1441-1445

Chapter 1441: Career Crisis 

In the living room, it was just Burt and Anson now, but the little apartment still felt packed. Warm yellow lights glowed in every corner, and busy figures buzzed around, making it cozy and lively. 

As the crowd thinned out, the vibe didn’t turn awkward or quiet—it actually got more chill. 

Burt loosened his tie, finally catching a breather. He plopped onto the back of the sofa, looking relaxed, and started chatting with Anson. 

“So, Anson, what do you do?” 

Anson: “…I’m an actor.” 

Burt’s face lit up. “Oh, awesome! Look at me, brain’s too fried to connect the dots—you and Annie must’ve met through work, right?” 

Anson thought about it. “Yeah, pretty much. So, what do you do?” 

Burt let out a heavy sigh. “Stockbroker. Nothing like your gig. But I did some off-Broadway theater back in the day.” 

“‘Twelfth Night,’ Shakespeare.” 

“Well, more like off-off… uh, off-off-off-Broadway. Some random corner in Brooklyn no one’s heard of or cares about. Except us—no one else would even link it to Broadway.” 

“Annie and I used to perform together in school too. Shakespeare again. But that feels like forever ago.” 

As he talked, Burt got a little wistful, his face hinting at some melancholy about where he was now. 

“I always thought it was a brutal gig—I mean, the pay’s downright tragic, right?” 

Anson nodded slightly. “Oh, for sure.” 

Burt sighed again, lost in his own thoughts. “Look at Annie. Princess Diaries was one thing—she was new, no leverage, we all pay a price for being young. But even with Ella Enchanted, Disney still squeezed her paycheck dry.” 

“If it weren’t for Princess Diaries 2 giving her some bargaining power, things would still suck.” 

“But honestly, Annie’s lucky—crazy lucky. I knew some folks from college—smart, sharp, crazy talented. They’ve been grinding in this biz longer than you, and they’re still scraping by on seven or eight grand a year. I can’t even imagine that life.” 

“So, what do you mostly do?” 

Anson replied politely, “Movies. Mostly.” 

Burt’s eyes sparkled, his mood lifting. “Oh, you’re Annie’s co-worker? That’s dope! Nice job! So, how’s the movie money?” 

“Like, what’d you make on your last film?” 

Anson hesitated. “…I’m not totally sure. Memory’s a little fuzzy.” 

Burt caught on quick and backpedaled. “Oh, crap, sorry! Didn’t mean to pry—forgive my bad manners. Total occupational hazard.” 

Anson waved it off. “No, no, it’s fine! I just haven’t checked. If I’m remembering right, it’s probably between thirty and forty million.” 

Burt: … 

He froze mid-peanut-munch, hand stuck in the air. 

Then Thomas’s voice cut through the silence. “Dinner’s ready! Everyone, come to the dining room!” 

Anson gave Burt a polite nod, then turned toward the kitchen. “Michael, where’s the bathroom?” 

Michael pointed the way, and Anson thanked him before heading off. 

The second he was gone, Drew shoved Annie into the kitchen. Michael and Thomas swooped in like a tag team, boxing her in. Thomas couldn’t hold back. 

“Quick, spill it! Why’s Anson Wood here? Are you guys dating?!”  

Annie waved her hands like crazy, about to explain, when Burt’s peanuts hit the floor—along with his jaw. 

All eyes snapped to him. 

“Anson Wood?” Burt repeated, stunned, like a deer in headlights. 

His voice boomed, and everyone shushed him at once—“Shh!” “Keep it down!” “You want him to hear us?!” “Shut it!” 

Burt didn’t have time to argue. “You mean the Anson Wood? With Annie…?” 

No one answered. No one needed to. 

“Shh!” 

“Quiet!” 

“Shh!” 

That was answer enough. 

Burt glanced at the bathroom, his heart sinking. “Oh, God.” 

He clutched his head, feeling like his brain was about to explode. 

Michael snapped to first, a bad vibe creeping in. “What’s wrong?” 

Burt didn’t even hear him. “Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it.” 

Michael pressed, “What’d you say to him?” 

Burt looked around, dazed. “I, uh, I think I gotta bounce. Michael, sorry, I can’t stick around to taste Thomas’s disaster cooking tonight.” 

Thomas: “Hey!” 

