1469-1470

Chapter 1469: Emergency Brake 

Cameos, crossovers, dabbling— 

When people talk about Anson releasing an album, it’s easy for them to slap on lazy stereotypes. They dismiss his music without even listening, jumping straight to conclusions and lumping it into the “fanatical movie buffs blindly cheering” category. 

Even Anson himself often jokes about it: he’s an actor, first and foremost—just an actor. The album and the music? They’re just a side gig, a little spice to mix things up. 

But is that really the case? 

Today proves otherwise. Anson’s got ideas, depth, and the guts to explore his talents with real boldness. 

So while Mike and Dustin were still stuck in their own narrow assumptions— 

“Soft tunes don’t make good lead singles. Music without punch won’t sell. Losing your edge is career suicide.” 

Yada, yada, yada. 

In the span of one song, Anson shatters those stereotypes, flips conventional wisdom on its head, and reawakens the beautiful memories of music buried deep in their minds. 

In a way, the impact of that song just now rivals “Wake Me Up”—maybe even surpasses it. 

So this is the magic of music. This is the kind of music Anson’s set on creating. 

Their minds buzz, short-circuiting for a moment. 

Instinctively, Mike glances at Dustin. 

But this time, Dustin doesn’t have a second to spare for Mike. His eyes are locked on Anson, and even before he speaks, you can feel his excitement bubbling over. 

His heart’s racing, his blood’s pumping. 

“Anson, that song… did you just come up with it on the spot?” A million thoughts swirl in Dustin’s head, and he tosses out the first one that sticks. 

Anson’s grin stretches wide. “No, not quite.” 

“Haha. But I chose to play it now because of you guys. Seriously, you didn’t need to hug me that hard.” 

A little jab, and the tension in the room eases up. 

If you think about it, the song fits Warner Records’ mindset perfectly right now. Mike and Dustin are clinging to Anson with everything they’ve got. 

They didn’t expect him to turn it around and tease them like that. 

Mike doesn’t mind, though. He fires back with a quip, “If you told Dustin to get on his knees right now, he wouldn’t even hesitate.” 

Dustin doesn’t argue. He’s staring at Anson, practically vibrating with eagerness, his expression screaming: Give me the signal, and I’m there. 

The pressure’s immense. 

Anson raises his right hand, pressing it down repeatedly. “‘Wait’—didn’t you hear me singing? Wait, please, be patient. I’m not planning to bolt.” 

“Just… give me a little time.” 

A flicker of amusement dances in Mike’s eyes. He opens his mouth instinctively, though his words come out haltingly. “That song just now… so, did something happen to you recently…?” 

Anson blinks, puzzled. 

Seeing Anson’s blank, honest look, Mike stumbles over his words, hesitating as he tries to explain. “I mean, with a melody that gut-wrenching, have you hit some rough patches lately?” 

This time, it clicks for Anson— 

Mike’s hinting that the song’s inspiration might come from a personal heartbreak. Is that why Anson’s music style has taken a 180-degree turn? 

Pfft. 

Anson bursts out laughing. “No, no, no, no—it’s not from my own life. It’s about a friend.” 

Mike catches on quick, giving a knowing “we’re on the same page” look. “A friend, got it. When the media asks, just stick to that story.” 

Anson chuckles, speechless— 

This is life for you. Tell the truth, and no one buys it. 

The song’s inspiration really did come from a friend—Chris Evans. 

Lately, Chris Evans and Jessica Biel’s relationship has hit a cold spell. Endless arguments have worn them both out, and they’ve agreed they might need some time and space to cool off. So Chris came to New York and crashed at Anson’s place for a while. 

Watching Chris drown his nights in booze—never quite drunk enough—sitting by the floor-to-ceiling window in the dead of night, staring blankly out at Manhattan, Anson could feel the tangled mess of that relationship. 

Maybe they should call it quits, but neither can let go. They still love each other, yet they can’t stand the daily friction. 

What’s more, Chris and Jessica are still young. They don’t know how to talk it out—conversations turn into fights, fights spiral until they forget what started it, who should apologize, or how to make up. They’re just… stuck. 

Anson doesn’t have the answers either. 

