1226-1230

Chapter 1226: Missing Persons

Dan Higgins had been trying hard to calm himself down, but clearly, it wasn't easy.

This is live.

And not just any live broadcast—this is the *Grammy Awards live broadcast!*

What are they doing?

When Anson told the CBS live production team that they needed a room for practice, the show's live director thought they had misheard—

Practice? Wasn’t the band’s rehearsal enough? Is it really okay to cram now? What about the live broadcast of the awards show?

Setting aside other issues, what if the audience seating at the Staples Center is left with empty spots?

Tonight, Anson and the August 31st band are the center of attention. The Recording Academy is boldly challenging the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, with the ultimate goal of creating buzz, emphasizing Anson’s presence, and drawing attention to the Grammy Awards to boost ratings.

Naturally, the production team gave August 31st prominent seating to ensure the cameras could capture them throughout the event.

And now, Anson says he needs a practice room and will skip the awards ceremony seating?

What the heck is this!

This is the Grammys, not the VMAs or the Teen Choice Awards—this isn’t a circus!

These are professionals; everything is organized and regulated. Months of rehearsal cannot simply be brushed aside like this.

Absurd. Ridiculous. Outrageously selfish!

And yet—

No one knows what Anson said to the show’s director. The two had a quiet conversation for five minutes, and somehow, the director was persuaded.

Somehow!

As a result, Dan Higgins, an assistant stage manager, was reassigned to oversee August 31st, making sure they stayed on schedule for the broadcast.

The job of a stage manager is to coordinate the smooth operation of the awards show, liaising with presenters, performers, and others to ensure the event runs in order. They also coordinate with technical teams to keep everything in sync with the live broadcast.

Most importantly, they handle emergencies to ensure the awards show stays on track.

As an assistant stage manager, Higgins had been rushing around the Staples Center all day, dealing with various unexpected situations. But this?

Even with all his preparation, Higgins was baffled.

Who am I, where am I, and what am I even doing right now?  

Especially when August 31st started rehearsing a brand-new song, Higgins was completely dumbfounded. He was absolutely certain this song wasn’t on their Midnight of Summer album.

So, what on earth is happening here?

Higgins was at a loss.

Then, the awards show began—

With Anson and August 31st nowhere to be seen.

CBS figured that as long as the live broadcast avoided close-ups or zoom-ins and stuck to wide shots, neither the audience nor the guests would notice anything amiss.

After all, with the Staples Center packed with stars and so many seats, people might assume they simply missed spotting Anson.

But they were wrong.

Because the Grammys stood in stark contrast to the Oscars, Anson’s attendance as a guest was highly anticipated.

Moreover, his red carpet look had been stunning, spreading like wildfire in a short period. Audiences who missed the red carpet were eagerly searching for Anson and August 31st during the ceremony.

And then—

Nothing.

At first, the guests at the Staples Center noticed the anomaly. The focal point of the evening had vanished. No one had seen them after the red carpet. Rumors and speculations spread like wildfire, showing Hollywood’s penchant for gossip in full force.

Outlandish theories abounded:

Anson had thrown a diva tantrum, fought with CBS staff, and stormed out of the Staples Center.

Band members were furious that Anson had hogged the spotlight on the red carpet, leading to a backstage brawl.

Anson’s multiple girlfriends had discovered his infidelity at the Staples Center, resulting in a dramatic confrontation.

The gossip grew wilder and more ridiculous, unstoppable.

The most amusing part? People told these stories with such conviction, as if they truly believed them.

Meanwhile, viewers at home also noticed. Unaware of the behind-the-scenes chaos, they were baffled by the lack of Anson on-screen. They began calling CBS’s live hotline to complain—

“Where’s Anson?”

Many viewers had tuned in specifically to see him, only to be met with zero close-ups. Was this some kind of Grammy scam?

What the hell!

Chaos erupted.

News spread like wildfire.

In Hollywood’s fame-obsessed world, good news travels slowly, but bad news? Instantly. In less than 30 minutes, the unexpected situation at the Grammys was already all over Hollywood.

Everyone was gossiping and watching the drama unfold.

Executives at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, upon hearing the news, were practically giddy, gasping in excitement.