Drew eyed Burt. “Wait, dude, you didn’t recognize him?” 

Burt looked dead inside. “You clocked him right away?” 

Drew: “Duh, it’s freaking Anson Wood!” 

Burt: “…I know that, but I wasn’t expecting to see him here. God, it didn’t even cross my mind.” 

Drew couldn’t hold it in and silently cracked up. “You didn’t think he was some lazy bum, did you?” 

Thomas shook his head. “Nah, Burt’s not that mean. He probably just pegged him as a pretty-boy with no substance.” 

Ha! Haha! 

Even Annie couldn’t stop her grin. 

Burt threw up his hands, totally giving up. “Whatever, laugh it up. My life’s over anyway—career’s tanking, love life’s a bust. Oh, right, Annie’s dating Anson, and I’m the only single loser here. Admit it, you’re all out to murder me tonight, huh?”  

The convo screeched to a halt—Anson was back. 

“Hey, my stomach’s yelling at me. When’s dinner?”  

Thomas smirked, whispering to the group, “Y’all can trash my cooking all you want, but look who’s pumped for it tonight.” 

Then he called out, “Now, right now! Take a seat!” 

Anson rubbed his hands together, eyes gleaming. “I’m ready for this feast!” 

Annie stepped up, leaning in close to whisper, “You sure you filled up in Midtown first?” 

Anson chuckled and flashed her an “OK” sign. “Don’t worry about me.”  

Dinner… was a blast. 

No exaggeration—it was way more fun than anyone expected. Chill, relaxed, just perfect. 

Anson had this knack for taking over the vibe without even trying—everything just flowed. 

It wasn’t until he and Annie left the apartment and the door clicked shut that reality hit. The second it did, a tidal wave of cheers and screams erupted behind them. 

“Ahh!” 

“Oh my God, unbelievable!”  

“Haha, what even happened tonight?!” 

The excitement burst through the thin door—shrieks, jumps, total chaos. Anson and Annie froze, turning back like something wild was going down inside. 

Annie blinked at Anson. “Sorry, it’s a family thing. They do this every time I leave—just to mess with me. I know, it’s dumb. I’ve told them I hate it.”  

Haha! 

Chapter 1442: Gorgeous Silk 

“…Thanks,” Annie said, breaking the silence. “I know Thomas’s cooking is a disaster. Drew and I both hid our beef under the table—he must’ve swapped the salt for the sugar jar. Thanks for not calling it out.” 

Michael had noticed too. From the kitchen, he shot Annie a quiet thank-you nod— 

Neither of them expected Anson to be so down-to-earth, nothing like the Hollywood superstar they’d imagined. 

Even Thomas, the picky, hard-to-please one, was smug all night, acting like Anson was his best buddy. 

Anson shrugged lightly. “Okay, confession time—I was about to flip the table, but then I figured covering up the crime scene might be a hassle, so I let it slide.” 

Annie’s smile bloomed, and Anson kept going. 

“It wasn’t that bad, honestly. I偷偷 sprinkled a ton of black pepper on it—like, a lot. At some point, I wasn’t even sure what I was shoving in my mouth.” 

Haha! 

Annie burst out laughing, glancing up at Anson bathed in moonlight. Her heartbeat skipped, flustered, and she quickly looked away. 

“So, at dinner tonight… were you serious?” she blurted, switching topics fast. 

Anson tilted his head. “Which part?” 

Annie clarified, “About actors.” 

Anson shrugged again. “Oh, totally. I mean, we’re all products, right? Packaged up layer by layer through movies and roles, put on display in a shop window.” 

“Maybe a pretty vase. Maybe a princess.” 

“Tom Cruise is the charming heartthrob, Brad Pitt’s the sexy beast, Tom Hanks is the lovable everyman, George Clooney’s the suave gentleman, Johnny Depp’s the edgy rebel, and Leonardo DiCaprio? He’s… Jack Dawson.” 

Pfft! 

Annie couldn’t hold it in—she cracked up. 

Anson grinned. “On the surface, Hollywood’s all dazzling silk, but peel it back, and you see the struggles underneath. We’ve all got our chains, and only we know what they are.” 

“When people think we’re lounging on yacht decks, soaking up the Mediterranean sun… well, that’s true.” 

Annie blinked. Hahaha! 

“But it comes with its own pain and responsibilities.” 

