From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Noisy, crowded, busy.

A New York morning sees everything operating at ten times the speed, and if anyone says Los Angeles has a fast pace of life, they should really come to New York to experience the feeling of life in fast forward; there's simply too much to take in.

Of course, the Upper West Side is relatively better, because there are no towering office buildings here, the traffic is significantly reduced by half, and you can even see leisurely joggers, slowing down the pace a bit.

In a daze, there's a slight feeling of Los Angeles, but after taking a deep breath of air, you can immediately confirm that this is New York —

The oxygen content in the air is obviously insufficient, with a large amount of exhaust gas and carbon dioxide filling the alveoli, sending a warning to the body in the form of insufficient blood supply to the brain.

Screech.

With a brake, Anson controlled the skateboard, stopping at the intersection of the traffic lights, slightly pulling away, and landing diagonally behind the surging crowd.

A small intersection is crowded with hundreds of people, like sardines in a can. A man in an Armani suit, holding a phone and talking animatedly, weaves through a group of walking corpses, trying to get to the front of the crowd, without causing any commotion. It wasn't until a blonde woman in ten-centimeter red stilettos turned around and glared fiercely that the man hung up the phone and immediately started chatting her up.

The crowd, rippling outwards, almost made the hungover man leaning against the mailbox lose his balance. He staggered, trying to maintain his balance, but still failed, collapsing onto the ground in a 'wild goose falling on the sand' posture, clearing a concentric circle around him, causing a short-haired girl carrying a tray with six cups of coffee to brake urgently, almost spilling the coffee and everything else. The backpack on her right shoulder, filled with stuff, was even bigger than her.

Seeing this, Anson stepped forward in time to help the short-haired girl.

The short-haired girl looked up, ready to say thank you, but her voice was immediately swallowed by the sound of brakes and engines—

The red light turned green.

The tide of people at the intersection quickly swept across the crosswalk, carrying figures one by one. The short-haired girl was no exception. She turned her head and shouted a few words at Anson, but her voice was completely swallowed by the surrounding noise, and in a blink of an eye, her figure disappeared into the crowd. However, you could see the Armani-clad man and the stiletto-heeled woman exchanging business cards on the sidewalk.

Whoosh.

The green light turned red again.

A small group of people who hadn't had time to start were still gathered in front of the intersection, including Anson, but before he could catch his breath, the crowds arriving one after another again overflowed the intersection.

In an instant, Anson's memories of being a wage slave in his previous life became incredibly vivid.

Finally, on the second green light, Anson successfully crossed the crosswalk, continuing to ride his skateboard, weaving through the dense crowd, leaving the noise and crowding behind, and finally stopped at a coffee shop.

Dense. Surging.

After a quick glance, the surrounding seats were not completely full, with an occupancy rate of less than 70%; but the figures standing in front of the counter, queuing for takeout, were densely packed, and the winding queue filled the spacious space created by connecting the two side walls facing the street, with a rolling heat wave coming towards him.

Anson hung the skateboard behind his backpack, freeing his hands, and then stood at the end of the line, obediently queuing, and only then did he start to look around seriously.

This is a coffee shop with a very rough and tough style. The exposed pipes and brick walls are completely unadorned, presenting traces of the industrial era, but in the deep red, dark brown, and light gray, the layering of the entire space is outlined, creating a rare space in crowded Manhattan.

Then, Anson saw Sam Raimi—

As expected!

Don't think Edgar made a series of mistakes yesterday, but in real professional business, he still showed his ability, finding out the director's whereabouts in less than twelve hours, and accurately locating him.

The audition for 'Spider-Man' is about to happen this morning, and Edgar hopes that Anson can leave an impression on the director in advance; but not through a formal meeting arranged through connections, which would seem too deliberate and eager. He believes that Sam should already be used to that kind of routine.

A chance encounter, the key is in being casual.

People come and go in the coffee shop, but no one notices Sam's existence. The director is like an abandoned puppy curled up in the corner.

So, how should he break the ice?

This director has been in Hollywood for twenty years. Even if he hasn't experienced it himself, he should be familiar with those methods through hearsay. It's not easy to leave a deep impression on the director without making a sound.

Maybe—

If it is impossible to achieve the goal silently and naturally, then why not go the other way and create some noise, the more lively the better, the more flamboyant the better?

Truly become the focus of the audience?

Just as his thoughts were surging, Anson noticed some movement in the corner.

A figure took the initiative to walk towards Sam, slightly bending over and turning sideways from a distance, shrugging his shoulders, showing a curious and researching look, and then straightened his body, and you could see the surprise from his back.

"Sam?"

"Are you Sam Raimi?"

While saying this, he looked around, seemingly calling for the attention of other people around, but the hurried New Yorkers didn't care at all. He directed and acted himself, taking back his gaze and looking again, not daring to believe his unexpected encounter.

"Sam, I really, really like 'The Evil Dead'!"

This performance is a little bit exaggerated.

Of course, it may also be real, a veteran horror movie fan discovering Sam Raimi. After all, this is New York, and nothing is surprising.

But!

Anson recognized that person, Scott Speedman.

According to the latest information provided by Edgar, this gentleman is also one of the candidates for 'Spider-Man'.

It seems that he is not the only actor trying to leave a deep impression on Sam outside the audition office, and that gentleman has already gotten there first!

Second chapter.