1276-1280

*Chapter 1276: Open and Aboveboard*

Cody's heart pounded violently, as if it were about to burst. His mind was a whirlwind of chaotic thoughts, impossible to quiet.

After thinking it over, Cody decided he could at least minimize the damage. There was no need to drag everyone else down. After all, everyone was just trying to make a living, and life wasn’t easy for anyone.

So, he clenched his teeth and made up his mind.

“It was all me. I said everything on my own. I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things, but I did.”

He took full responsibility.

In front of him, Anson let out a soft sigh. “God, I must really have a terrifying reputation.”

Cody waved his hands frantically. “No, no, no, that’s not it. It’s just that we—well, I—gossiped about you behind your back. Nobody likes to be unfairly criticized, myself included. So, I’m just here to apologize.”

As Cody spoke, he finally noticed the expression on Anson’s face.

Calm. Composed. Unfazed.

Cody froze, filled with questions, even starting to doubt his own judgment—

Could it be? No, no, no, that’s impossible. But then? Looking at him now?

“Wait a minute… could it be…” Cody hesitated, swallowing hard before summoning the courage to ask, “Do you really not care?”

The moment he asked, Cody immediately felt ridiculous. There was no way. That was just wishful thinking.

Instinctively, he dismissed the absurd notion. Instead of clinging to false hope, he resolved to apologize sincerely.

At best, he would lose his job alone without dragging others down with him.

Just as the words of apology reached his lips, Anson’s smile broadened, his demeanor unruffled. “Why should I care?”

Cody blinked. “Shouldn’t you care?”

Anson chuckled. “I’m sure plenty of people say bad things about me in places I’ll never hear about. I don’t see why I should let it bother me.”

Cody protested, “But you did hear about it!”

Anson shrugged. “And so what? In Hollywood, everyone showers you with compliments to your face. Should I believe all of it and start floating on air?”

Cody tilted his head, feeling like something wasn’t adding up.

Anson casually shrugged. “Your words can’t hurt me. Neither can your gossip. I’m too strong to be wounded by insignificant people like you. You can’t even reach me.”

“And you? Did my words hurt you?”

His candid response turned the tables, making the staff’s petty grumbles seem trivial and absurd. Everyone froze, stunned—

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go, was it?

Wait, had they just been mocked?

Seeing the bewildered expressions around him, a hint of amusement flickered in Anson’s eyes.

“Ha! Sorry, that was a bit sharp of me.”

“What I mean is, I’m not affected by attacks from strangers. You don’t know me, so your criticisms hold no weight.”

“To avoid any lingering awkwardness when filming wraps, I think I’ll spend the rest of the shoot showing off my personal charm.”

Light-hearted. Witty. Unapologetically confident.

The tension in the air eased effortlessly.

Cody mumbled to himself, at a loss for how to respond, looking momentarily dazed.

Anson’s expression grew even more relaxed. “Apologies for delaying the shoot because of me. But we still have time to catch up, and I hope we can finish on schedule to avoid interfering with your next projects.”

“As for now…”

He paused briefly, scanning the room.

“Morning coffee and afternoon snacks are on me—no limit on variety or budget. Does that bribe win anyone over?”

Self-assured. Straightforward.

Anson didn’t hide his intentions. Instead, he openly offered a “bribe,” displaying a transparency that disarmed everyone.

He didn’t try to justify himself, forcefully protect his image, or intimidate anyone into submission. His approach was entirely different—

Pfft.

Finally, someone couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing.

Then, as if contagious, laughter spread across the room, uncontrollable and genuine.

The atmosphere became oddly cheerful.

Cody stood there, completely dumbfounded. This wasn’t how he had expected things to turn out.

Anson extended his right hand. “If I ask you now to take everyone’s orders and give them to my assistant for delivery, would that count as retaliation?”

Cody couldn’t follow Anson’s thought process. He stood frozen, looking utterly clueless.

Next to him, Noah looked eager to volunteer, but Anson assigned the task to Cody instead, leaving Noah slightly disappointed.

Behind them, others started chiming in.

“Of course it’s retaliation!”

“Definitely retaliation!”