The Grammys were on the verge of a disaster?

Anson had caused a scandal?

They knew it! The Recording Academy had it coming. They sat back, ready to enjoy the show.

Beneath the calm surface, a storm was brewing.

Initially, the Grammys didn’t command such attention. Among Hollywood award shows, it trailed the Oscars and even the Golden Globes, barely keeping up with the Emmys. But this year, all eyes were on them.

On the surface, everything appeared fine. Festivities began as the Grammy Awards opened in grand style.

Beyoncé and Jay-Z delivered the opening performance, dazzling the audience with a ten-minute extravaganza inspired by the visual style of Moulin Rouge. Beyoncé, finally in her element as a solo artist, gave a 120% performance, earning a standing ovation.

The energy soared.

One award after another was presented, and the performances continued—

A Beatles tribute for their 40th anniversary, Justin Timberlake, the Black Eyed Peas, and the Foo Fighters all delivered sensational acts.

Unlike other award shows, the Grammys are a giant party. Performances seamlessly link the ceremony, bringing joy to audiences worldwide.

It’s all about fun—just enjoy it.

Amid the celebratory atmosphere, a message reached Higgins.

He burst into the practice room, throwing open the door.

“Guys, we’ve got an emergency!”

(To be continued.)

Chapter 1227: A Small Surprise

The Staples Center erupted in a frenzy, resembling an endlessly erupting volcano. One breathtaking performance followed another, leaving no room to catch a breath.

However, in a practice room tucked away in a corner of the arena, a completely different scene unfolded.

Focused, engrossed, and immersed, the members of the August 31st Band were deep in rehearsal, as if existing in a parallel universe.

Not just Anson, but Miles, Connor, and Lily were all bursting with energy.

At this moment, there was no time for nerves. They had momentarily forgotten they were at the Grammy Awards, focusing entirely on the rehearsal and their coordination.

Bang!

Suddenly, Dan Higgins slammed the practice room door open. His face was filled with urgency as he shouted at Anson.

“Guys, we’ve got an emergency!”

The music stopped abruptly, and all eyes turned to Higgins in shock and confusion.

Higgins wasted no time explaining. He grabbed the remote control and switched on the TV.

The CBS live broadcast had already shifted to footage from the big screen at the ceremony, showing the nominees for a category.

Best Alternative Album!

Ah, that explained it.

There was no need for further clarification. It clicked instantly—this was one of the awards the August 31st Band was nominated for. Typically, the live feed would cut to the nominees' reactions at this moment, capturing their faces when the winner was announced.

But with no cameras in the practice room, the director on-site couldn't show the band’s expressions. Nevertheless, the band needed to be ready.

What if August 31st won?

Higgins’s heart raced, but he had no time for panic. His focus was glued to the TV screen.

The footage paused on the last nominee’s clip.

It was the August 31st Band.

The practice room buzzed as the band members exchanged high-fives. The moment felt real now.

Nominees for Best Alternative Album: The White Stripes, Radiohead, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Sigur Rós, and August 31st Band.

Alternative indeed.

The nominees made it clear—these were all bands that infused rock with unique styles and elements, showcasing distinctive musical identities. Each nominee was unparalleled in their artistry.

In a way, the competition for Best Alternative Album was fiercer than for the Rock category.

To the band, the nomination itself was a victory.

They had dared to merge classical instruments with pop music, in the notoriously rebellious rock genre, showcasing the pure harmony and resonance of instruments. They never expected this experimental music to be noticed, let alone earn a Grammy nomination.

It had been a long and grueling journey that brought them to this moment.

Then, a voice came from the TV.

“…and the winner is—Midnight in Summer, August 31st Band.”

“Oh yeah, congratulations!”

Perfect. The award had been acknowledged. Time to return to rehearsal.

The drumbeat resumed.

Higgins: “???”

Something felt wrong.

“Hey! It’s us—it’s us!”

Higgins’s eyes widened. Nearly choking on his words, he waved frantically.

“Go, go, go, GO!”

He gestured urgently, shouting as he ran.