Even with two lifetimes under his belt, he knows the saying holds true: “Even the wisest judge can’t settle family matters.” Relationships twist and turn a thousand times. Outsiders might think they’re clear-headed, but they can’t see it all. Knowing every truth doesn’t mean you can fix every problem. All Anson can do is make sure Chris isn’t alone. 

Staying by his side, Anson can sense it—Jessica feels the same. She still loves Chris too, but she can’t find her way back. 

That’s where the lyric came from: “Hold me while you wait.” 

Maybe some problems don’t have solutions. Maybe genuine hearts are the only bridge between them, the only path back to each other. 

Mike’s right, though— 

If this song drops, the media won’t let it go easily. Those hyenas will smell blood and sink their teeth in. 

But Anson’s not about to spill Chris and Jessica’s story. That’s theirs to keep. Looks like he’s stuck carrying this one, huh? 

His grin widens as he nods at Mike. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.” 

A spark of laughter glints in Mike’s eyes. He tries to hold it together, but his body leans forward slightly despite himself. “Anson, that song just now…” 

The song’s name. 

Even though Mike knows he shouldn’t pin it as a lead single, the emotions welling up inside him won’t quit. 

Before he can finish, Anson raises a hand to stop him. 

“Wait.” 

Anson turns back to the piano and starts playing— 

A short chord progression. 

It’s not complete—just two eight-beat chords and some scattered melody fragments. 

It all stems from just now. 

During that performance, a spark of inspiration flashed through his mind like a shooting star. At first, he didn’t pay it much attention—ideas come and go in an instant. But as they settled into conversation, out of nowhere, it hit him again, buzzing relentlessly in his head. 

Chris Evans and Jessica Biel’s story could go either way. Maybe they’ll find their way back to each other, or maybe they’ll part for good. Especially knowing how things played out in his past life, Anson feels the regret, the helplessness, the bitterness, the dimness—all of it igniting a spark. 

A touch of urgency, a hint of longing, a flicker of excitement. 

The emotions surge, practically bursting out. 

Anson has to cut the talk short. He sits back at the piano, grounding himself, feeling the power of his fingertips colliding with the keys. The repeated chords come alive, slowly flowing together into a steady stream. 

Chapter 1470: Emotional Surge  

Anson knew it wasn’t polite to cut off a conversation midstream and dive into his own world like that. But the feeling was too overwhelming, too intense. His heart clenched tight, and the roar in his mind wouldn’t stop—like a tidal wave crashing through, unstoppable and out of control.  

He needed to let it out. He needed to capture it.  

The moment his fingertips brushed the black-and-white keys, those scalding, fiery emotions turned into notes. They poured out like a sudden storm, relentless and unceasing.  

From halting stumbles to a seamless flow, the notes streaming from his fingers were so powerful, so full, so alive with passion. Emotion spilled over—raw and blazing—almost hot enough to scorch the keys. His heart couldn’t help but get swept up in the tempest.  

Faster. Stronger.  

“Blood-red sunset fades into the night, you’re not here, not by my side; I let down my guard, you slipped away, and I’m slowly getting used to being the one who once loved.”  

The syllables, the rhythm, the words, the feelings—they crashed between his lips with force. Loneliness, desolation, pain, despair—all building into a cry.  

Once wasn’t enough. So he went again.  

“Blood-red sunset fades into the night, you’re not here, not by my side; I let down my guard, you slipped away, and I’m slowly getting used to being the one who once loved.”  

That sense of loss and bewilderment echoed between his teeth.  

Full of hope, summoning courage, daring to open up and trust again—only to end up battered once more, left as “the one who once loved.”  

The weight of that phrase—“once loved”—carried such a heavy sigh, such regret. It was almost too much to breathe through.  

That’s why he had to shout it, scream it, rip his heart open to let it all out. Otherwise, he’d vanish into the endless abyss of that pain.  

Just two short lines—no buildup, no easing in—pure emotion unleashed, pushed to the edge without holding back. It was nothing like his earlier performances. The emotional intensity didn’t just hit “one hundred”—it rocketed from zero to a hundred in an instant. The shock and impact came crashing down like a tidal wave.  

The power of the notes and words slammed into them head-on.  