“Some actors, like Burt said, never break free of those chains. They fade away, unknown, just scraping by—it’s a paycheck gig.” 

“Others get a brief taste of success, basking in the spotlight for a moment, but they can’t escape their limits. Three years? Five, tops? Then they’re gone, blending into the crowd.” 

“People see that short burst of glory, but not the long, dark slump that follows. Once they’re out, no one’s watching anymore.” 

“We’re the same.” 

“Right now, everything looks perfect—we’ve got what the world envies. But if we don’t push for more, we don’t even need to wait for age or for people to get bored of this face. We’ll trap ourselves in our own roles and fade away.” 

Anson turned to Annie with a smile. 

“Hollywood doesn’t believe in tears.” 

Tonight at dinner, they’d all vented about their lives—half-joking, of course. Everyone—Michael, Burt, Thomas, Drew—had their own gripes and doubts. 

They’d assumed Anson, of all people, would be free of worries. But then he dropped this. 

It just proved the old saying: you can’t judge a book by its cover. 

When we peek at someone else’s life, we see the shiny, happy bits and get jealous. But it’s never that simple—everyone’s wrestling with their own desires and struggles, chasing some elusive answer to happiness. 

Lost in Anson’s calm words, Annie’s thoughts drifted under the moonlight. “So… do you have the answer?” 

Anson’s face was open, honest. “Nope, I don’t.” 

Annie blinked. “I thought—” 

He chuckled softly. “You thought I’d have it all figured out, right? Talking like I’ve got the keys to life. But that’s just a front—a trick. Knowing the theory’s one thing; living it’s another.” 

“I don’t think there’s a ‘right’ answer. Everyone’s got their own path, and until the future plays out, no one knows who’s got it right.” 

“But…” 

He paused. Annie looked up at him. 

“But I think I’d choose to take risks—try the things I’ve always wanted to but been too scared to. That’s the magic of acting, isn’t it? Different roles, different challenges?” 

“God, if I just wanted to keep being me, I’d grab a desk job in Manhattan. Why bother being an actor?” 

Ha! Hahaha! 

Annie’s spirits soared. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she studied Anson. “How are you always so clear-headed and chill about it?” 

Anson’s lips quirked. “I’m trying—trying to be real with myself. Maybe I can fool everyone else—acting’s my job, after all—but at the end of the day, we can’t lie to ourselves.” 

Such a simple, casual line, but it hit Annie hard. She froze, eyes locked on Anson’s face, her heart pounding like crazy. Her breath hitched as she gazed at him, slowly… 

Falling. 

Silence stretched between them. No reply. Anson glanced over, tossing her a questioning look. 

Annie jolted, cheeks blazing. She whipped her head away, stammering, “L-look! These streets—they’re all lined with greenery! It’s so thick, it hides these mysterious gardens. From outside, they’re just trees, but inside, it’s a whole different world.” 

“Like a little village.” 

She had no idea what she was babbling about—just blurting out whatever she saw. 

But then Anson said, “Let’s go check it out.” 

Annie nearly jumped. “What?!” 

Anson was already striding over, peering through the iron bars. “Remember what we just talked about? Adventure?” 

Annie: …Uh, she wasn’t sure her brain could keep up with him. 

“No, no way! These gardens are all locked up with iron gates. See those spikes? I don’t know if it’s ‘One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest’ in there, but they’re private—only the people living inside can get in.” 

Anson pressed his lips together, raising a brow. “If I’m not mistaken, this isn’t Texas.” 

In Texas, trespassing might get you greeted with a shotgun. 

Annie’s jaw dropped, staring at him dumbfounded. 

A glint flickered in Anson’s clear blue eyes. Before she could respond, he grabbed the bars and started climbing. 

Annie: ??? 

“…Anson! Anson, I—uh—I don’t think this is a good idea! What if there’s a guard dog? Are you sure your suit’s okay with this?!” 

Chapter 1443: Moonlight Fountain 

“…Anson.” 

Adrenaline surged through her, a wild mix of nerves and excitement churning in her stomach. Annie felt a little queasy as she glanced at Anson’s back, darting her eyes around, terrified someone might catch them in the act. 

The next second, she realized her voice had echoed down the street. She quickly hushed herself, whispering urgently, “Anson. Anson…” 

But in that split moment, Anson had already vaulted over with ninja-like agility— 

No surprise there; he was the current Spider-Man. 

