks.

In the dim and dilapidated alleys, one can still hear the whispers of the cotton plantation era, telling of the hardships and pains that the city has experienced.

However, it is precisely this deep historical sedimentation that gives Memphis a unique romantic temperament. People are accustomed to thinking, accustomed to exploring, and using music to collide, to heal, and to tell stories.

The sky in this city is always shrouded in a kind of poetry that is difficult to accurately describe. The humid air seems to carry the memory of the river, flowing gently; the lights on both sides flicker, like stars, illuminating the echoes of the past, making people gradually lose themselves in gazing and staring, lost in their own memories.

Language cannot be aimed.

In Memphis, time seems to be a graceful illusion, slowly recording those stories, those scars, and then quietly nurturing the splendor and magnificence of music, re-depicting the scenes of the past and the future in the fluttering of notes, those desires, those broken pieces, those struggles are all revealed.

Close your eyes, and you can hear it.

The key is whether you have the courage to interpret and the power to carry.

This is the third time Anson has come to Memphis in three months. Each time, he has different feelings. The scenes presented in his eyes are constantly changing, but all converge into the same river, flowing gently.

In the airport hall, you can see a sign held high—

"Anson Wood, the most handsome in the universe."

Reese Witherspoon held the sign with a smile, spotted Anson and his party at a glance, and cheered, jumping and skipping like a cheerleader.

"Hey, hey! Over here!"

It was especially difficult to miss, so much so that other passengers leaving the airport also cast their gazes:

Anson? Which Anson?

Anson couldn't help but support his forehead, but still smiled and gave Reese a hug, "Most handsome in the universe? God, we've already walked out of the galaxy."

"Haha." Reese laughed heartily, and said softly in Anson's ear, "You said we need to create some buzz, how about it, is this buzz enough?"

Anson also laughed, "I believe Los Angeles should be receiving the news simultaneously."