The band, still caught off guard, barely grasped the situation but instinctively rushed out of the room in a chaotic frenzy. Wait—who? Did they just say August 31st? Did they win a Grammy?

Their minds swirled with confusion, unable to process it. They simply ran, stumbling and scrambling.

Higgins followed closely behind, his voice cutting through the commotion like a clarion call.

“Move it! Move it!”

Despite the chaos, Higgins’s professional instincts kicked in. Amid the disarray, he anchored the situation, his commanding voice leading the way.

The backstage corridors, bustling with activity, cleared like the Red Sea parting for Moses. A wave of commotion swept through as they sprinted towards the stage.

Meanwhile, at the front of the stage, the scene was entirely different.

The audience fell silent.

Under the spotlight, presenters John Mayer and Matthew Perry looked flustered, scanning the area—

Still no sign of the August 31st Band.

What now?

The Staples Center buzzed with confusion, everyone exchanging glances.

Typically, if the winners were absent, the organizers would have a backup plan, with someone else accepting the award to avoid awkwardness.

Yet nothing like that happened this time.

This confirmed it—August 31st Band had a mishap. Maybe they’d even left the Staples Center, causing an unforeseen issue that caught CBS off guard.

Now, it looked like a live-broadcast disaster. The Grammys were about to become a laughingstock.

In the midst of the chaos, Matthew Perry channeled his comedic prowess.

In his Friends character Chandler Bing’s trademark tone—dragging out the words with a mix of awkwardness and humor—he called out:

“August… Thirty… First…”

At the same time, he gestured subtly for the audience to clap.

His exaggerated, pleading expression brought the room to laughter, and applause broke out once again.

Everyone was ready to watch the spectacle.

Outside the Staples Center, the plaza was packed with a dense crowd of spectators. Though they couldn’t enter the venue, they stayed to witness the ceremony unfold live on the giant screen.

Among them were Gloria and Archie.

Archie couldn’t contain his worry, fretting over whether Anson and the band were in trouble. He tried to reason with himself, but his racing heart defied logic.

Then, suddenly—

Bang!

A figure burst onto the stage from the side, breaking free of all constraints. The audience gasped.

One, two, three, four—they emerged one after another.

Matthew turned, his grin widening. With heightened cheer, he announced, “August 31st!”

Cheers erupted.

The entire Staples Center watched, wide-eyed and incredulous, as the August 31st Band made a dazzling entrance—like a magician pulling off an impossible trick.

Anson hadn’t left?

What was going on?

What had just happened tonight?

Archie jumped to his feet, pumping his fist in silent celebration.

Anson—it was Anson!

Gloria raised her arms high, her face glowing with joy as she looked at Archie. They both silently screamed their excitement as the entire plaza exploded with cheers.

On stage, under the spotlight, sweat glistened on Anson’s forehead. His radiant smile ignited the Staples Center’s fervor.

A wave of indescribable euphoria and exhilaration surged, breaking free after a long buildup of tension, doubts, and jokes, sweeping across the venue with unstoppable energy.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter 1228: Believing in Music

*Rip.*

Breaking through the darkness and stepping into a cascade of golden light, the entire world suddenly erupted with an unbelievable surge of energy, spinning at dizzying speed.

It felt like Alice tumbling into the rabbit hole—a surreal kaleidoscope of colors and scenes pouring down in a deluge.

Dazzling. Overwhelming. The clamor and heat continued to pulse and surge.

Clearly, this was something Anson hadn’t anticipated.

The Grammys?

It sounded like an entirely different world—a distant, unfamiliar universe. Tonight, he had come to participate, to sightsee, to enjoy, and to take a chance.

But now?

Lifting his head, Anson found himself staring at Matthew Perry’s beaming face.

After Friends, it had been a long time since they’d last met. To reunite here, of all places, made everything feel even less real.

Indeed, in Hollywood, magic was always just around the corner.

Taking large strides forward, Anson embraced Matthew, laughing as he teased, “Are you sure?”

Matthew gave Anson’s back a hearty pat. “You’d better believe it. It’s happening. Congratulations! Congratulations!”

Anson was still dazed, as if it were all a dream. “I still think this is one of your pranks.”

Matthew spread his arms wide. “Chandler Bing wouldn’t have the guts.”