Annie whipped around to see him standing in the garden, grinning and waving. She froze. 

Anson lowered his voice too, teasing from his throat, “Annie, you’re not scared, are you?”  

That one line made her laugh. “Scared? No way! I was a total tomboy growing up—climbing trees and hopping walls was nothing to me.” 

Anson tilted his chin up, pretending to have a lightbulb moment. “Ohh, so it’s your agent then? They want you to keep up that perfect image—flawless, untouchable, making everyone swoon?” 

“Or maybe Disney? I mean, a princess caught sneaking into Alice’s secret garden? That’s front-page New York Times section-six material right there!” 

Just two sentences, and Annie’s competitive streak flared up. 

In a flash, she remembered The Princess Diaries. After Mia became a princess, every reporter and classmate was dying to see her slip up. Any tiny mistake became ammo against her. Amid the flashing lights and chaos, she started losing herself. 

And now, in real life, Annie felt the same— 

Trapped, tangled in a princess’s gown. 

Looking up at Anson again, it hit her: he was doing this on purpose. He wanted to break her free from that princess mold, help her reclaim her freedom. 

No time to overthink it. That reckless, impulsive spark she hadn’t felt in ages roared back. 

A little wild, a little daring, a little carefree—breaking loose from the reins. 

Annie glanced at her jeans, then scrambled up the iron railing with hands and feet. In a few quick moves, she was over, landing smoothly without a hitch. 

It was… so easy. 

Normally, those railings and fences loomed like an unclimbable wall, their spikes and thorns drawing a line she couldn’t cross. 

But now? 

Thud. 

Her feet hit the ground inside, solid and steady. A thrill she couldn’t quite name fluttered in her stomach like butterflies, the rush of shedding invisible chains coursing through her veins. Before she knew it, a smile crept onto her lips. 

But then— 

Her lingering rationality kicked in. She glanced back at the street, realizing she was on private property. This definitely wasn’t “proper.” She tried to flatten her grin, but the butterflies sped up, the thrill of breaking rules clashing with her nerves. 

“Anson…” 

Peering ahead, she searched for him in the moonlight. Far from the streetlights, the darkness swallowed her vision, leaving only a vague silhouette. Heart racing, she hurried after him. 

“What in the world is worth all this trouble…?” 

Her words trailed off, swallowed mid-sentence as she stared at the scene ahead. Her brain short-circuited— 

Thick, sprawling branches stretched overhead, impossible to tell in the dark if they were banyan or sycamore. Like a guardian, they cradled a tiny pocket of the world: a bench, a swing, and a small fountain sitting quietly below. 

Moonlight pierced the night, filtering through the leaves in scattered beams. Sparkling water danced under its glow. 

The world was so still. 

No noise, no chaos, not even an extra sound—just the soft rustle of the breeze through the treetops. All the restlessness settled into calm. 

In that silence, only her heartbeat pulsed against her eardrums, drawing her gaze until it locked with his. 

One look, completely unprepared, and she tumbled into the depths of his eyes. 

Falling, slowly. 

Thump, thump. Her heart slammed against her chest, louder, stronger, wilder, like crashing waves. 

“Annie…” 

“Shh, don’t talk. Not now—just for a moment.” 

Closer. 

Even closer. 

Guided only by the pull of their breaths, they closed the gap silently. First, the warmth of his skin brushed hers, then the heat of boiling blood surged. Before the pounding in her chest drowned out all reason, she parted her lips, swallowing every breath, every sound. 

And in that silent storm, they lost themselves. 

For a long, long time. 

Until her lungs screamed for air and the roar in her head spun the world dizzy, they finally pulled apart. 

Neither spoke. Neither moved away. Just foreheads pressed together, breaths tangling in the air. 

“Ha.” Joy and bliss burst out like a fountain. Annie couldn’t hold it in, her cheeks flushing as she bit her lip. “The garden’s really gorgeous.” 

That soft whisper made Anson’s smile bloom fully. “See? Told you it’d be worth it.”  

Shyness and glee lit up her face. She slipped out of his cozy embrace, jogging a few steps forward to gaze up at the lush canopy, hunting for stars between the branches. 

“So, is this lilac? I thought it might be sycamore.” 