Mike and Dustin froze, staring at Anson, too stunned to react. Who could’ve guessed that right in the middle of a discussion, a work session, everything would screech to a halt—and out would come this torrential downpour of emotion? It was like a summer afternoon storm—  

Fast. Fierce. No room to catch your breath.  

But just as quick as it came, it was gone. Before they could even find shelter, the rain stopped, the sky cleared, and they were left staring at a cloudless expanse, dumbfounded. If not for their soaked clothes, it’d be like the storm never happened. The feeling was the same.  

It hit hard, retreated harder, leaving their hearts dangling in midair—neither up nor down, stuck in limbo. Wave after wave of awe and exhilaration crashed over them, stealing their breath. At the same time, a wild excitement surged up, lodging a gasp in their chests that they forgot to let out.  

Then Anson stopped playing. He sat there in front of the piano, lost in thought for a moment.  

“I don’t like it.”  

Mike: ???  

Dustin, thrown into a panic, couldn’t believe his ears. “…What did you say?”  

Anson repeated himself calmly. “I don’t like it.”  

Dustin blinked, nearly forgetting to breathe. “But… why?”  

That held breath stuck in his chest—he didn’t even notice it. Without thinking, he scooted forward, inching closer to Anson.  

“That one just now—it had even more punch than the last one…”  

Anson cut him off. “Exactly. That’s why. It’s louder, fiercer, bolder—it’s what the market loves right now. People want something intense. No one’s into soft, mellow stuff…”  

Dustin choked on his words. “Isn’t that a good thing?”  

Anson caught the tension on Dustin’s face and realized they’d misunderstood him. “It is—it’s a good thing. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got no beef with the market. I’m not trying to be some quirky rebel showing off my ‘unique vibe.’”  

“Relax, guys, please. A pretty face like me doesn’t have a personality to flaunt.”  

The casual jab lightened the room’s mood a bit, but Mike and Dustin didn’t laugh. They kept their eyes locked on Anson, like they were afraid he’d vanish into thin air like Peter Pan if they blinked. Anson, meanwhile, didn’t seem to notice.  

“Let me think about how to explain this.”  

He glanced up at the ceiling. “The emotions are too much. I mean, love—it’s always gut-wrenching, right? It’s birthed countless classics. But is that all there is?”  

Mike: “Huh?”  

He understood every word, but strung together, they didn’t make sense.  

Anson went on. “I mean, repeating love over and over—it gets old. It’s too narrow.”  

Mike’s eyes widened. “Is this because of what I said earlier?”  

He sounded a little frantic. “Are you worried the media’s gonna latch onto the lyrics and start digging into what kind of love story Anson Wood’s been hiding?”  

“Ha!” Anson laughed outright. “No, I’m not worried about that.”  

Dealing with the media? That was never something Anson lost sleep over.  

But how could he put this feeling into words?  

The melody, the lyrics, the spark—it all came from Chris Evans and Jessica Biel. But this last song wasn’t quite like “Hold Me Tight While We Wait.” It wasn’t entirely rooted in their story. It started there, sure, but it stretched out into something unknown, something broader.  

If it was just a starting point, why box in what lay ahead?  

“I’ve always thought lyrics are a huge part of music. It’s what sets pop apart from classical. If the lyrics aren’t crafted with care, they’re just noise—meaningless word salad. The music ends up no different from some DJ set.”  

“It’s not just about the melody. I want the lyrics to be polished too. But keeping it all about love? That’s not the way to go.”  

Stepping away from the band’s structure, Anson had been wrestling with this: how does one person fill a stage alone?  

The Grammys performance of “Don’t Be Pretentious” earlier this year sparked something. Playing Johnny Cash in Walk the Line added more fuel. In the end, his focus landed on the lyrics.  

From another angle, for a journalism grad like Anson, this was a return to his roots—his comfort zone.  

But it wasn’t easy.  

Art comes from life and rises above it. The hard part? Most art only comes from life and never gets higher.  

Dustin finally caught his breath. “Then switch it up.”  

“There’s more to life than love and heartbreak. There’s birth, aging, sickness, death—stuff none of us can escape or fight. The end’s the same for everyone.”  

“Death. Look, we all know it’s coming. It’s right there, waiting. But isn’t it wild how hardly anyone wants to talk about it?”