From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

A light kiss on the cheek, softly pressed against the crimson, gently soothing the wound.

Anson turned to look at Alicia, his eyes widening, their gazes meeting.

After a brief moment of surprise, the corners of his lips curved upward slightly.

Those confusions and perplexities, those lonelinesses and losses, found the same frequency in the exchange of glances, subtly resonating.

Unconsciously, he understood.

A smile touched the corners of his lips, dyeing the depths of his eyes with a layer of faint brilliance.

It was a resonance belonging to kindred spirits, one that only they could receive, and only they could understand.

She couldn't believe she was in a movie, even less that she was acting with Anson, but the most incredible thing was this very moment.

She was kissing Anson.

Even if it was just on the cheek, her heart had lost its rhythm, beating wildly, as if it were on fire.

Her eyes flickered slightly, but when she saw Anson's deep blue eyes, she couldn't help but stop.

Clear, bright, you could see straight to the bottom.

Before Alicia realized it, the nervousness and shyness had quietly settled, and then she saw the reflection in that azure blue, the corners of his lips gently raised in a smile.

She looked back generously, but didn't linger.

A little shy, and a little flustered.

Still somewhat green, after all.

"See you later. I, uh, I have to go to a LGBTQ alliance meeting."

She said as she backed away.

Anson nodded lightly, "Okay."

Alicia, "You'll be okay, right?"

Anson chuckled softly, "Yeah."

Alicia knew she needed to turn and leave, but her gaze never left Anson.

She thought, she needed to confirm one more time.

So, she did, naturally, an instinctive reaction.

Alicia slightly raised her chin, her hands behind her back, stepping backward step by step, her gaze always on Anson, scrutinizing him up and down.

That look was clearly further confirming Anson's condition, as if saying: Are you alright?

This made Anson's lips curve into a shy smile.

The smile in Alicia's eyes bloomed along with it.

This time she didn't linger any longer, turning and striding away, leaving Anson alone in the empty room.

Gus: !

Gus wanted to applaud, but he couldn't.

Gus wanted to cheer, but he couldn't either.

This was why Gus liked filming movies, this was why Gus liked capturing the state of the actors—

No script, no lines, no framework, but entrusting the role to the actor, the role taking root in the actor's soul, growing freely and unrestrained.

Back then, during the filming of "My Own Private Idaho," the most famous and wonderful campfire conversation in the entire movie was created by River Phoenix himself.

It was a dialogue between him and the character, and it was the soul he gave to the character, which in turn truly gave the character life.

The same was true now.

Anson and Alicia, Alicia and Anson, two ordinary middle school students, a kiss of comfort and resonance, allowing two fragile souls to briefly warm each other, not love, not even friendship, but leaving a lingering charm.

Even Alicia's performance became vivid and agile.

At this moment, the camera had persuasiveness, unprecedentedly real, even Gus himself couldn't tell whether this was a movie or reality.

Gus was very happy and very excited, but he needed to restrain himself, so he clenched his fists, curled up his knees, and like a silkworm chrysalis, curled up in front of the monitor, watching the small screen with flickering eyes, letting the excitement and enthusiasm in his mind bloom and blossom, quietly waiting.

Anson stood in place, paused slightly, his gaze fixed on Alicia as she left, he lowered his head, rubbed his cheeks vigorously, and when he turned again, he opened his shoulders, straightened his back, and broke free from the chaotic and disorderly thoughts.

Then.

He looked up again at that photographic work, standing quietly in place.

Just for a second, he couldn't help but become lost in thought again.

He thought he had cheered up, he thought he had broken free, he thought he was awake, but the distracting thoughts attacked again.

That pool of azure blue gradually collapsed in the calm, his thoughts seemed to fall again, falling from high altitude, falling into the deep sea, sinking endlessly all the way down.

He hurriedly raised his hand and rubbed his eyes vigorously, wiping the corners of his eyes dry before the tears could well up.

Inhale, exhale deeply.

Inhale again, exhale deeply again.

Tears, after all, did not appear again, but the blankness and confusion in those eyes quietly diffused, like a lost fawn, Bambi.

Those thin shoulders bore too much weight that did not belong to this age.

Blankly, for a long time, staring at that vast ocean, the turbulent and surging emotions slowly settled down, disappearing into nothingness.

Time, started flowing again; only he, was still standing still.

And then—

"Cut."

Gus said.

In fact, Gus didn't want to stop filming.

The scene in the corridor just now, even though there was no camera filming, Anson was still walking straight ahead, his entire state and aura completely captivating.

It was the same now, the scene had already finished filming, but Anson was still maintaining the state, an extension, a continuation, even more charming.

If he could, Gus would be willing to keep watching like this, watching Anson's performance was truly an enjoyment, perfectly presenting the state and emotions he had conceived in his mind, the rich layers, the delicate emotions, the real state, gradually drawing the audience's thoughts into the tide.

Walking. Standing. Breathing.

The simplest, most ordinary, most normal actions, but with just a few strokes, they vividly depicted the life of a seventeen-year-old, so brilliant and so real, every pore telling a story, firmly controlling the camera, the power of light and shadow slowly depicting every wound on the soul.

The power of time and the weight of life, unprecedentedly clear.

Gus could sit behind the monitor and watch Anson like this, all the way to the end of time, it wouldn't be a problem.

Incredible, this was the same Anson who had NG'd a full fourteen times before.

But, he couldn't.

Movies were not reality after all, he needed to end filming, otherwise, he might not be able to keep up with the schedule.

Despite the helplessness, despite the reluctance—

"Cut."

Gus didn't shout it out loud, he himself didn't realize he had controlled the volume, as if afraid of disturbing Anson.

So, this time there was no magical release effect, the entire crew was still immersed in that state, as if they could hear the sound of emotions flowing in the air, everyone was immersed in their own world, letting their thoughts and emotions scatter and extend.

Clearly, the movie filming had ended, thoughts should have returned to reality; however, the soul still remained in the space fabricated by light and shadow, separated from the body.

This was a wonderful experience.

Huff.

Gus couldn't help but exhale a long breath, like Anson, even the small actions of inhaling and exhaling could clearly feel the weight of emotions.

Then, Gus stood up, still not breaking the silence of the filming set, and walked straight towards Anson.