From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Tap, tap, tap. Tap, tap, tap.

Early in the morning, heavy knocking on the door echoed like a storm in the hotel corridor, the whole world seeming to vibrate slightly.

However, the room was silent, with no response or movement.

Standing at the door, Noah was sweating profusely, his face flushed, and he was on the verge of tears; the noise here had woken Lucas in the next room.

Lucas pushed the door open, his face stern and unreadable.

"What's going on?"

At this time, it was not yet six in the morning, and the entire "Singing in the Same Key" crew was still asleep, with nearly three hours before the start of filming today.

In some film productions, actors require special makeup, such as Doctor Octopus in "Spider-Man", so actors often need to prepare in advance, with filming at nine in the morning possibly requiring them to get up at three in the morning for makeup and preparation.

But in the "Singing in the Same Key" crew, this was not necessary, and everything was operating normally.

So, the entire crew was currently asleep, and the corridor was quiet.

While the outside world was caught in a frenzy over "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" and the summer movie season, the "Singing in the Same Key" crew was still filming intensively, operating in an orderly manner.

Focused, engaged, immersed.

The entire crew, from top to bottom, was engrossed in their work because Lucas, the big boss of Forest Pictures and the film's producer, was personally supervising the set—

No one wanted to be caught slacking off.

Only during breaks, snippets of conversation between staff members inadvertently captured fragments, sensing the frenzy of "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", and one or two couldn't help but become more and more expectant of "Singing in the Same Key".

But today, early in the morning, Noah's appearance disrupted the crew's order.

Seeing Lucas, Noah immediately stood up straight, revealing a serious expression.

A quick glance revealed that Lucas must have been awakened from his sleep as well, wearing black pajama pants and casually draping a black bathrobe around himself, pulling it slightly tighter, completely lacking his usual rigor and solemnity. His sleepy eyes also added a hint of laziness and fatigue, but his whole being still naturally exuded a sense of rigor and sharpness, making people afraid to look him in the eye.

Noah unconsciously stood at attention.

"Mr. Wood, Mr. Ansen asked me to wake him up at six o'clock this morning."

However… after knocking for a long time, there was no movement, no sound at all.

Considering Ansen's state on the "Singing in the Same Key" set recently… Noah and Lucas exchanged a look, both becoming vigilant.

A hint of a different color flashed in the depths of Lucas's pupils. Although he didn't know what was going on with Ansen, since Ansen had said so…

"Move aside."

Lucas took out a hotel room key from his bathrobe pocket and opened the hotel room door in front of him without any hesitation, pushing it open—

Pitch black.

The darkness was so complete that you couldn't see your hand in front of your face, the blackout curtains completely blocking the light, only allowing you to vaguely capture the outline of the furniture in the room using the corridor light.

But hotel room layouts were basically similar, and Lucas relied on his memory to pass through the living room and walk towards the bedroom, but inadvertently bumped into the sofa.

Clang, clang.

The sound of colliding bottles and the alcoholic smell in the air made Lucas feel uneasy, his heart suddenly leaping high.

"Ansen?"

Lucas couldn't help but call out, but there was still no response in the room.

Click.

With a crisp sound of a switch, the darkness receded in the milky yellow light. Lucas turned to look at Noah, only then realizing that he had been too nervous and had forgotten about this. Now he could finally see the scene in the room clearly—

Bottles scattered haphazardly, clothes and shoes in a mess, a overturned table lamp on the ground, and a poor table lying pitifully on its side, as if a storm had passed through.

The quilt and sheets in the bedroom had all slipped to the ground, so that the bed was empty, with nothing on it. Following the trail of the sheets, he finally saw Ansen curled up into a shrimp, wrapped in the quilt.

"Oh, God."

Noah gasped.

Lucas rushed forward, picking up Ansen in a panic, subconsciously reaching for Ansen's wrist to check his pulse.

His heart was still beating.

Lucas held his breath. He had never been so grateful to feel the strength of the pulse transmitted to his fingertips. The numbness in his scalp finally eased slightly, and only then did he realize the tension in all the muscles of his body.

Noah looked worried. "Should I call the crew's accompanying doctor?"

Lucas waved his hand. "No need." But he had no time to pay attention to Noah at this moment. "Ansen, wake up, Ansen?"

Finally, Ansen seemed to hear the call and let out a painful groan—

Ah.

As soon as the sound came out, Ansen cut it off himself, swallowing all the subsequent groans, but correspondingly, his eyebrows and facial features all crowded together.

For a short second, it seemed like he was cutting off his breath.

Then, finally unable to control himself, the sound squeezed out of his throat.

"God…"

That voice, comparable to a bronze gong, was particularly harsh, and he couldn't even stand to hear it himself.

His whole body finally sat up, but every muscle was groaning and protesting, as if he had been put in a burlap sack and beaten up—

He couldn't catch his breath.

Lucas, "Water."

Ansen silently raised his right hand, a bottle of mineral water was placed in his palm, and he gulped down the entire bottle in one breath.

Then, his shoulders and head drooped down, as if weighing a thousand pounds.

Lucas looked up at Noah, "Go to the hotel kitchen and make a cup of honey lemon water, make sure it's warm; and have the kitchen prepare a breakfast, not too greasy, if there's nothing else, plain porridge will do."

Noah listened intently with a serious face, and only turned around and left quickly after confirming that he had not missed anything. His haste could be detected from his footsteps.

Ansen still kept his eyes closed, "Lucas, you're going to scare the kid."

Lucas didn't respond, but instead rummaged around beside him, looking for something.

Ansen sat obediently in place, waiting, suddenly feeling something on his cheek. He raised his hand and touched it randomly, only then realizing that it was actually sunglasses.

Putting on the sunglasses, blocking the light, Ansen was finally able to open his eyes.

Lucas's voice came from the side, "How much did you drink last night?"

Ansen shrugged lightly, "I don't know either. But Lucas, you know, my alcohol tolerance is better than I thought, I can't even get drunk."

Lucas glanced at Ansen, "You used to be able to drink more when you were neglecting your duties and messing around all day. Your current alcohol tolerance is still a state of decline after three years of sobriety."

Ansen: … …

"Okay, you know everything. But you didn't have to expose me, did you? Ha. Ha."

Ansen laughed dryly twice.

Lucas looked at Ansen, countless words swirling on the tip of his tongue, but in the end, they turned into a long sigh.

"What's going on?"

"You asked Noah to wake you up early today, it seems like you knew you might be hungover today, so those bottles last night weren't an accident."

From scattered clues, Lucas pieced together a corner of the story.