One after another, they joined in, teasing Anson. Yet the atmosphere had entirely shifted.

Cody finally snapped out of it, chuckling. “Fine, call it retaliation—but I’ll accept it. Thank you for giving me a chance to make amends.”

Noah suddenly realized that every move Anson made was intentional. By choosing Cody as the intermediary, Anson used him as a lever to integrate into the crew.

After all, Noah was Anson’s man. If Noah handled things, Anson would still be seen as an outsider. But Cody was one of their own. Letting Cody handle the orders created space for the team to vent and bond internally.

In the end, the conflict dissolved.

Cody relaxed a bit. “So, anything we want? No limits?”

Anson shrugged lightly. “It’s about sincerity. I’ve undoubtedly caused some disruption, and I’m worried the rumors about me in Hollywood won’t be too kind.”

Cody twitched his lips. Anson’s humor was as natural as breathing. “I thought you didn’t care.”

Anson quipped, “My PR team does.”

“Haha!” Roars of laughter erupted.

Clearly, Anson was aware of all their criticisms.

But instead of taking offense, he embraced them—even laughed at himself.

With ease, he turned a crisis into nothing.

Amidst the lively chatter and laughter, the morning complaints and grumbles were long forgotten.

Anson turned back to the bearded man in front of him, smiling warmly. “Good morning. I’m Anson.”

He formally introduced himself, simultaneously asking for the man’s name.

Cody hesitated briefly but felt more at ease. “You’re not doing this to retaliate against me, are you?”

Anson laughed outright. “If I wanted to retaliate, do you think I’d bother asking for your name?”

Cody: …

Anson teased, “Or are you planning to shave off that beard?”

The crew burst into laughter, joining Anson in good-natured teasing.

Cody’s face flushed slightly as he extended his hand to shake Anson’s. “Cody. I’m just a nobody in the crew.”

Anson added, “But still part of the team.”

Cody scratched his head, unsure how to respond. He settled for nodding awkwardly.

Behind him, the crew erupted into playful banter.

“Cody’s blushing!”

“Oh, come on, Cody, I thought you weren’t into men.”

“Cody, oh Cody!”

Watching Anson laugh heartily, Cody turned to chase after his laughing coworkers, flailing dramatically. “Shut up! All of you, shut up!”

*(End of Chapter)*

Chapter 1277: Reasoned Argument

Laughter and joy filled the air, creating a harmonious atmosphere. In less than five minutes, the entire film crew's vibe had transformed completely, leaving a palpable sense of happiness lingering in the air.

Noah wasn’t surprised—Anson seemed to have a magical ability to effortlessly diffuse even the most challenging situations.

What puzzled Noah was why Anson chose to handle things this way. After all, Anson was already a superstar. Why would he spend time and energy addressing the staff's complaints and misunderstandings? These seemed like minor issues unworthy of his concern, let alone an apology.

"Because I was wrong."

Anson’s response stunned Noah, who was left speechless. Anson, however, couldn’t help but laugh at his expression.

"What? You think I don’t make mistakes?"

"Everyone makes mistakes; no one is exempt. If we start believing that someone’s status or fame makes them infallible, Noah, then things could get very dangerous."

"I delayed the filming schedule for recording sessions, made last-minute changes to the shooting timetable—those are undeniable facts. It's also true that I increased the crew's workload for my personal benefit."

"I had the right to make those decisions, and they have every right to grumble behind my back."

"Of course, I don’t regret my choices. I believe I made the right decisions at the right time. But I also don’t mind offering some compensation to keep the atmosphere light, which benefits the work ahead."

"And besides..."

Anson paused, flashing a sly smile.

"I need the crew’s help to keep this under wraps. If word gets out to Hollywood that I delayed filming to record a single, an afternoon tea won’t be enough to smooth things over."

Perspective is key—keeping an eye on the bigger picture.

Anson could have easily silenced the crew with a mix of threats and rewards, ensuring they stayed quiet. However, he couldn’t control their private complaints or gossip.

On the surface, using power to intimidate might quickly solve the problem; but in the long run, it would sow seeds of resentment, leading to unforeseen troubles.