Anson hurried after her. “You’ve got me there—I’m clueless about plants.” 

“But even I know lilac and sycamore look totally different, despite my zero plant knowledge.” 

Annie spun around, arms wide. “So, lilac or sycamore?” 

Anson tilted his head, studying it seriously. “I think it’s a witness to love. That’s what matters most.” 

Her heart skipped again. Her smile burst wide, but realizing she’d let too much slip, she reined it in. “I had no idea you were this cheesy. Guess guys need time to show their true colors, huh?”  

Anson spread his hands, flashing a sheepish grin. “Busted. I’ve been hiding this side so carefully—only a tiny handful of people ever see the real me.” 

Annie giggled. 

“You’re the first.” 

She froze, her smile lingering. Those bright eyes locked onto his, peering quietly, deeply into that clear, endless gaze—like a starry night, like the ocean. The thundering heartbeat faded, and the world spun faster. 

So this free-fall, this endless drop—was this what falling in love felt like? 

Chapter 1444: Fairy Tale 

Thump, thump— 

Her heart wouldn’t stop racing, completely out of control. 

Even though Annie tried to rein herself in, the bubbling joy and the grin tugging at her lips broke free. “I don’t believe you.” 

“You, Anson Wood, have never shown this side of yourself to another woman?” 

Anson met her skeptical gaze head-on, spreading his hands. “Do you think I need to?” 

Wait—what’s with that cocky vibe?  

Annie tried to muster a sarcastic comeback, but her smile slipped through anyway. “Fair point. You don’t need to. One little finger wiggle, and women come running.” 

Anson shook his head. 

Annie raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Not true?” 

He kept shaking his head. “Nope. I don’t even need to wiggle a finger. They just keep coming, one after another. If they lined up, it’d stretch from here to 72nd Street.” 

Annie: … 

Anson burst out laughing. “Haha!” 

His bright laughter stirred the quiet garden, sending the misty air swirling. He quickly hushed himself, glancing around warily. 

Annie tensed up too, caught in the moment. 

After a beat, the garden stayed silent. They both relaxed, accidentally locking eyes—and realized they’d both been holding their breath, looking equally ridiculous. 

Annie pressed her lips together. “I thought you weren’t scared of anything.” 

Anson threw his hands up. “Forgot my checkbook tonight. Normally, that’d solve anything, but now? I’m a little short on bravado.” 

Annie couldn’t help it. “Pfft!” 

Anson straightened up. “See? Stereotypes. All Leonardo DiCaprio’s fault.” 

Ha! 

Annie nearly lost it, clapping a hand over her mouth at the last second. But her eyes were still sparkling with laughter. 

Anson went on, “In Hollywood, you see a good-looking guy, and everyone assumes: new woman in the morning, another in the afternoon, a third for the evening gala, and then a totally different one leaving his place the next day…” 

Annie muffled her giggles, confusion flickering in her eyes. “Wait… that’s not how it is?” 

Anson grinned. “Okay, it is—but not every day.” 

Annie’s eyes widened: … 

“Please,” he said, “tell the paparazzi to quit with the wild fantasies. Leo wants to be the next Warren Beatty, but not everyone’s like that. Actually, it’s because of stereotypes like that that no one believes me.” 

“They just assume, ‘Oh, that guy’s already got a date.’” 

“But I don’t.” 

Annie squinted, suspicious. “You don’t?” 

Anson met her gaze earnestly. “Nope. But now, I’m hoping to change that. So… wanna go out sometime?” 

Smooth, confident, and straight to the point—an official invite. 

Annie’s eyes and smile lit up as she sized him up. “No.” 

A totally unexpected answer. 

Anson chuckled, tilting his head. “I mean, like, after your promo stuff wraps up.” 

Annie nodded lightly. “I know. But… no. Same answer.” 

Anson blinked, baffled, staring at her. 

She didn’t look away. “I’m serious. Tonight’s it. This is the end. No follow-up, no sequel. Done.” 

Anson realized she meant it and straightened up. “Wait, how’s it over? When did it even start? I thought we hadn’t even begun!” 

“Ha.” Annie cracked up again, but caught herself, trying to stay serious. She pressed her lips together to stop the grin. 

“Honestly, tonight—no, this whole day—it’s been amazing.” 