The two exchanged a glance and burst into laughter.

Matthew stepped aside, and John Mayer moved forward, holding a golden gramophone trophy. He extended it to Anson, awkwardly muttering, “Congratulations.”

In Anson’s hands, it was heavier than he’d imagined.

Surprised, Anson examined it closely. It was a golden trophy shaped like a vintage gramophone, its soft glow flowing along its sleek curves, as if you could feel music shimmering in its timeless elegance.

Unbidden, excitement coursed through his veins.

Shock. Pure shock. Even as he held the weight of the trophy, it still didn’t feel real.

Anson turned to his bandmates, extending the trophy toward Connor.

To his surprise, Connor took half a step back, as if the trophy were a wild beast. His eyes locked on it, quietly scrutinizing it, still trying to make sense of what had just happened.

Anson: ?

He chuckled, shaking his head.

He turned to Lily next. Lily didn’t refuse. She carefully took the trophy into her hands, studying it intently, only to quickly hand it to Miles. Her eyes sparkled with exhilaration, joy, emotion, and happiness, but there was also a flicker of unease—like she feared it might all be a dream. She stepped back slightly.

When Miles looked up, he realized the three had all stepped aside, leaving him closest to the microphone.

Miles: …

His first instinct was to hand the trophy back to Anson. He knew people were expecting to hear Anson’s acceptance speech. But when he caught Anson’s encouraging gaze, Miles hesitated for a moment before stepping forward toward the microphone.

Lily blinked, calling out, “Miles.” She turned to Anson, her eyes asking: Shouldn’t you be giving the speech?

From every angle, Anson was the obvious choice to represent the band at this moment. No one—not the audience nor the band members—had expected anyone else.

So, what was Miles doing?

To everyone’s surprise, Anson simply flashed a big smile at Lily, his face serene and content as he turned his gaze back to Miles.

Honestly, Anson hadn’t expected August 31st to win an award tonight. To him, his thoughts and emotions were already hidden in the performance itself—that was his true speech, carrying far more power than any words could.

As for now?

Anson had already said plenty. Why not let Miles and the others have their moment?

Up at the microphone, Miles took a deep breath, gathering his courage.

“I have a dream…”

The opening line drew immediate laughter from the Staples Center crowd—

Was he quoting Martin Luther King Jr.’s iconic speech?

Miles, a beat late, caught on and couldn’t help but smirk.

“Oh, sorry. Not that grand.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd, but Miles remained focused and earnest.

“It all started with a simple hope: that people might come to appreciate the beauty of the cello. That’s it.”

“But, of course, it wasn’t that simple. We faced setbacks. We hit rock bottom. We were ready to give up. One afternoon, while wandering the bustling streets of Manhattan, broken and on the verge of walking away for good, Anson appeared.”

“Yes, I know—he swooped in like some mythical hero riding on a rainbow to save the day, playing a song with us.”

The Staples Center fell silent. Only Miles’ voice could be heard, interspersed with lighthearted chuckles from the audience, who were careful not to interrupt his story.

He spoke with such focus and sincerity that his slightly trembling voice carried an unmistakable power from deep within.

“Anson found a small but profound connection between classical and pop music. He bridged the gap with his soul, bringing us back to the essence, back to the melody, letting us sing with our hearts and rediscover music’s magic.”

“And then, the magic happened.”

This was why Miles had stepped forward—

They owed Anson a thank-you.

But it wasn’t just a simple “thanks.” The emotions went far beyond what that word could convey. If he didn’t seize this moment, Miles wasn’t sure he’d ever have the courage to say it or the ability to express it properly.

His voice trembled, but he didn’t falter.

“Tonight, here we are. From the streets of Manhattan to the Staples Center in Los Angeles. From the brink of despair to this stage at the Grammys. We’ve had our own little dreamlike moment.”

“Maybe we’re still outliers. But music is music. No matter how niche or unconventional, it’s the voice of passion, the sound of the soul.”

“I want to keep believing in music the way I believe in dreams.”

“And maybe, just maybe, we can all enjoy being outliers.”

