1096-1100

*Chapter 1096: Just Right*

*A Biography?*

Anson was momentarily stunned before he realized—

“Catch Me If You Can! The game of cat and mouse!”

“Frank Abagnale was different. The real-life person always hid himself, refusing to appear publicly, so he allowed me to create the character based on my imagination. The general public didn’t have a fixed image of him.”

“Plus, when Steven was directing, he consciously added absurdity and humor, giving the story and characters a candy-colored, unreal quality. It left space for imagination and freedom in performance.”

“But Johnny Cash is a completely different story, a standard biographical film.”

Lucas half-understood, gently raising his chin, his eyes focused on Anson. “So, you’re saying this is a challenge?”

Anson pressed his lips together. “Yes, a major challenge.”

Lucas nodded, “Then you should take it.”

Anson looked puzzled, “Huh? Did you not hear what I just said?”

Lucas replied calmly, “I did. But that’s exactly why you should take the role.”

“You’ve said it yourself—what makes acting fun is facing new challenges, the unpredictability of each day.”

“If you’re tired of risks and want to settle into a routine job, there are countless options for that. No need to complicate things here.”

“As for the script—"

“If it can be improved, great! If not, that’s fine too. Someone once said, ‘What actor hasn’t been in at least one bad movie?’”

“And besides, no matter how bad it is, could it really be worse than The Princess Diaries?”

Anson couldn’t hold back and burst into laughter, protesting loudly.

“Hey! Don’t say that about The Princess Diaries! That was my breakout role!”

Lucas remained expressionless, “Are you sure it’s not just a black mark on your record?”

Anson laughed out loud, “A proud black mark! Facing the harshness of life head-on!”

After a brief pause, Anson reflected for a moment and nodded slightly.

“You’re right, I need to rethink this.”

“Lately, I’ve become more cautious in picking roles, overthinking everything. The more I have, the greedier and stingier I become, making it harder to just enjoy the simple joy of playing a role or reading a script.”

It’s lonely at the top.

Because of his position, he began to fear mistakes, fear falling, fear decline. And when it came to choosing projects, that carefree attitude was gone.

Especially after working on The Butterfly Effect and Spider-Man 2, Anson found himself becoming more involved in adjusting scripts and characters, naturally wanting to offer suggestions to improve the script—

Of course, this was normal and necessary. Everyone wanted the project to improve, and positive, constructive discussions led to a healthy cycle, giving the film positive feedback.

But it didn’t always go that way.

Actors are actors, not writers. Constantly trying to revise scripts or interfere with others’ work flips things upside down.

Moreover, not every discussion leads to positive outcomes; often, workplace discussions can end poorly.

The key is balance and clarity.

But that’s the hardest part.

Lucas looked at Anson, “Do you like this role? If so, take it. If not, just pass on it.”

It didn’t seem so complicated.

A smile appeared in Anson’s eyes, “This is Johnny Cash—it’s not just any role.”

Lucas responded, “But in the movie, he’s just a character. Even if Johnny Cash himself wrote the script, the character on screen is not 100% him, but an artistically crafted version.”

“If anyone believes that the character on screen is the real Johnny Cash, they clearly know nothing about Hollywood.”

Anson laughed, “When you put it that way, it really does seem simpler. We often make things complicated for no reason.”

After a moment of contemplation, he let go of his overthinking and really listened to his gut—

The answer surfaced.

“I like the challenge,” Anson said.

Lucas didn’t react much, “Then you should seize the opportunity.”

Anson nodded in agreement—

Challenges are always there. It doesn't matter if Anson has lived two lives; the challenges are the same. He should embrace them.

For instance, with Spider-Man 2, even after rewriting the script, was there any guarantee the movie would be better? Or that it would perform well at the box office?

No, it wasn’t certain. Anson couldn’t predict it, and everything was new.

The same goes for Walk the Line. If Anson accepted the role, he couldn’t be sure whether he could deliver a performance as brilliant as Joaquin Phoenix’s, or whether the film would gather award nominations like in the past.

Everything was uncertain.

But Anson wanted to embrace the challenge.

So, with a smile on his lips, his mood brightened.

“The Captain will be disappointed.”

Lucas glanced over, “Why? Doesn’t he like the project?”