“Even the exhausting interviews and awful workday were part of it. All that tiredness, frustration, and stress? It made you showing up feel like magic.” 

“No doubt, this is the best memory I’ve had in a long, long time.” 

“But you know what? Beautiful things don’t last. Like flowers—they bloom for a moment, then fade. When something peaks, it’s all downhill from there. Everything gets messy. The only way to keep the memory perfect is to end it right here.” 

Anson tilted his chin up. “So, you’re a pessimist.” 

Annie pursed her lips. “And you’re a romantic? I thought you were a pessimist too.” 

He glanced at her. 

She explained, “Actors don’t last long. The spotlight’s fleeting. No breakthrough, and you’re forgotten—just like you said. We’re on the same page.” 

Anson smiled. “Yeah, that’s true. But here’s the thing: if you’re so scared of failing you don’t even start, what’s the point? No pain, no joy. No fear of losing, and those beautiful memories lose their weight. You’re dodging the adventure.” 

Annie shot back, “And you?” 

Anson didn’t hesitate. “I’m all about the adventure.” 

“I know everlasting love’s like a unicorn—everyone’s heard of it, but no one’s sure it’s real. It’s a fairy tale. We don’t even know if we should believe in it. Like when you grow up and reread those stories, it just doesn’t feel the same.” 

Annie pressed, “But you’d still take the risk?” 

Anson nodded. “Yeah, I would. So… will you take that risk with me?” 

Cool, charming, effortlessly suave. 

Anson was irresistible. No words or grand gestures needed—just standing there, a look, a smile, and he could pull you into a whirlwind. 

Annie’s eyes shone as she watched him. Instead of answering, she flashed a playful grin and turned toward the lone bench in the garden. 

Like the benches in Central Park, this one had a dedication etched on the back. 

“In memory of Anna, who loved this garden dearly, 

Forever with her William.” 

Softly, Annie read it aloud, a pang hitting her chest. Her swirling thoughts settled, and then Anson’s deep voice broke through. 

“Maybe some people do make it through a lifetime together.” 

This time, Annie didn’t look up at him—just kept staring at the bench. 

“Anna Michelle, 1927-2003.” 

No words needed. The dates told the story—they’d spent a lifetime side by side. 

There were highs and lows, pain and struggles, but in the end, they stayed together, cherishing the memory forever. 

Letting out a soft breath, Annie spoke again. “Do you believe in unicorns?” 

Anson didn’t answer. 

She answered herself, “Disney princesses should believe in them, right?” 

And there it was—her answer to him. 

Anson’s smile curved up, but he didn’t push. He stepped back, giving her space. 

Sure enough, Annie sat on the bench, soaking in the moonlight. She glanced at the swing nearby, then tilted her head up, peering through the treetops at the stars. Only the breeze and the faint trickle of a fountain filled the air. 

Anson sat cross-legged on the ground across from her. Neither spoke—just closed their eyes, listening to the wind and water, flowing gently. 

Chapter 1445: Where the Heart Leads 

Does Anson believe in unicorns? 

Nah, he doesn’t. 

After all the chaos and storms of his past life, he stopped buying into fairy tales long ago. If he still clung to them, he’d be a total fool. 

Maybe unicorns exist; maybe they don’t. The real kicker? They’d never show up for him—they’ve got nothing to do with his world. 

Love? 

That’s a luxury. 

In real life, it’s this “luxury” everyone—rich or poor—can supposedly have. But here’s the cruel, hilarious twist: a tiny few never get to touch it. They’re stuck staring at it through a glass case— 

Those few are either filthy rich or dirt poor. 

Who’d have thought a guy like Anson, hitting rock bottom, would share the same woes as billionaires? 

So, in a way, Anson gets Annie. 

Not just gets her—he feels her. Beauty, happiness, joy—they always seem out of reach. When they do sneak into his life, he treasures them like gold, then bolts before he gets greedy or wrecks it all. 

But here’s the difference: this is Anson’s second shot at life. Unicorns or not, he’s made up his mind to give himself a chance— 

To risk it, to feel it, to explore. No fear of getting hurt, no dread of disappointment. This life’s a bonus round anyway. 

Who knows? Maybe at the end of time, at the edge of the universe, he’ll catch a glimpse of a whole new world. 

“We landed in this burning world, destined to cross paths.” 

“Whenever the chaos rises, you’re always by my side, making the air feel fresh.” 