“Thank you. And…” The words swelled in his chest, a flood of emotions he couldn’t fully articulate. After an awkward pause, he simply repeated, “Thank you.”

His honesty, humility, and passion shone through.

Miles took a deep breath, but the emotions crashing through him were too strong to contain. In that brief instant, it all poured out, leaving him hurriedly bowing his head to hide his vulnerability.

The next moment, the room erupted in applause—

Clap, clap, clap, clap.  

The sound swelled, growing louder and louder, until it became a thunderous roar that filled the arena.

Miles turned back toward his bandmates, intending to check if they wanted to speak. To his surprise, Anson was the first to start clapping, his eyes bright and his smile radiant, igniting the Staples Center’s fervor.

Unconsciously, Miles’ smile bloomed through his tears, glowing with joy.

(End of Chapter)  

*Chapter 1229: Lost in a Cloud of Mystery*

Over the past five to six years, the music market has been increasingly unified. Genres like rap, dance, and pop have dominated the scene with overwhelming force, squeezing out the breathing room for other styles. Folk, jazz, bluegrass, and soul have been the obvious casualties, but now even rock has fallen into decline.

Everyone laments: rock is dead.

It was against this backdrop that last year’s Grammy Awards gave all four major general-category awards to Norah Jones. It was nothing short of a feat, earning thunderous applause.

Yet even the Grammys have been seeking balance amidst the tidal wave of market trends. Over the years, the awards have been streamlined—shorter ceremonies, fewer categories. Once a treasure trove of hidden gems, Grammy nominations now rarely deliver those moments of revelation.

The space for niche and independent music continues to shrink.

Worse still, musicians are losing their faith and hope. Many are pivoting to mainstream genres like pop or dance, while others are left behind entirely.

What was once a vibrant, diverse musical landscape is losing its edge, and the spirit of artistic exploration and innovation is withering.

And yet tonight, the band August 31st emerged as a dark horse, winning the Best Alternative Album award and making their presence known. Miles’ passionate, fiery acceptance speech reignited a sense of purpose for the creators in the room.

As Miles put it, believing in music and believing in dreams is the only way they find meaning in life—setting their souls ablaze to kindle hope.

The roaring applause seemed endless.

Even after the band left the stage, the electric energy lingered at the Staples Center. Cheers and whistles kept building, wave after wave.

Finally, the award ceremony moved on without incident. Higgins let out a long sigh of relief, though his heart was still racing in his chest.

He looked up to see Anson and the others exchanging glances. A collective sigh of disbelief swept through them, and then they burst into laughter.

Even now, they still felt like they were in a daze, unable to fully grasp what had just happened.

After their hearty laughter, they glanced at each other. Connor couldn’t help but ask,

"Did we… really win?"

His voice was filled with doubt and amazement, which gave the moment a touch of humor.

Miles raised the gramophone-shaped trophy in his hand. “It seems we did. Let’s just hope they didn’t make a mistake.”

Then he turned to Anson, a hint of embarrassment crossing his face.

"Sorry, I thought everyone would have a chance to give an acceptance speech…"

He hadn’t expected the ceremony to rush them offstage so quickly that Anson didn’t get the chance to speak.

Anson laughed heartily. “I liked your speech. Did you prepare it in advance?”

Miles shyly shook his head. “No.”

Anson grinned. “I figured. But that’s exactly why it was so powerful—straight from the heart. It beats those thank-you-list speeches any day.”

Miles scratched his head. “Anson…”

Lily nudged Miles’ shoulder playfully. “We get it, we get it. You’re especially thankful to Anson. Connor and I didn’t even get a mention.”

It was clearly a joke.

Miles’ face turned crimson as he stammered, struggling to find the right words.

Seeing his expression, Anson and Lily burst out laughing.

Connor slung an arm around Miles’ shoulders. “They’re messing with you, idiot.”

Once again, laughter erupted among them.

Anson was particularly happy—not because Miles had thanked him but because, after their separate paths in Europe, they were still friends.

In just three years in Hollywood, Anson had experienced the chaos of fame and fortune.

There was Hayden Christensen, whose situation remained a mystery to this day. There were people like Brad Renfro and Jake Gyllenhaal, constantly struggling with the push and pull of success.

