From Flower Vase to Film Emperor in Hollywood

"Ansen, Ansen, this is 'American Weekly'. … …"

"Little Frank-William-Abagnale, look here!"

"Ansen-Wood!"

All along the way, accompanying Ansen's steps, the media on the left side of the red carpet shouted themselves hoarse, trying to attract Ansen's attention with different keywords and make this super nova stop.

Then—

"Lucas!"

A call, very, very unexpectedly, caught Ansen's ear at once. He looked over in the direction of the sound and saw a familiar face at a glance.

Nicholas Flynn from "The New York Times."

Ansen immediately realized that he had been tricked and had fallen into the other party's trap.

The other reporters around him were confused, moving their gazes back and forth quickly between Nicholas and Ansen, trying to decipher the "Lucas" code, wondering why this name could make Ansen stop.

A faint smile appeared on the corner of Ansen's mouth, and he looked at Nicholas meaningfully.

Nicholas understood and didn't move, just kept his mouth tightly shut:

Don't worry, the secret is safe with me.

Ansen certainly knew that information about his family would not remain confidential for too long. As long as the media was interested, they would be able to dig it out; but he still hoped to delay it for as long as possible, so that they could have some peace and quiet.

"Hey, Nick."

Ansen took the initiative to greet him. The envious and jealous gazes around him instantly engulfed Nicholas like a rainstorm, and the air almost burned.

Nicholas didn't have time to pay attention to the others, and immediately threw out a question, "How does it feel to attend the Golden Globes for the first time?"

Ansen relaxed. Just standing there, his handsome and elegant temperament easily grabbed attention. The flashes of light poured down like a waterfall, and the sound of the shutters almost drowned out the screams of the audience.

—"Ansen, marry me."

A heart-rending shout tore through the rolling heat and exploded.

This scene made the smile on the corner of Ansen's mouth rise. He raised his voice and replied, "Please wait for me at City Hall for a moment."

Ah, ah, ah.

Ah!

The screams instantly lost control, and the entrance of the Hollywood Hilton Hotel became scorched earth.

Retracting his gaze, the surrounding reporters also whistled and cheered to join in the fun, so that Ansen was interrupted before he could speak.

After waiting for a moment, Ansen was able to speak, shrugging his shoulders and spreading his hands slightly, "A little nervous, I'm trying to find a place to put my feet here."

Relaxed, comfortable, and natural.

This is Ansen, but thinking about it, when Ansen first stepped on the Emmy Awards red carpet, he showed unparalleled demeanor and style, so there is no need to be surprised or sigh at this scene.

Nicholas was not surprised, nor did he have time to be surprised. He knew he had to hurry. "So, do you have a premonition of winning an award tonight?"

"After all, last time at the Emmys, you won an award with your first nomination."

"Ha." Ansen chuckled, "That used up all my luck."

"No, I don't think tonight's awards have anything to do with me. I hope to enjoy the party. I heard that the Golden Globes buffet is very delicious."

As humorous as ever, where was there any hint of nervousness?

Nicholas' peripheral vision could capture the eager figures scrambling on both sides, all trying to grab attention—

Here, the authoritative reputation of "The New York Times" did not have any advantage at all. No one cared.

So, Nicholas needed to hurry and throw the focus out directly.

"Ansen, rumors say you rejected the 'Ocean's Twelve' proposal, is it because of Brad Pitt? Or is it because of Matt Damon?"

This was the truth, because all the reporters and staff coming and going held their breath, and even the TV camera crew that was quickly approaching stood still like wooden figures, keeping their distance.

Everything was as if the pause button had been pressed—

Tense, anxious.

However, Ansen just found it funny.

He punctured it immediately.

As a result, the reporters also realized that they had been holding their breath, and a sense of humor overflowed, slightly embarrassed, slightly awkward, but unable to help but laugh.

Then.

"Actually, it's because of George Clooney."

Ansen gave a different answer.

He knew that the reporters were preparing to probe and see what the relationship between Ansen and Brad and Matt was. Tonight, these three people would all appear at the awards ceremony, and their every move next would be studied under a magnifying glass. At this moment, Ansen's answer would lay the foundation for everything.

But Ansen seemed to have not understood the reporter's subtext, and gave another answer.

"Obviously, George thinks I'm too young to show the charm of a black suit. I completely disagree, but I swear to defend his right to express his opinion."

Ha.

A burst of laughter.

On the "Ocean's Eleven" poster, George, Brad, Matt, and all of them wore straight black suits at once. Ansen was joking about this—

One hundred percent nonsense.

Ansen did not hide his nonsense, but cleverly shifted the topic to himself; coupled with the last sentence, the comedic effect came out.

Moreover, Ansen did not respond directly from beginning to end.

Nicholas noticed that Ansen was slippery, and he was ready to continue to press; but this time, he missed the opportunity, and the NBC live broadcast team appeared.

Everyone was craving Ansen, including the TV station.

Irene Haynes, wearing a light purple dress, approached gracefully, the camera aimed at Ansen, and she shouted to Nicholas.

"Sorry, can we borrow Ansen for two minutes?"

Nicholas: Heh heh. No.

If he said no at this time, the scene should be very funny; but he couldn't, after all, he still needed to give NBC TV a little face.

Grinning, smiling insincerely, nodding lightly, and watching the TV station intercept him.

Not only Nicholas, but all the other reporters around rolled their eyes.

The camera didn't capture it, but Ansen didn't miss it, and this scene made the smile on the corner of his mouth fully bloom.

Irene looked at Ansen, feeling a little dizzy—

The suit was tailored just right, one point more was superfluous, and one point less was insufficient. The delicate fabric wrapped and outlined the muscle lines of the body little by little.

Pulling away slightly, you couldn't see it. The slender figure had a vampire-like paleness and slenderness; but really standing in front of you was completely different. The tension of the muscles completely stretched the fabric, and a surge of hormonal heat rushed towards you, the pure and fierce aura making people blush and their hearts beat faster.

Perfectly just right.

Only at this time could you truly feel the charm of this suit.

To be precise, it should be the chemical reaction completed by wearing it on Ansen.

No wonder the audience fans at the front of the red carpet all had their brains freeze.

At this time, Irene couldn't help but hold her breath, her brain had a brief moment of blankness, completely caught up in Ansen's charm, unable to extricate herself.

Fortunately, Irene did not completely lose herself and managed to regain her sanity.

"I can't believe the words I'm about to say, but I want to ask… whose suit is this?"