“You make me feel at home—you’re my safe harbor. Wherever you go, love blooms. You’re where my heart leads.” (Note 1) 

Joy, delight, happiness sprouted in his chest, spreading wild and fast, burning bright before spilling out as melody. 

After leaving the garden, Anson walked Annie home, lingering until she stayed behind. 

Annie hesitated, unsure if she should invite him up for coffee. But Anson hit the brakes first, saying goodbye with a smile. 

“No rush. We’ve got plenty of time ahead—long, long days to come.” 

As he turned to leave, his steps turned light and bouncy. He spun, tapped his feet like a dancer, then grabbed a lamppost, swinging around it in a full 360, belting out— 

“Singing in the Rain!” 🎶 

Yep, straight out of that iconic Singin’ in the Rain scene—the pure, wild joy of falling in love, all in a burst of movement. 

His voice echoed down the street. 

Annie watched, her heart soaring right along with him. 

Then reality crashed in. 

“Shut up! Do you know what time it is?!” 

“Damn it, quiet down!” 

Grumpy yells from nearby apartments yanked them both back to earth. 

Anson swung around the pole one last time, tossing Annie a playful bow before strutting off, leaving a carefree silhouette in his wake. 

Annie’s lips curved up. Even after washing up and tucking into bed, she realized she’d been smiling all night—her face muscles stiff from it. She knew she’d sleep like a baby. 

And Anson? 

He strolled through the streets, wandering a quiet Manhattan past midnight. No roaring cars, no dazzling lights—just him, the buildings, and the pavement. The city hushed, its heartbeat finally clear, syncing with his own pulse and the flow of his blood. Notes danced beneath his light steps. 

It felt so natural. 

Soft, gentle, like a night breeze—nothing loud or flashy, just calm and soothing. The wild rush in his chest melted into a steady stream, humming softly under the vast, empty city sky. 

Eyes closed, arms out, he let himself get lost in the late-spring, early-summer New York night. 

“We went our separate ways to figure out this world, but you’re in every blurry memory I’ve got.” 

“Even when the clouds roll in and darkness falls, your heart’s still what I crave—I’m drowning in every piece of you.” 

“You make me feel at home—you’re my safe harbor. Wherever you go, love blooms. You’re where my heart leads.” 

It wasn’t just sweetness or happiness, not just excitement or joy—it was peace, calm, a long-lost stillness. 

All the noise and chaos faded. All the unease and worry smoothed out. In the midst of storms and crashing waves, he found a quiet he’d forgotten existed. 

These past months, Anson had slogged through the roughest, darkest stretch since crossing into this life. Endless nights with no direction, no end in sight, trudging alone. He thought he’d made it through the shadows to the other side, but the restless churn in his mind still haunted his dreams. 

Until now. 

More than joy or bliss, this peace felt precious. 

“No more fear with you beside me; wherever you are, that’s paradise. Just holding you close, time slips away too fast—I want nothing more.” 

Simple, pure, light as a breeze, but it sank deep into his bones. 

It cut through every mask and shield, rippling through his soul. 

Now, Anson finally got the magic of musicals. His first taste was High School Musical—watching those kids burst into song and dance out of nowhere was so awkward it nearly killed him. Bollywood vibes, anyone? 

But life’s like that. 

Sometimes words can’t nail down what you feel. How do you cram a mess of emotions into a couple of plain phrases? 

So you sing. You dance. You let it out that way. 

It’s instinct—raw and primal. 

Like when we were kids, feeling everything but stuck with a tiny vocab and lousy ways to say it. So we bawled, we laughed, we ran wild. We splashed in puddles, threw our bodies into it, fearless even when we crashed and bled. 

Growing up, we rein it in. We stop moving, stop feeling out loud. Words turn stiff and cold, building walls between us. 

Later musicals lost that spark because the creators missed the point. Singing and dancing just for the sake of it—no heart, no story, no connection. 

Nothing’s matched Singin’ in the Rain—that dance in the downpour, pure love and giddy bliss in every step. 

It’s no wonder it’s the golden age of Hollywood musicals—time’s proven it’s a legend. 

Maybe, if the chance comes up, Anson thought starring in a musical could be a fun challenge— 

Not High School Musical, though.  

Note 1: “At Home” by Jon Bryant