From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

"No, Karen, trust me, it's different. This time it's really different."

"Really! The moment I saw him appear on the red carpet, I really felt an electric current run down my knees, I really felt my heart skip a beat."

Blair Miller was a little frustrated. She was trying to explain to her friends the magical moment that happened on the Emmy Awards red carpet.

In just forty-eight hours, rumors of that night had spread like wildfire, reaching a peak when "Entertainment Weekly" awarded Anson the Best On-Screen Fashion Look on the red carpet. All sorts of discussions could no longer be contained, erupting completely, arousing curiosity and controversy at the same time.

Obviously, Blair was an Anson supporter.

But her friends were not.

In Blair's opinion, watching television and hearing rumors were two completely different things. "If you saw Anson, you wouldn't say that."

Karen Fox didn't believe it, nodding perfunctorily. "Yes, yes, yes, that's right, everything you said is right."

While saying that, her attention had already drifted. In Karen's opinion, that topic wasn't worth discussing. Anyway, it was all coming from Blair's mouth. Still listening to Blair's chattering complaints, Karen's gaze turned forward, inadvertently noticing a figure—

A small circle, only a dozen or so people, was nothing in the bustling streets of New York. You could see right inside.

It looked like a street performance.

Common as dirt.

Karen didn't care, but her gaze was involuntarily drawn to the figure in the crowd, like a tender green sprout breaking through the winter in the third month of early spring. Thin golden sunlight lightly sprinkled down, a verdant and sparse touch of spring slowly spreading, awakening every cell in her body.

Karen was stunned. "Blair, let's go take a look."

Normally, she would pass by ten times out of ten. Karen would never stop; today, she inexplicably started walking quickly closer.

Thump.

Thump.

Her heart was racing, and Karen had to use all her strength to control the urge to scream. This was a real hottie, okay?

"Huh."

Blair's gasp came from her ear. Karen nodded repeatedly, ready to tell Blair that this kind of hottie was worth praising:

No makeup, no dressing up, no lights, and no media hype, just standing there, real and simple, yet firmly grabbing attention, with an outstanding temperament.

But before she could open her mouth, Blair's voice continued, "Anson!"

Karen, "What?"

Blair, "That's Anson, the Anson I told you about. Oh, God, why is Anson here?"

Karen was stunned, staring blankly at the man in front of her, her brain completely stopped working, and she even forgot to breathe.

Anson didn't notice the movements of the surrounding crowd. They were rehearsing—

Anson had an idea, a bold attempt.

However, the band needed to cooperate, not only needing to be familiar with the score, but also needing to be familiar with the rhythm, and the rhythm with each other. Practice was the only way out.

Performance was like this. Musical stage performances and acting in front of the camera were the same.

When they started to care about the audience's expressions and feedback, the blows of reality would often cause interference, and then they would be drawn into the dilemma of worrying about gains and losses.

When they were wholeheartedly immersed in performing and practicing, focusing on themselves, focusing on the melody/role, and eliminating interference, they could present perfection.

Little by little, they began to discuss, began to work together, began to practice, completely forgetting themselves, temporarily forgetting the crowd, turning the street into a practice room. That focus and dedication instead exuded a different charm, even if they were not very skilled, people actually stopped one after another.

The number was not large, perhaps curious about the behind-the-scenes footage of the band's rehearsal, perhaps because the melody they inadvertently captured was particularly pleasant, perhaps because the band's completely self-absorbed practice inadvertently exuded a different color, but eventually, the onlookers slowly increased.

Slightly different from the punk rock band in "The Princess Diaries", today Anson was thinking about cleverly using the existence of the cello to create different sparks—

The band was still a band, but not limited to rock, a little pop, a little country, a little rock, plus a little retro.

Twenty years later, the boundaries between music genres became increasingly blurred, and the blending of different styles and genres created a brand new auditory impact, bringing new possibilities after musical and artistic creation entered a bottleneck.

Some music stood out because of the poetry of the lyrics, some music completely grabbed all the attention because of the rhythm, and some music moved the heart because of the beautiful melody.

In Anson's opinion, they needed to cleverly use the cello, but they had to break the public's stereotype of the cello, so they should use the cello as the protagonist, but they should try to use the rhythm and the beat to grab the ears, so a brand new musical inspiration was born in his mind.

At this moment, temporarily put down the pressure of having to succeed, temporarily put down the dream of changing history, temporarily put down the countless anxieties of real life, just focus on the music, an adventure, an attempt, and also a play, reliving the initial joy that music brought him, returning to the original intention.

A rough look showed at least thirty people.

Thirty people was not many, but in the two years of their street performances, except for the very beginning when some people stopped to watch out of curiosity about the cello, they had never seen such a scene again.

Connor's heart almost jumped out.

"God!"

Connor exclaimed, and then Lily and Miles also noticed, their expressions immediately stiffening, and they no longer had the focus and relaxation they had just had.

Pressure came crashing down.

Anson also noticed and turned his head to look around.

He was also a little nervous.

Although he had performed in "The Princess Diaries", and although the original owner had also performed in his memories, street performances were still a completely unfamiliar attempt for him.

Anson took a deep breath, remembering that he was going to seize every moment of life and enjoy this hard-won second life.

"Hey, guys."

Anson said.

"What we should be thinking about is not success or failure, because you have already failed, you are already prepared to give up, this is the last carnival."

"We should firmly grasp the present moment and enjoy the music to the fullest. In the beginning, this was the reason that made you dream and embark on this journey."

"So, are you ready?"

Lonely.

Lily swallowed, a little uncertain, "But, we've only practiced for a short time, what if we make a mistake?"

Fifth update.