Anson shook his head, “Not exactly, he just has some reservations. But if I take this project, I won’t have time to audition for James Bond.”

Lucas didn’t hide his surprise, “James Bond?”

Anson nodded, “Yes. Pierce Brosnan is fifty this year. Though he still looks dashing, his agility is fading, and he might not be able to continue in the role.”

“And the Bond series has a tradition of bringing in new faces. Pierce has done four films, and now it’s time for a fresh face.”

“So, they’re looking for a new James Bond.”

Lucas imagined it for a moment, “That would suit you perfectly.”

Tuxedos, sports cars, Bond girls.

There was no doubt that Anson’s vibe and image matched James Bond, and their collaboration would surely spark some magic.

Anson replied, “The Captain thinks so too.”

Lucas noticed the hesitation in Anson’s voice, “You don’t agree?”

Anson paused briefly before organizing his thoughts.

“In theory, it should be an incredibly fun project. Everyone has fantasized about being James Bond at least once, right?”

“I’m no exception.”

“But I don’t think they’ll choose me.”

“First, I’m Peter Parker. You know how much effort Sony Columbia has put into getting audiences to associate me with Peter Parker? If I suddenly show up as James Bond, audiences would be confused.”

“MGM and Sony Columbia would probably fight over it.”

“Even if MGM wanted me as Bond, they’d likely wait until the Spider-Man series is finished. Otherwise, there would be unnecessary conflict between the two characters, whose on-screen images couldn’t be more different.”

In Hollywood, actors playing different roles is common. But playing leads in different film franchises is another story.

Franchise films bind actors to their characters because it involves brand identity, image value, and marketing strategies. Both MGM and Sony Columbia would have their concerns.

So, this was the biggest obstacle to Anson playing James Bond, at least for now.

*Chapter 1097: It's About Participation*

Originally, Lucas had no particular thoughts; after all, the main job of a Hollywood actor is to take on different roles. But now that he calmed down and thought about it, he suddenly understood that series films are a bit different.

Moreover, both the James Bond and Peter Parker roles have already developed their own brand effect, making the selection of actors even more cautious.

But Lucas was slightly surprised, "Did you just say the first one?"

That would mean there’s a second and third as well?

Is Anson really that unsuitable for 007?

"Second, age."

"Although MGM didn’t limit the age range, the buzz from the producers suggested between 18 and 45. However, that doesn't mean MGM would actually choose an 18-year-old for James Bond."

"An 18-year-old James Bond could cause the whole film to skew toward a teenage audience, especially at the expense of 007's appeal to women—something MGM absolutely doesn’t want."

"If James Bond were 18, he would still be in spy school, and the entire story would unfold in a completely different way."

"My personal guess is that MGM would still prefer to choose an actor around 35, matching the target audience's market positioning and aligning with the prime age for Hollywood actors."

All along, Anson knew that for now, age, like being typecast as a pretty face, was a limiting label blocking his path to more roles.

In the original history, after Pierce Brosnan prepared to step down, Henry Cavill was once a candidate for James Bond. The young British actor had performed exceptionally well in the auditions, impressing at least four producers.

At that time, Henry Cavill was practically confirmed as the new James Bond!

However, after countless meetings between the producers and the studio, they ultimately dismissed the idea for one reason: Henry’s youth—

In 2003, Henry was only 20 years old.

Actually, it wasn’t just MGM and the 007 producers’ decision. It was more about the global market’s positioning. Compared to the teen market, mainstream commercial films target working and financially stable adults. Naturally, the choice of actors needs to reflect that.

In the end, Henry stumbled at the final hurdle.

The 007 team restarted the audition process, and Daniel Craig emerged as the new Bond. At that time, he was only 35, making him the youngest James Bond ever.

For this reason, the production team defined this Bond as a fledgling James Bond—slightly reckless and raw, prone to mistakes, and more reliant on physical combat. The first film in the series was also based on the original “Casino Royale,” the first book in the 007 series.

From this perspective, considering Anson for “Walk the Line” was already an exception because the role spanned from age 20 to over 40, a range that was no less challenging than “Catch Me If You Can.”

The difference was that in “Catch Me If You Can,” young Frank Abagnale was mostly 17, a role Anson could effortlessly handle; in “Walk the Line,” Johnny Cash was often in his 30s, making Joaquin a more suitable choice.

