From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Las Vegas, a city that never sleeps, open all year round—

Time seems to lose its meaning in this city; day and night are reversed, seasons change, and the heat of summer and the cold of winter, bright sunshine and deep darkness are completely mixed.

Entering any hotel or casino is like entering a black hole, bizarre and extravagant. When you come out again, the outside world is completely different, and you completely forget the passage of time. A day, a week, or a month seems to make no difference, making people feel dazed and unable to distinguish.

The Wood family is no exception.

In the blink of an eye, they have been here for several days, but whether it is five days, six days, or seven days, they can't say for sure.

Nora looked at Anson with a worried face.

Anson seemed to notice their gaze, turned his head to look over, and took the initiative to wave hello, showing a bright smile, looking particularly relaxed.

Nora quickly showed a smile and waved back, but after Anson withdrew his gaze, the worry in her eyes was revealed, "Is this really okay?"

In her sight, Anson was holding a handful of pills, white and black, of all kinds, and he poured them into his throat, swallowing them all down with whiskey.

Charles leaned slightly towards Nora and comforted her in a low voice, "Those are all vitamins and fish oil. I specifically asked the crew, and these were all configured by the medical team according to Anson's recent physical condition; that amber liquid is barley tea, which is good for the body and throat, not alcohol."

In movies, characters rely on alcohol and so on, but during filming, most of them are props—

Of course, some actors are doing the real thing, openly drinking under the guise of work, but actors with a little professionalism would not do this.

Nora breathed out lightly, relaxing a little, but her heart still couldn't completely fall back into her chest, "But before coming to the crew, that alcohol was real, right?"

Nora looked at Lucas.

Lucas was silent, not responding directly, "Anson needs to get into character."

Nora, "And you just allow him to do this? When the character breaks down, Anson must also break down?"

Lucas: … …

Charles, "Nora, this is called being an actor."

Nora felt a breath stuck in her chest. Although she understood all the reasons, she couldn't help but worry.

In the past few days in Las Vegas, Anson has been completely normal, showing no strangeness at all. That Jack Priest has not appeared again. All the signs are proving that Lucas's worries have not happened, and Anson is still the Wood family's youngest son, wholeheartedly devoted to his work.

On the one hand, they were slightly relieved that the situation didn't seem as bad as they had imagined. Although they couldn't completely relax, they believed that Lucas wouldn't joke about Anson's matter; but at least from the performance in the past few days, they didn't need to worry too much.

On the other hand, they couldn't help but have other worries. Anson was completely immersed in the role, maintaining the same frequency as Johnny Cash's life state.

In the movie, Johnny's alcoholism becomes more and more serious, trapped in the cage of faith, family, and the vanity fair, rising and falling, completely losing direction.

In reality, Anson also entered the state synchronously. Although Anson did not drink a lot of alcohol, his sleep quality has been poor recently, the boundary between reality and illusion has gradually blurred, and the boundary between nightmares and reality is also disappearing. The whole person is in a tired and恍惚state, floating in mid-air.

Visibly, Anson's condition is getting worse and worse—

Not only the skin condition, but also the eyes and complexion, the whole person has dimmed, as if covered with a filter, and even the atmosphere of the crew has become gloomy.

Nora and the others saw all of this, and it was impossible not to worry.

However, Anson liked it, completely immersed in it, showing incredible enthusiasm, which made Nora and the others fall into a tug-of-war, unsure whether they should object or support, and every day was like riding a roller coaster.

Now it seems that they have been keeping their distance, giving Anson free space, and letting Anson go out and venture out. This is undoubtedly wise; otherwise, they will always treat Anson as a child and protect him under their wings, and Anson will never grow up and be unable to be independent.

But—

Nora raised her head to look at Lucas, not concealing the worry in her eyes.

Lucas's usually expressionless face now had a slight frown. The words that were already on his lips were swallowed back down after all.

Eyes, bustlingly gathered on Anson.

However, Anson, as the person involved, had no time to pay attention to these gazes.

He must focus, maintain 100% focus.

In order to get himself into the state, before coming to today's filming location, Anson drank a glass of whiskey, just one glass, to avoid really getting drunk and forgetting his lines. The performance needs to be out of control but not completely out of control; but he drank it a bit too fast, and now the alcohol is hitting his head, and his brain is almost about to explode—

Focus becomes a problem.

There seems to be a gyroscope in his head, buzzing and spinning, constantly spinning at high speed, and even the whole world is shaking with it, and he can hardly stand still.

Anson kept reminding himself not to lose his composure. Nora and the others are watching, and he needs to reassure them with practical actions, not expose his embarrassment.

This coincides with Johnny Cash. He needs to stay rational and continue performing, not let the performance open to the sky, and not embarrass himself in front of June Carter.

He needs the world to be quiet, he needs the noise in his head to disappear.

The more this is the case, the more he needs to use the power of alcohol; the more he drinks, the more he loses control over reality and himself, a vicious cycle.

Buzzing, buzzing, the world is noisy.

Subconsciously, Anson nodded lightly, his soul floating outside his body like a hydrogen balloon, watching his body show a polite smile.

"Okay, I'll be right there."

Taking a deep breath, the skin stood up like a marionette, hesitated for a moment, and poured another small glass of whiskey, drinking it down.

His stomach burned hotly, uncontrollably shivering, but his eyes seemed to clear up a bit, and he took a step towards the stage.

The soul floating in mid-air was pulled hard, half a beat late and quickly followed.

Staggering, stumbling, his steps advanced shallowly in the clouds.

Before him was a large theater, a luxurious and spacious stage, even grander, more magnificent, and more dazzling, with audience seats that could accommodate eight hundred people divided into two levels, and dazzling lights poured down like a waterfall.

Just before going on stage, an emergency brake, Anson managed to control himself, showing a confident smile to his family members who were standing on the side stage and gathered with the staff, and made a dashing salute, the arc of his mouth fully open, as dazzling as the sun.

Before Nora and the others could react, Mangold's voice came from the front of the stage, and in an instant, all the extras and temporary actors held their breath.

"Action!"