From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Clap, clap, clap… …

Clap, clap, clap!

Applause, thunderous.

Involuntarily, Steven also applauded vigorously. For a moment, he felt as if he had completely become a member of this fashion show. The burning sensation in his stomach seemed to finally subside, truly integrating himself into it, even though deep down he still knew it was an illusion.

Quietly, Steven leaned towards Tom and bowed slightly, "Let's do it."

Tom was puzzled. In the midst of the roaring applause, he thought he hadn't heard correctly, so he looked at Steven, his eyes questioning.

Steven, "I'm ready, are you?"

After speaking, Steven silently looked towards the runway. Tom followed his gaze and immediately saw Anson. Although there were other models around, it was undeniable that Anson easily caught the eye.

Tom understood.

A smile crept onto his lips, a mix of uncontrollable anticipation and excitement mingled with tension burning in his stomach.

Tom knew what this meant: a brand new challenge, a brand new adventure. Collaborating with Leonardo meant he could predict most situations and outcomes, but with Anson? Everything before him was unknown, even the tone and style of the entire project would undergo a complete transformation.

Tom admitted that he had given it a slight push, out of curiosity—

He was curious about Anson's version of Little Frank Abagnale, and also curious about Anson's energy as an actor.

Like Steven, Tom had quietly fallen into a comfort zone in his role as a casting director, having not experienced unfamiliarity, freshness, or tension for a long time. Perhaps, Anson, as a scene partner, could bring some… variables?

Now, things were finally developing as Tom had hoped. To some extent, he was also worried, what if his judgment was wrong? Tension and unease were inevitable; but more than that, he was looking forward to it. He couldn't wait to join the production team.

For an actor, this was a good thing.

And then.

Tom also started to applaud, and the way he looked at Anson changed subtly, even his smile and applause were noticeably more cheerful.

On the scene, the applause continued to climb to a new peak.

Hedi Slimane was a little shy and also a little restrained. Even though the applause of the audience surrounded him like a tide, pushing him to the peak like a star, he felt uncomfortable, every cell in his body felt uneasy. He wanted to leave as soon as he appeared on stage.

The remaining rationality barely held the reins, he mechanically looked around and nodded, his eyes flickering across a crowd of faces, looking like Pinocchio who had just come to life and didn't yet know how to control his body—

He wanted to leave, but he reminded himself that this was the debut of Dior Homme. No matter what the future held, at least he should give some face this time, hoping that these bigwigs and colleagues would recognize his first appearance.

However.

"Escape!"

The roar in his mind still wouldn't stop. In the end, he turned around, ready to leave, secretly telling himself that basic etiquette had been fulfilled and there was no need to stay any longer, but in the moment he turned his head, he saw Anson diagonally behind him.

Ah, how could he forget.

Anson, Anson Wood. Without Anson, there would be no series, without Anson, there would be no show today. Moreover, Anson had agreed to the invitation and came to Paris to help. He knew Anson didn't have to agree, and he also knew that actors didn't want to be seen as models, but Anson had still nodded.

Slightly awkwardly, Hedi gave Anson a look.

Anson didn't understand Hedi's meaning at first, he just returned a smile, applauded vigorously, and cheered for Hedi like the rest of the audience.

Hedi scratched his head awkwardly, turned to look forward, but then turned again to look at Anson, raised his hand and waved, signaling Anson to come forward.

Anson wasn't sure: Him? Why?

Today's show, the real protagonist was Hedi, there was no doubt about it. They, the models, were just clothes racks responsible for displaying the clothes. At this moment, all the applause should belong to Hedi, so why was Hedi summoning him, what for?

Hedi gave Anson another confirming look.

Anson: ? ? ?

There was no such segment in the rehearsal.

Although, but, Anson still took a step forward, and at this moment, the rustling gazes and whispers throughout the show became obviously turbulent.

Anson came to Hedi's side, Hedi made an inviting gesture, and the two of them walked forward side by side, once again reaching the top of the runway.

Vast and surging—

Perhaps, some people knew Anson, but it could be guaranteed that it wasn't the majority. As an actor, Anson's career had only just begun; but after today, in the fashion field, Anson had opened up a whole new world, undoubtedly becoming the iconic and absolute protagonist of Dior Homme.

People cheered for Hedi, and were fascinated by Anson.

Things were that simple.

Boom.

The heatwave exploded like that.

Anson: ? ? ?

The question marks not only didn't get answered, but became more and more numerous. Anson obviously didn't understand what was happening, looking at the enthusiasm in front of him with confusion.

Who am I, where am I, what am I doing? Can someone explain what is happening here?

Clearly all the credit belonged to Hedi, but why were the audience in front of him acting as if they were crazy, applause and whistles intertwined.

Honestly, Anson was truly ignorant of the fashion world.

Turning his head to look at Hedi, he found that Hedi's restraint and anxiety had subsided slightly, the corners of his mouth were slightly raised, and he was also applauding for Anson.

Anson noticed, "Hedi, are you smiling right now?"

Anson suspected his eyes. Hedi noticed Anson's expression and quickly restrained his smile, but it didn't disappear. That smile fell into his eyes and gently surged, even increasing the amplitude of his applause, which made Anson feel helpless—

So what to do?

Escape was not an option, and shyness or humility was not Anson's style either, so Anson became calm.

Composed, calm.

Gracefully bowing, Anson calmly accepted everything in front of him, and responded with a gentlemanly demeanor, although the movements and etiquette were somewhat awkward, it was obvious that he hadn't systematically learned these things, but precisely because of this, the rebellion and uninhibitedness in his bones became even more flamboyant and brilliant.

—Perfect.

From clothing and styling to body shape and posture to temperament and demeanor, the Anson in front of him was perfect in every way, leaving a perfect footnote for this fashion trend.

On the scene, it was no longer possible to control it. The rolling heatwave unbelievably continued to climb to a new height, completely detonating Paris Fashion Week in 2001.

Outside the venue, there was a scene of astonishment.

Even the hurried footsteps couldn't help but stop, surprised and astonished, gathering towards the Dior show, even if they didn't witness the show in person, and didn't even know what was happening inside, but at this moment, everyone had a premonition that they were witnessing the birth of a superstar.

Wait, so, what exactly happened at Dior's show?

Boom, boom, boom.

The afternoon sky in Paris, the sunset glow burned, and the red sky and earth rendered the entire world.