Focusing on short-term gains at the expense of long-term consequences—that would be truly foolish.

With a slight shrug, Anson concluded, "The real issue is that my position isn’t high enough. If I were Tom Hanks or Steven Spielberg, things would be much simpler."

The latter part of Anson’s statement left Noah somewhat baffled, but he didn’t dwell on it. As far as he was concerned, trusting Anson was all that mattered. After all, Lucas said the same thing—there was nothing Anson couldn’t handle.

While the surface remained calm, a brewing storm in the With Song crew had yet to take form before it was quietly defused by Anson’s finesse.

When the morning coffee finally arrived, Cody and the others realized something crucial:

Anson had shown up on set early—earlier than most of the staff. This gesture alone spoke volumes.

It was clear that delaying the filming schedule had genuinely troubled Anson. Arriving early was his way of connecting with the crew and smoothing out any friction.

Whether his early arrival was professionalism or an intentional effort to appease the staff didn’t matter. The fact that someone of Anson’s stature was willing to make such a move to mend rifts was already exceptional—it said more than words ever could.

Moreover, Anson’s form of “appeasement” was impossible to resist.

Inside and out, his actions and words aligned perfectly.

At that moment, the Hollywood rumors surrounding Anson’s professionalism and charisma came flooding back: always bringing humor to the set, creating an enjoyable atmosphere. Initially dismissed as PR exaggerations, these claims now seemed genuine. Consensus wasn’t manufactured—it was earned.

When they came to their senses, everyone found themselves singing Anson’s praises.

Yet goodwill alone couldn’t resolve all issues.

The ripple effects caused by Anson’s unexpected moves, and the subsequent collateral damage, soon surfaced.

---

"I need an explanation."

"No! I understand you’re processing a refund, but... No, I don’t care about your compensation offers. I need an explanation."

"Why?"

"Give me one good reason! I drove all the way here from Dallas—hours of effort, covered in dust—just to visit this museum. I booked my tickets, confirmed the opening times, and followed all the procedures. And now you’re telling me it’s closed today?"

"Jesus Christ, this is absurd!"

"I don’t want compensation. I don’t even want a refund. I just want an explanation."

A man wearing a plaid shirt, jeans, cowboy boots, and a cowboy hat stood before them, his red beard bristling with frustration as he voiced his complaints.

He wasn’t alone.

Behind him, over twenty others had gathered. Some were preparing to leave but paused at the commotion, their disappointed faces turning toward the museum staff, hoping for answers amidst their growing discontent.

Though not a massive crowd, these visitors had come specifically to see the Sun Records Museum. They’d traveled far to witness the legendary recording space where countless top artists had left their mark. The anticipation of experiencing history firsthand made this moment deeply meaningful.

But now, after all their planning, they were met with a cold bucket of reality.

Closure.

A sudden, unannounced closure.

Confusion gave way to anger as frustration boiled over.

Hunt Handford, a man known for his fiery temper, stepped forward, rolling up his sleeves and leading the charge with relentless questioning.

If they couldn’t provide a reasonable explanation, Hunt had no qualms about settling things with his fists.

The murmuring crowd behind him emboldened Hunt, serving as his support as he championed their cause.

"You’ve lost your minds, haven’t you?"

"Do you think we’re pushovers? We’re not some small group! Have you seen the crowd outside? There are far more people eager to see this recording studio than you’d imagine!"

The staff attempted to interrupt and explain, but Hunt refused to give them a chance. He’d seen the lively scene outside when he arrived—throngs of people buzzing with excitement, all drawn to Sun Records.

The museum had no right to brush them off. Without a satisfactory explanation, they wouldn’t let this go.

Hunt even began rallying the crowd, urging others outside to join in.

"Explanation!"

"Explanation!"

Hunt’s voice rang out, his fists raised as he shouted passionately.

Slowly but surely, the voices of over twenty people merged into a scattered but growing chorus.

Creak.

The door behind them opened.

Hunt’s eyes lit up. Their noise must have drawn attention—this was their chance.

He turned toward the new arrival, only to freeze in confusion.

