From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

Her heart was pounding relentlessly.

Blair Miller felt like she might throw up any second. She turned her head and saw that Karen Fox was in a similar state. The smile on her face was completely frozen, her lips upturned, yet her eyes betrayed a palpable tension and trepidation.

Even now, standing inside the "Tonight Show" studio, they could hardly believe it—

All of this was actually happening.

Blair had never imagined that her initial interest in Anson, sparked by the Emmy Awards ceremony, would eventually lead to an invitation to record a segment on "The Tonight Show." She had crossed the entire North American continent from New York to Los Angeles for the chance to be in close proximity to Anson.

Karen, too, had never envisioned that a video she casually filmed on the streets of Manhattan and uploaded to a forum simply because she liked it, would evolve into the most wonderful and surreal memory of her short life. From the moment she boarded the plane, everything felt like a dream, devoid of reality.

As the videographer of the performance and a witness to the street performance that day, Blair and Karen received an invitation from "The Tonight Show." They hoped the two could share their first-hand experiences and stories from outside the band, providing viewers with a comprehensive behind-the-scenes look at the video.

And so, they found themselves here, sitting in the front row of the "Tonight Show" studio audience, with a camera even pointed directly at them.

"Breathe, Blair, breathe!"

Blair reminded herself silently. She couldn't quite discern whether she was nervous because of Anson, because of the show, or something else entirely. But her heart was hammering against her chest, threatening to burst free at any moment.

Why were they so excited and exhilarated, even though they weren't the main attraction?

He appeared.

Anson Wood.

The moment Blair saw Anson up close, the world seemed to stop—

There was no noise, no commotion, no tension, no excitement. Her gaze was fixed on his figure, following his every move. Even the surrounding lights seemed to fade, as if a spotlight was solely focused on him, and the world consisted only of him and her.

Everything else ceased to matter.

The passage of time went unnoticed.

Until she heard the countdown from the stage crew, Blair could feel the pounding of her heart against her eardrums becoming clearer and clearer.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Happiness blossomed and bloomed like fireworks.

Blair had never realized things could be so simple and pure, simply liking someone and experiencing pure joy and happiness, without even needing a response. Even just quietly watching him could brighten her entire day. She had thought her fondness for Anson was merely due to his appearance, but she was unaware that she had already fallen, irrevocably.

Then.

Slowly, gradually, the lights in the studio dimmed, until only a spotlight shone on Miles. The whole world became quiet.

One person. One cello.

Elegant and lonely, calm and solitary.

Then, the strings resonated, weathered yet gentle, melodious and sorrowful. This instrument, unique to classical music, was undoubtedly unfamiliar to the general public, but at this moment, its steady and graceful performance successfully captivated the audience.

But it wasn't enough, not nearly enough.

Eyes fell on the cello, but attention remained scattered, even a little unfocused, assuming it was some kind of classical music performance. It was nothing special, and hard to imagine "The Tonight Show" would specially prepare such a segment, which was slightly disappointing—

When did "The Tonight Show" evolve into "The Oprah Winfrey Show"?

It wasn't that "The Oprah Winfrey Show" was bad, but the nature was different. "The Tonight Show's" viewership tended to prefer sarcastic, humorous, and witty conversations, not Chicken Soup for the Soul, and were even less interested in classical music.

Predictably, gazing was a matter of politeness, while scattered attention was an instinct.

Until—

Connor. Lily. Anson. One by one, they took the stage, all surrounding the cello. Four people, one instrument, yet they perfectly presented the layers and styles of the melody, and the entire studio was stunned.

What, what was this?

Not just the live audience, even Jay Leno was no exception.

Although Jay Leno had already watched the forum video, he knew what was going on, otherwise he wouldn't have agreed to invite an unknown band to the stage:

After all, the summer season was approaching, and the film crews preparing to guest on "The Tonight Show" were lining up. Their daily recordings were already overbooked. If it weren't to ensure that the show wouldn't fall into the promotional trap of summer blockbusters, potentially causing audience aesthetic fatigue, they wouldn't be seeking entirely new content to adjust the mix.

But at this moment, curiosity still made Jay Leno couldn't help but lean forward and crane his neck to look over.

Watching live was even more magical than the video. Even seeing it with his own eyes, he still couldn't believe how they had conceived such inspiration.

Perhaps, the only exceptions in the entire studio were Blair and Karen.

Not exploring, but appreciating.

Last time, they had already witnessed the entire performance live on the street, but that time, they, like today's audience, were so caught up in novelty, excitement, and exhilaration that they forgot themselves and couldn't truly immerse themselves in the music and enjoy it.

Especially Karen.

She was in charge of filming. To capture the entire live performance, she couldn't jump, cheer, or scream. She had to use all her strength to control herself from joining the crowd's revelry.

Today was different.

Karen wanted to truly appreciate it, to immerse herself in the melody, to feel the notes with her heart, body, and soul.

From the melodious and calm a cappella to the collision of instrumental resonance, the richness and layers of the entire arrangement, like a thrilling roller coaster, firmly grasped the hearts of the entire audience and climbed to the summit together. The progressive performance not only demonstrated Anson's control but also showcased the band's diversity.

That passion, that enthusiasm, that happiness, was slowly released step by step, as if one could truly "see" the splendor and grandeur of the notes.

Moreover, just when the live audience thought the arrangement was rich enough and the music had reached its peak, a small twist led them into another world.

Like finding a village hidden by willows and flowers, a completely new scene sparked a tidal wave in the brain.

Incredibly, there was a whole new layer.

When Anson introduced the band members one by one, when each band member won the opportunity to showcase their solo, when one instrument became the core and the other instruments spread out, the layers of the music and the uniqueness of the band were revealed, truly making every audience member feel the band's uniqueness:

The number of people was not just for show.

Every instrument and every member could showcase their charm in different collisions and different arrangements, and even a solo was not lonely.

Like a symphony orchestra.

Finally, Anson returned to the drum position, grabbed the drumsticks, and brought them down heavily—

A war song, impassioned.