From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

"Run, Jack, run! Don't look back!"

He shouted, heartbroken, tearful, and furious.

All the anger, all the sadness, all the pain, transformed into a storm of fists, hammering down on Jack, that beast of a father, striving with all his might to win Jack a chance at life, to let him escape.

But in the moment he inadvertently turned his head, he saw that unfamiliar yet familiar face—

He, Anson-Wood, nine years old, thin and small, his face covered in blood, running barefoot on the deserted street, his hands and clothes stained with blood, as if he had just escaped from hell, running wildly without regard for anything.

"Fire," he yelled, his hoarse voice almost expending all his strength.

However, there was no response; those houses, those spaces, were tightly closed, silent, leaving him alone outside.

Run.

Involuntarily, without time to discern or prove what was happening, he shouted loudly at the nine-year-old Anson-Wood.

"Run, Anson, run! Don't look back!"

Behind him, rolling shadows surged, chasing relentlessly, cruelly and ferociously watching the struggle of that frail figure.

As if looking down at ants from above.

They followed unhurriedly, leisurely, not in a rush to devour, because that shadow was certain he could not escape their grasp.

Ahead, a heartbreaking cry rang out.

"Anson, run, run!"

Anson jolted, looking towards the sound, and instantly his mind roared, his teeth gnashing—

Mom!

He tried to shout, but no sound came out, as if he had returned to the memories of his past life.

His mother held a stone in her hand, waving it randomly, futilely, bumping her head against those ferocious and indifferent people, using her head to ram their chests, fighting with them with the intention of perishing together, but without any real offensive power.

Those fierce-looking people, seeing Anson, gathered towards him like locusts; his mother tried to stop them, but it was merely a mantis trying to stop a chariot—

Whoosh.

The crowd broke through.

His mother shouted, heartbroken, yelling, "Run!"

But he couldn't.

His footsteps still rushed towards his mother's direction, and in an instant, he was swallowed by the crowd, a storm of fists and kicks raining down on his body.

He protected his mother with his body, using his back to intercept the onslaught.

In his mouth, a bloody smell spread, and his internal organs seemed to be falling apart.

Through the gap between legs, he could see a narrow space behind him, filled with indifferent faces, watching and gossiping, looking down from above.

A small number of people couldn't bear to look and shifted their gaze, but they just hurried away, and no one was willing to speak out, even less willing to help.

In his ears, his mother's pleading voice came, but gradually it was drowned out by the resonance of those punches and kicks, his consciousness began to blur, and in a trance, it seemed that he could no longer feel the pain, his soul leaving his body, looking down on everything.

"Let me go, I don't want to be your hero, I don't want to be some great person, I just want to live earnestly like an ordinary person."

This song, "Hero," is included in the August Thirty-First Band's debut album, "Midsummer Midnight." It was the song the band performed for the first time on "The Tonight Show," and it was also the song Anson specifically created for the band's debut, inspired by Jack.

However, now Anson finally understood that those notes, those lyrics, those emotions, came not only from Jack but also from the wound that had been hidden deep in his soul.

Jack is him.

Anson-Wood is him.

Anson is also him.

Their pain, their struggle, their despair, their dreams, are all the same, because ultimately they are the same person.

He tried to call for help—

No, he was calling for help, always had been, doing his best to make a sound, but no one paid attention; he just wanted to live quietly, like an ordinary person, with some small blessings, some small dreams, but things didn't seem so simple, those nightmares were always haunting him.

Raising his eyes again, looking at Jack who was close at hand, Anson was completely stunned.

Anson tried to speak, but found the words stuck in his throat, unable to make a sound.

Jack looked at Anson sadly and desperately, although the corner of his mouth still had a smile, his eyes were full of tears, "Anson, don't leave me alone."

"Please, I don't want to be alone."

Anson's throat was choked like this, unable to breathe, even more unable to speak.

In his vision, Anson-Wood appeared, that nine-year-old frail child, covered in wounds, the pain in his eyes struggling, almost unable to stand, as if a gust of wind could blow him away, he stood in the corner of the meeting room, rushing over in big steps, "Run, Anson, run! Don't look back!"

Again and again, using all his strength, making a cry for help.

Ah!

The sound erupted from the depths of his soul, tears streaming down his face, blood flowing like a river.

Ah, ah, ah!

The nine-year-old body simply couldn't withstand the erosion of darkness, the whole person was broken and sad, teetering in the storm, ready to fall apart at any moment.

But he just stared at Anson, constantly shouting the same sentence.

"Don't look back!"

This made Anson stunned, subconsciously turning around and starting to run.

Run, Anson, run!

Although he didn't know why he had to run or where he should run to, he still took steps and ran wildly in the endless darkness, grabbing a direction.

Jack shouted in fear, "No!"

Anson-Wood rushed over, Jack also ran wildly, rushing towards him, despair and pain, sadness and confusion transforming into a boundless ocean, instantly surrounding Anson, his just-taken steps stopping again, he was completely trapped in place, unable to move, struggling in the raging waves, the fear of drowning gradually submerging his head.

"Let me go, I don't want to be your hero, I don't want to be some great person, I just want to live earnestly like an ordinary person."

Anson-Wood was approaching.

Jack was also approaching.

Watching them about to collide, Anson couldn't help but hold his breath.

Then, the collision happened—

Bang!

Anson-Wood crashed into Jack, Jack crashed into Anson-Wood, but the imagined disaster did not happen, the two of them stumbling and crashing into Anson.

Just like that, disappearing, disappearing into Anson's body.

The world quieted down, no other figures could be seen in the meeting room, only him left.

The three merged into one, those painful and desperate memories stirring up monstrous waves in his mind like a tide, the majestic and surging emotional power completely exploding, instantly dragging Anson into the ocean, surrounded by a blue color.

Blue, cutting off his breath, the whole person breaking apart in the pull of the tide, the pain instantly pushing to the extreme and exceeding the limit of endurance.

Snap.

Nerves broke, unable to bear it any longer, consciousness escaping into the boundless blue, slowly sinking, gradually, gradually being completely swallowed by the blue.