This person’s demeanor was entirely different.

*Chapter 1278: Going with the Flow*

"Explain!"

"Explain!"

A wave of voices surged, rolling like a tide of anger and excitement, crashing forward with the heat of a furnace.

The staff member at the front desperately tried to control the situation and provide an explanation, but the cowboy-hat-wearing man with the red beard, clearly leading the charge, was having none of it. He cut the staff member off, rambling loudly, and the situation rapidly spiraled out of control.

Creak.

The front doors of the museum's lobby swung open again. The staff member groaned inwardly. Things were chaotic enough already—how could more people be coming in now?

The cowboy-hatted man became even more agitated, shouting louder, waving his fists harder, and looking as though the veins in his neck might pop. He seemed ready to charge at any moment.

"Anson?"

A surprised voice called out from the front desk, but the sound was quickly swallowed by the swelling anger in the air. Nobody paid attention to who had entered.

The newcomer, however, moved with agility and precision, cutting through the crowd with ease. Before anyone could react, he had climbed onto the counter, towering over everyone like a giant. In an instant, all eyes turned to him, and the chaos paused briefly.

Taking advantage of the moment, the figure raised his voice and shouted:

"Hey, hands up, and make some noise!"

Hunter: ???

Not just Hunter—everyone was stunned, their faces blank with disbelief. Was this guy... trying to start a concert?

The surprise was so overwhelming that the crowd’s response caught in their throats. For the first time in what felt like forever, the museum lobby was quiet, albeit in an awkward and tense way.

The man casually sat on the counter, letting his legs dangle.

"Hey, I'm Anson Wood, an actor. I'm here to explain things. Even though our team said they'd handle it, I thought it was better for me to clean up my own mess."

"We're shooting a project here in Memphis—a biographical film about Johnny Cash..."

A small pebble dropped into the lake, sending ripples through the crowd. The name "Johnny Cash" clearly struck a chord, as murmurs and rustling spread like wildfire.

Anson smiled, shrugging lightly.

"I know, it's exciting. So, let's focus on that and not get caught up in who’s playing Johnny Cash."

A few chuckles emerged from the crowd.

"Originally, we weren’t supposed to shoot here for another two weeks. You probably know this museum marks the start of Johnny's career, and they graciously agreed to let us film on location."

"Wow!"

Gasps rippled through the audience. Faces lit up with excitement and joy.

"But due to special circumstances, I suggested the crew start shooting here early, capturing the scene of Johnny’s first audition. This disrupted not only the crew’s schedule but also the museum’s plans."

"Believe me, I’ve already been scolded by the crew for being so impulsive and demanding. The last thing I need is more rumors spreading about my ‘diva’ behavior, so I figured I’d come out and explain."

Laughter erupted, breaking the tension further.

Hunter wasn’t immune—

Excited? Nervous? Overjoyed? A kaleidoscope of emotions swirled within him, making it hard to stay composed.

But amid the chaos, Hunter clung to a thread of logic, remembering the main point:

What about them? Did they have to sacrifice their plans for the film crew? All Hunter wanted was to tour the museum. What about his rights?

Frustrated, he looked around. His companions were clearly being swayed. What should he do?

As Hunter searched for a chance to speak, Anson beat him to it.

"I get it. These are unforeseen circumstances that disrupted your plans. It’s definitely not fair."

"So, I thought maybe we could make it up to you in a small way."

"If you’re interested, you can stay and watch the filming. While we can’t guarantee access to the recording studio, you’ll get a chance to see our crew working hard to recreate the atmosphere of that era."

"Really?" Hunter was the first to pump his fist and cheer, drawing curious glances from those around him.

But Hunter didn’t care. His eyes sparkled as he stared at Anson.

"Are you serious? You’ll let us watch Johnny Cash’s recording process?"

Touring the museum relied on guides and imagination to recreate the past. But watching a film being made was entirely different. Even if it was Hollywood magic, they’d witness history being brought to life.

What more could they ask for?

Anson nodded. "As spectators. The view might be limited, but you’ll still have front-row seats."

"Ahhhh!"

Hunter couldn’t contain himself, cheering as he turned to the others.