But there were also people like Miles, Lily, and Connor. They had faced setbacks and temptations, yet through all the ups and downs, they stayed true to themselves. While they yearned for success, their love for music and their dreams never wavered.

People often say that the harshness of reality and the allure of self-interest force everyone to compromise. “That’s just how the world works,” they claim, using it as an excuse to betray their own souls.

But it’s precisely because life is so harsh that staying true to yourself and making your own choices is what defines us.

Anson felt incredibly lucky that, on that Manhattan afternoon, he had stepped toward this group of friends.

Even if they took separate paths, it didn’t mean they stopped being friends.

And for that reason, tonight deserved a perfect ending.

“Hey, we don’t have time to waste. You don’t want to screw up the performance later, do you?”

Anson flashed a big grin to remind them. The three of them instantly panicked.

“Practice! Practice!”

“How could we forget? Connor, you need to step it up!”

“I know, I know! We’re running out of time. Let’s go!”

“Dan, how much time do we have left?”

“Stop asking! Let’s focus on practicing and make the most of it.”

Despite the chaos and nerves, no one complained or gave up. When Anson pitched a crazy idea, they all jumped in wholeheartedly, working together and diving into the music with unwavering focus.

Higgins watched the band members sprint back to the rehearsal room, dumbfounded. His brain couldn’t keep up with what he was seeing.

The time to celebrate their Grammy win was so brief they didn’t even light a cigarette before they were eagerly returning to their craft.

That passion was both dazzling and captivating.

Without realizing it, Higgins felt a twinge of envy. In a world driven by fame and fortune, there was still room for purity. Not everyone succumbed to the darkness; there were still those who held on to their dreams. A rush of emotions stirred within him.

Finally, Higgins began to understand what Anson and his band were trying to do.

After their brief appearance on stage, August 31st seemed to vanish again. Guests at the Staples Center looked around for them, exchanging puzzled glances. Something was clearly up.

Outside the arena, Gloria had also noticed something.

“Are Anson and the others planning something?”

Archie gave her a quizzical look.

Gloria explained, “Anson always has wild ideas, constantly surprising everyone. I think that’s happening again. They’re nowhere to be found, and the cameras aren’t showing them at their seats. So…”

Archie still didn’t know what to expect, but a spark of excitement flickered in his eyes. A sense of anticipation, impossible to put into words, began to rise.

To be continued.  

*Chapter 1230: Interrupting the Practice*

There was still no sign of Anson and the August 31st Band.

Now, even the audience watching from home sensed something was off. Yet no one knew what had happened. Speculations swirled in an atmosphere thick with anticipation. Excitement and curiosity spread inside and outside the Staples Center like wildfire.

However, Higgins didn’t have time to ponder. He focused all his attention on the television screen, his eyes fixed on the envelope in Quentin Tarantino’s hand—

"...August 31st Band!"

Christina Aguilera's voice echoed from the microphone.

An eruption followed.

Higgins let out a shout, as if firing the starter pistol for an Olympic sprint.

"Go!"

Reluctantly, Higgins interrupted the August 31st Band's practice again. They had to go on stage to receive their second award of the night: Best Rock Group.  

For their second Grammy nomination tonight, the August 31st Band triumphed over Radiohead, Train, Foo Fighters, and Bruce Springsteen with Warren Zevon, claiming their second trophy.

The band’s practice session was cut short once more.

"We’re doomed, Connor. You're bound to mess up on stage," someone teased.

"Lily, stop jinxing it! We still have time, okay? The focus now is—we won another award! Can you believe it? It’s happening a second time!"

"Connor! Watch out!"

Amid the playful banter and raucous laughter, Anson and his bandmates sprinted through the backstage corridors. The hustle and bustle of the area was drowned in their joyous shouts and laughter.

From the rear, Higgins hollered, "Move, move, move!"

A series of “GO! GO! GO!” echoed like a chant, opening the way for the band.

The backstage dancers, crew, and even other award show guests parted to the sides of the hallway, their faces lighting up as they watched the August 31st Band barrel through. It was as if they were witnessing the vibrant hues of youth boldly bursting into bloom.

