From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Helen Hunt had experienced such moments herself. Regardless of whether she anticipated it before the award ceremony, the atmosphere in the moment the award was announced still stimulated adrenaline. She would tense up uncontrollably, even holding her breath without realizing it.

Therefore, she didn't pause or create suspense. As soon as she saw the card, she prepared to announce the answer.

However, the name on the card was somewhat unexpected. The words that reflexively came to her lips paused slightly, and Helen couldn't help but double-check.

Unintentionally, she paused for half a second.

In that half-second, the Shrine Auditorium seemed to enter a time warp, completely frozen and rigid, with heartbeats and breaths surging through the air.

Blood was rushing, burning—

“…Anson Wood, ‘Friends’.”

Helen announced the winner.

The entire venue was put on pause, everyone stunned.

Edgar abruptly covered his mouth, using all his strength to suppress the urge to scream, but he couldn't resist turning to Eve, his wide eyes revealing a surge of mixed emotions:

Anson won?

Anson! Won an award?

Eve was just as bewildered. She had been planning the public relations strategy for after the award ceremony, but in the blink of an eye, the entire plan was disrupted, leaving her brain unable to process it.

Wow.

Eve couldn't help but exclaim.

Looking at Edgar, thousands of words were condensed into one sentence. Eve exclaimed again, "Wow," and then stood up.

Excited as she was, Eve didn't forget her job. She signaled Edgar with her eyes to stand, applaud, and whistle, taking the lead in setting the atmosphere.

Edgar finally reacted, jumping up with disbelief written all over his face, clapping his hands with all his might.

Applause spread like ripples, and amidst the stunned and surprised gazes, the Shrine Auditorium finally gradually came back to its senses, realizing what had happened—

Anson, who was still two months away from his eighteenth birthday, won the Emmy Award for Outstanding Guest Actor in a Comedy Series with his first acting role, appearing like a comet and stepping onto the Hollywood stage.

Surprise, surprise?

Unexpected, isn't it?

Eyes crowded in the same direction.

Anson, where is he?

Anson: ???

If there was anyone more surprised than the audience, it was Anson himself. He really hadn't expected that he would hear Helen call his name when he came to the Emmy Awards ceremony today, mainly to broaden his horizons and increase exposure for the "Spider-Man" casting. That was all. But now?

Everything felt like a dream.

Then.

Clap, clap, clap.

Whirr, whirr, whirr.

The applause of the entire venue surged from all directions like a rolling tide, surrounding Anson, and that sense of unreality instantly filled his chest. The absurd and happy mixed emotions danced on the corners of his lips.

Gazes poured down like a summer storm, hitting his skin with a faint ache.

But those aches made his consciousness clear, and he finally felt a bit real.

Standing up, leaving his seat, and walking into the aisle, the live broadcast camera was a beat late in switching to Anson's shot. His slightly messy steps regained order, firmly locking onto Anson.

Anson, moving forward—

Like a dream.

His steps were uneven, stepping on clouds, always unable to touch the ground. That floating state continued all the way to the stage.

Anson didn't remember how he got on stage. Then, seeing Helen Hunt, he finally returned to earth. The Emmy Award trophy in his hand weighed heavily on his stomach, and all the churning subsided.

Helen gave Anson a hug.

She didn't say much, just hugged him, the time a little long. Compared to thousands of words, this action was more sincere and straightforward—

Congratulations.

She said.

Breaking the embrace, Anson looked into Helen's eyes, a smile blooming on his lips, "Thank you."

Finally.

Standing in front of the microphone, Anson looked at the dark mass in front of him. The dazzling lights were a little blinding, so he couldn't see very clearly, but the surge of applause and the heat of those gazes were particularly real.

Stomp.

Anson stomped his foot.

Stomp, stomp.

He stomped again.

Amidst a confused gaze, Anson approached the microphone, but found that the microphone was too low, barely reaching his chest. He had to bend over.

“Sorry, I need to find the ground, to confirm that all of this isn't a dream.”

A self-deprecating remark successfully drew a low laugh from the audience. Looking at Anson's performance at this time, the whole situation was reasonably explained, and the atmosphere eased.

But just as Anson was about to continue speaking—

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

The microphone slowly rose.

Anson paused, leaned back, tilted his head, and looked up and down at the microphone rising at a snail's pace, spreading his hands with a helpless expression. But it was this interaction, like a pantomime, that instantly traveled to the era of Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, and the comedic effect flowed naturally.

Haha.

Amidst a burst of laughter, the microphone finally reached Anson's chin. Although it was still not perfectly aligned, at least he didn't have to bend over.

“Sorry, I'm confused again now. Did someone just interact with me?”

Anson only used one sentence to make the laughter that hadn't subsided even louder, especially Anson's cold face, exactly like Buster Keaton, the contrast of the deadpan comedian made the scene even more joyful.

A small episode finally calmed Anson down.

“This is a surprise.”

“It's like I appeared in ‘Friends,’ giving Ross and Rachel a scare, ‘Hey, surprise!’ But this time, it's a surprise for the entire crew, David, surprise.”

Wonderful, wonderfully indescribable.

Completely breaking the fourth wall, skillfully connecting the inside and outside of the play, the last sentence was clearly a shout-out to producer David Crane—

This is an award for the entire 'Friends' crew, not just him alone.

Great!

The collaborators in the audience were all veterans, and they immediately understood the deep meaning in the words, and had to admire Anson's handling, immediately winning a round of applause.

Anson knew that the guest star award often tested not acting skills, but the ability of the screenwriter and the spark of the cast, and finally the personal charm of the actor, especially in comedy, so he did not get carried away.

“Working with the crew is a pleasant thing. I don't want to thank any one person here individually, because we all know that I will inevitably miss someone, and then become the target of everyone's criticism. But the point is that no one should be forgotten. This is a team, and everyone is an indispensable protagonist.”

“So, thank you for being willing to give me a warm welcome and let me stand here to enjoy the moment of dazzling spotlight. I wish you all a wonderful night.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

The entire venue erupted in thunderous applause—

Crazy, completely crazy.

David Crane, leading the "Friends" crew, took the lead in standing up and applauding, even Jennifer Aniston was no exception. Brad Pitt was a little helpless but still reluctantly stood up.

Because Anson had just once again responded on behalf of the "Friends" crew—

Everyone is the protagonist.

Second update.