This was beyond their wildest dreams. What had started as a simple museum visit had turned into something akin to upgrading from economy class to first-class on a flight.

The rest of the crowd finally caught on, their excitement bubbling over. Cheers, laughter, and animated chatter filled the room.

The museum staff at the front desk stared in shock, unable to believe their eyes. Who would’ve thought the situation could be resolved like this?

Not only had the potential fallout been averted, but this also became a PR win.

This story would undoubtedly become a highlight of their trip, one to be shared at gatherings and spread by word of mouth, drawing even more attention to the museum.

Anson casually high-fived the staff member before leaving, as if nothing unusual had happened.

The cowboy-hat-wearing man leaned in, his earlier anger replaced by boundless excitement.

"So, are those people outside part of the crew?"

After receiving confirmation, he grinned from ear to ear.

"That explains all the cameras and equipment. Now it all makes sense!"

The staff member: ...

Was this brilliance or absurdity?

Just then, the museum doors opened again. A burly man entered, his voice booming.

"Hey, everyone ready to watch the crew in action? Follow me!"

---

Chapter 1279: Visionary

Cody raised his right hand high, much like a tour guide leading a group through the Metropolitan Museum of Art, trying to gather the scattered crowd together.

The scene before him grew more absurd the more he thought about it, yet simultaneously more amusing. The deeper he reflected, the more he admired it—

How does Anson manage to pull it off?

Underneath that charming exterior lies a mind brimming with endless creativity, constantly breaking boundaries and shattering conventions, delivering surprises every time.

One moment, a burst of inspiration wreaks havoc, completely derailing the production schedule and leaving the Sun Records Museum scrambling.

It’s chaos. Everyone caught up in the mess groans in frustration, utterly disoriented.

The next moment, with a casual new idea, Anson resolves every issue with ease. What seemed like an impending disaster suddenly becomes a perfectly smooth resolution, almost as if by magic.

...Seriously?

The “Walk the Line” film crew was shooting on Union Avenue, out in broad daylight. Whether the crew liked it or not, onlookers inevitably gathered to watch the street scenes unfold.

Unlike the "Spider-Man" crew, who had the budget to cordon off entire intersections in New York City, this team had negotiated with the Memphis City Hall to close off just one street, leaving the rest open to traffic.

The primary reason wasn’t cost; it was the potential impact on local businesses and residents.

Clearly, Memphis wasn’t used to frequent visits from film crews. Local residents were already vocal about the disruption caused by the shoot. Add to that the sudden two-week advance in the filming schedule, and negotiations were required between the production team, shopkeepers, and nearby residents.

In short, maintaining order on set and ensuring a conducive shooting environment were already part of the crew's responsibilities, and they were busy handling it.

But then Anson, in his own unique way, turned everything around without adding extra workload for the team. He even managed to make the “Walk the Line” crew a welcomed presence among the locals—

It was simple: they recruited extras directly from the crowd.

1. The production followed industry regulations and paid the extras their daily wages.

2. Local residents got a chance to appear in the movie.

3. The most fun part? Since the movie aimed to authentically recreate the 1950s, anyone who could show up in period-appropriate attire had an advantage in being cast.

And so, the celebration began.

It was like a Halloween costume party with a 1950s theme. Memphis locals, who already had a fondness for vintage styles, now had an excuse to enjoy themselves openly. Not only could they earn some cash, but they could also appear in a Hollywood film.

Who could resist?

Meanwhile, tourists visiting the Sun Records Museum, whose plans had been disrupted, became part of the street’s audience, taking up prime spots right in the “rock ‘n’ roll zone.”

Grumbles from the tourists quickly turned to excitement. One by one, they became more thrilled than they’d been about visiting the museum itself.

The atmosphere on set was like a group of middle schoolers experiencing their first field trip—overflowing with enthusiasm.

In just a few minutes, Anson worked his magic. He resolved issues with the locals and shopkeepers, eased tensions with the museum visitors, and restored a lively and cooperative atmosphere to the set.

Everything turned around effortlessly, almost as if by sleight of hand. The situation not only improved but moved in an optimistic, positive direction.