Having been through this before, everyone now understood the significance of the moment.

The crowd joined in, clapping and cheering loudly.

"Go! Go! Go!"

Anson was the first to raise his hands, exchanging high-fives with those lining the hallway. Soon, a wave of raised hands joined in.

"Haha, we won! We actually won!"

The sheer, unadulterated joy exploded from their hearts.

It was like their days busking on European streets—no burdens, no expectations, no worries. Life was about music, and only music.

That happiness was contagious.

As they sprinted toward the stage, Higgins’ chest heaved with exertion, feeling as if it might burst. He skidded to a halt at the side stage, watching the four band members stride into the dazzling light. He couldn’t help but grin, laughter bubbling up uncontrollably.

Anson could hardly believe his eyes. Was that Quentin—the Quentin Tarantino? Was this the Grammys or the Oscars?

In an effort to create buzz, this year’s Grammy presenters were all paired teams of actors and singers. When viewers tuned in, it was enough to make everyone do a double take.

Quentin laughed heartily and gave Anson a big hug. "Congratulations, congrats!"

Anson didn’t hide his astonishment. "I never expected to see you here."

Quentin patted Anson’s back. "Here’s hoping we meet again in a different setting someday."

Anson shook his head solemnly. "I’m too expensive for you now—you can’t afford me."

Quentin roared with laughter.

Standing nearby, Christina awkwardly held the Grammy trophy, attempting to hand it to Anson but failing to find an opening.

Luckily, Lily stepped in to smooth things over, graciously accepting the trophy from Christina.

Christina exhaled in relief and hugged Lily. "Thank God! I thought no one wanted this award anymore."

Lily laughed along.

She turned to hand the trophy to Anson, but he and Miles stepped aside, and Connor even ducked behind them. Anson gestured for Lily to step forward and give the acceptance speech.

With a mix of exasperation and amusement, Lily looked down at the trophy in her hands, as if it were a hot potato. A flood of emotions overwhelmed her. Who could have imagined that they had been so close to giving up on their musical dreams, only to find themselves on the Grammy stage?

Lily refused to dwell on sentimental thoughts. A radiant smile spread across her face.

She turned to face the audience. Her chest still heaved, her breath burned, and she could feel beads of sweat rolling down her skin.

Raising her hands high, Lily declared, "We won!"

Cheers erupted!

Her unrestrained smile reverberated through the Staples Center, filling every corner with warmth. It was neither pretentious nor subdued, instantly drawing laughter from the crowd.

"I once stood in the bathroom of my crummy Brooklyn apartment, holding a bottle of shampoo like a microphone, imagining this exact moment. I’d picture myself confidently thanking all the people who doubted me, while my roommate banged on the door, complaining I was hogging the bathroom."

The audience burst into laughter.

Lily didn’t hold back her own smile.

"But standing here now, I don’t want to thank those who doubted me. I want to speak directly to every dreamer watching this awards show."

"Keep believing in your dreams. Stay weird. Don’t let the haters knock you down, because life is full of endless possibilities."

"Maybe tomorrow, you’ll meet someone like Anson Wood, who will encourage you to dream. And maybe a year from now, it’ll be your turn to stand on this stage and pass on the seeds of hope and possibility."

Applause thundered across the venue.

Anson became the center of the crowd’s amused and admiring gazes. Many stood to give a standing ovation, laughter and cheers filling the air.

Sincere yet humorous, enthusiastic yet heartfelt.

Lily poured all the heat and passion from her chest into her speech, her hands raising the trophy high at the end.

The crowd erupted once again, their applause like a tidal wave of excitement and celebration.

Outside in the plaza, Archie couldn’t contain himself. He jumped and waved his hands wildly, dancing in joy.

It was a moment of overwhelming emotion—tears threatened to spill, but they turned into dazzling smiles, unabashedly spreading across their faces.

They laughed and cried, shouted and jumped, like fools.

But who could resist?

Who doesn’t love music? Who wouldn’t support a dream? Who wouldn’t cheer for the August 31st Band? Who could turn away from a night when dreams come true?

Together, they danced, sang, and let themselves go in the magic of the moment.

(End of Chapter)