Unbelievable!

Cody couldn’t understand it.

It wasn’t his style. Cody preferred careful planning and methodical execution. Everything needed to be well-organized and accounted for before he could feel at ease.

Anson’s spontaneous, freewheeling approach was entirely alien to him. Cody feared that once things veered off course, they’d spiral out of control.

It wasn’t about criticizing Anson—it was about the way he operated.

Yet, the facts seemed to suggest otherwise:

Sometimes, an unplanned detour could lead to unexpected rewards.

Before he knew it, Cody started feeling a sense of anticipation. How would Anson’s performance turn out? Was there a deeper reason behind his decision to start filming at Sun Records two weeks early?

Wait—hold on.

Was this all part of Anson’s plan? Or was it simply spur-of-the-moment inspiration with no rationale behind it?

So, should Cody be excited or skeptical?

“Excuse me…”

A figure hurried over, standing beside Cody with a curious expression.

“What scene is the crew filming today? Which song is Johnny recording?”

Cody looked at the man, bewildered. The cowboy-hat-wearing, red-bearded man grinned widely, extending his hand enthusiastically.

“Hunter,” he introduced himself.

“I’m sure you Hollywood folks did your research—you’re professionals. You must know what you’re doing.”

Hunter’s excitement bubbled over. “But I’m a diehard Johnny Cash fan. I know everything about him—what songs he recorded at Sun Records and what he didn’t. I even know the behind-the-scenes stories from his recording sessions. Trust me, I might know Johnny better than he knows himself.”

Cody could see the uncontainable sparkle in Hunter’s eyes, like a child meeting their hero.

Initially, Cody wanted to shut him down. Film crews hated self-proclaimed experts who came in, acting like they knew more than the professionals.

But then he remembered something Anson had said:

“Maybe we can ride the wave. Let the public spread behind-the-scenes stories and anecdotes for us.”

Cody didn’t understand how that would help. The audience was too small to generate real buzz.

Anson had replied, “It’s about planting seeds. Building a narrative. We need patience; the impact will come naturally. What we’re creating is an impression—a first impression that sticks.”

“Professional, approachable, friendly, and fun. That’s the image of our crew. Do you know what role that kind of impression plays during awards season?”

Cody had been left speechless.

If he weren’t witnessing it himself, he might’ve thought this whole thing was a carefully orchestrated PR stunt by Anson’s team.

Now, the scene unfolded right before his eyes.

Taking a deep breath, Cody changed his approach.

“No, it’s not a recording session. It’s an audition. We’re shooting in sequence—this is Johnny’s first visit to Sun Records.”

Sure enough, that one sentence sent Hunter into an ecstatic frenzy. “Oh, the young and green Johnny Cash! What a memory to cherish…”

Hunter went on and on, unable to stop himself.

---

Chapter 1280: Restless

Chaos. Clamor. Noise.

The film set was bustling, disorderly, and maddeningly chaotic, making it impossible to calm down and focus.

The idea was beautiful; but reality often brings challenges.

Although Anson's idea successfully addressed the chaos caused by the changes in the production plan, the disruption had already taken root. Despite orders being issued, overcoming the hurdles between execution and effectiveness required effort.

The scene was a complete mess.

Clearly, things were not so simple.

At this point, James Keach's shortcomings as a producer became evident. His lack of on-the-spot experience, overall management skills, and personnel coordination left him standing helpless in front of the mess, unsure where to start.

Then Lucas stepped in.

Originally, Lucas had come to Memphis purely to learn and gain experience.

He knew nothing about filmmaking; his knowledge of the craft was almost nonexistent. However, if Forest Pictures hoped to establish itself in Hollywood, he at least needed to understand how a film crew operated.

Now, faced with the chaos in front of him, Lucas could no longer stay idle.

True, Lucas was clueless about filmmaking. But managing a team, organizing tasks, and taking control of a situation? For Lucas, that was as natural as breathing.

One team of staff members was assigned to handle the extras. Based on the shooting schedule, the extras' first scene wouldn't be needed until 3:00 p.m.

So for now, all the extras needed to do was sign in and wait until lunchtime.

During this waiting period, the signed-in extras would present their prepared 1950s-era outfits to the costume department to ensure they met the requirements.

Another team of staff was tasked with maintaining order on set. They made sure wandering "amateurs" found their way back to designated areas, keeping the filming site clear and organized.

It was like tidying up a messy room—restoring order and structure.

A third team managed the spectators, including museum visitors, ensuring they were separated from the extras and guided to designated viewing areas. This way, they wouldn’t aimlessly wander and disrupt the set.

Professionalism.

That was the key word for the production. Only those with clearly defined roles should be freely moving around the set; everyone else needed to stay in their assigned areas to avoid disturbing the workflow.

In just a few steps, the street resumed normal operations. Crowds and formations fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. The view cleared, the buzzing and chatter faded to a manageable level, and the production team finally appeared ready to begin filming.

Undoubtedly, all of this was new.

Previously, Anson had worked on independent, low-budget films like The Butterfly Effect, Elephant, and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. None of those productions had faced such situations.

So, was this because of Anson?

If Anson hadn’t been so willful and unpredictable, if everything had proceeded according to plan, would the crew have avoided this chaos?

Lucas didn't think so.

Anson’s actions were unexpected, but he had done everything within his power to control the situation. Blaming him for being reckless was unfair.

Besides, even if it were Anson’s fault, such issues were common in Hollywood: temperamental stars, conflicts between lead actors, clashes between directors and actors—the film industry wasn’t so different from any other project-based work.

Unexpected incidents were inevitable.

The real challenge lay in problem-solving.

Lucas believed there was no need to criticize Keach’s ineffectiveness.

In his eyes, the core issue was Forest Pictures' lack of experience.

With no prior expertise or accumulated knowledge, and no trusted team of their own, they were assembling a makeshift crew on the fly. When problems arose, they didn’t know how to respond, and the hidden disorder behind the crisis exploded.

This was the root cause.

When problems occur, most people focus on the issues themselves. Only a few focus on solutions. Since problems are inevitable, finding solutions is the real key.

Lucas cut through the noise and identified the heart of the matter.

Problems weren't scary—they still had time and opportunities to experiment and learn. Anson was doing everything he could to help.

Lucas believed Forest Pictures would find its footing.

The chaos lasted for half an hour, but eventually, the situation stabilized. Lucas took control and brought the crew back on track.

However, the lingering tension in the air continued to resonate.

Dallas Roberts was visibly agitated.

The atmosphere on set… was a mess.

He knew the chaos on set was just an excuse. His real concern was the upcoming shoot. Still, the noise and crowding made it impossible for him to focus on preparing for his scenes.

In the film, Dallas played Sam Phillips, the owner of Sun Records, who discovered Elvis Presley and Johnny Cash, among others.

This wasn’t Dallas’s first acting role, but it was his debut in a feature film.

After years of working in television, he had yet to break through. Though Walk the Line didn’t seem like a major project, the presence of Anson and Reese made it different. Plus, his role was significant—a career breakthrough.

Dallas was both nervous and excited.

Then the unexpected happened—

Originally, he wasn’t scheduled to film for another two weeks, giving him plenty of time to prepare. He had planned to observe the crew, gain experience, and build rapport with Anson and the other actors. By the time his scenes came up, he would be ready.

Instead, he received notice yesterday that his scenes were being moved up to today.

Dallas froze.

Tomorrow? In less than 12 hours?

What if he forgot his lines? What if he froze in front of the camera? What if Anson disliked his performance and replaced him?

Dallas wanted to crawl into a hole.

He spent a sleepless night tossing and turning, arriving on set with dark circles under his eyes. His terrible condition made the makeup artist gasp.

Dallas had a bad feeling. He feared today’s shoot would be a disaster.

Then he saw the chaos on set, and his despair deepened. Torn between anxiety and nerves, he began biting his nails.

What should I do? What should I do, what should I do?

He was about to ruin the best opportunity of his career. If his first chance became his last, his dream of making it in films would shatter.

“Hey, Dallas!”

A voice startled him so badly he nearly fell over.

(End of Chapter)