"Additionally..."

Anson paused slightly.

Lucas didn’t hide his surprise, "There’s more?"

Anson nodded, "Fame."

Lucas didn’t understand.

Anson continued to explain.

"007 is a spy, at least in name, and the series always prefers actors who aren’t too famous to avoid audiences forming preconceived notions."

"And me, I’m too famous now. In other projects, that might be an advantage, but for the 007 series, it could be a disadvantage—perhaps even preventing me from getting to the audition stage."

A hint of surprise flickered in Lucas's eyes.

Anson added, "Also, every James Bond actor to date has been British."

Lucas: ...

Anson shrugged, "It's one of the three prides of British pop culture—007, Doctor Who, and Sherlock Holmes. They insist that these roles be played by British actors to resist the intrusion of other countries’ pop culture. This is a market-based decision, and you can’t blame them for it."

In fact, based on Anson’s knowledge of later events, after Daniel Craig’s departure, the 007 team had considered breaking conventions to embrace modern trends—

A Black Bond? An American Bond? A female Bond? Or even a 20-year-old Bond?

They contemplated pushing the boundaries and opening up a new landscape because when Daniel Craig took over, he faced a wave of criticism from the media and the public for not being handsome or elegant enough, even looking somewhat rugged. This completely shattered people’s traditional image of James Bond; no one expected that a younger Daniel would inject new life into the series, rejuvenating 007.

Given that success, why not go all out?

As a result, various rumors circulated for over three years about Daniel Craig’s successor, filling every corner of the media. Even reports of Daniel potentially returning for another film were persistent. By the time Anson crossed over, there was still no clear answer.

The latest reports indicated that an actor had already been offered the contract and was awaiting signature—

Aaron Taylor-Johnson.

Yes, the same actor who played young Anson in “The Butterfly Effect.”

In the end, the 007 team remained conservative. Look at the labels on Aaron Taylor-Johnson:

British. Thirty-five (the age when preparing to sign the contract). Male. White.

While he wasn’t another Daniel Craig, he was practically chosen based on the same template.

Surprised? Unexpected?

And that’s twenty years from now, so in 2003, Anson was highly skeptical that the 007 series would seriously consider him for James Bond.

Lucas didn’t know much about the film industry, but he was smart enough to grasp the depth in Anson's words, "So, Edgar still insists you audition?"

Anson shrugged, "Hey, it's 007, everyone’s dream. When the opportunity arises, who could bear to miss it?"

Then he added, "Besides, it’s a great marketing strategy."

Imagine TMZ’s latest headline—

“Anson Wood Could Be the Next James Bond!”

It would undoubtedly drive traffic, igniting heated discussions that could benefit both Anson and 007. The hype alone could give the film a solid boost of anticipation.

Of course, there would also be controversy, and it’s likely people in the UK wouldn’t favor this possibility.

But regardless, tying Anson to another iconic franchise after “Spider-Man” would be a direct testament to his current meteoric rise, even allowing him to take his career to the next level and avenge Sony Columbia’s recent backroom tactics perfectly.

So, from a marketing perspective alone, Edgar wouldn't want to miss this significant opportunity.

Lucas didn’t agree, shaking his head slightly, "I don’t think Edgar is doing it just for the marketing. He might genuinely believe you have a chance."

*Chapter 1098: Unemployed*

“It’s not just about marketing with Edgar. I think he genuinely believes you have a chance.”

Amid the swirling rumors, Lucas seized on the core idea.

“Just imagine, why not?”

“Hasn’t it been thirty, maybe forty years since the last 007 film? They’ve always stuck to the same type, the same style, maintaining the brand image. That’s a good thing.”

“But at the same time, the audience has changed. Viewers today have higher standards for genre films, and their tastes are more demanding. If 007 doesn’t evolve, it could lose its market, stagnating like a pond losing its vitality.”

“The Sherlock Holmes films haven’t been updated for years, have they?”

“If the production team is smart, they should break the mold at the right time and inject fresh energy into the series.”

“I believe you’re their chance, and Edgar probably thinks so too.”

At least, from a theoretical standpoint, it made sense.

Anson put down his paint palette and looked at Lucas with surprise, his face lighting up with interest. “Since when do you care about movies?”

Lucas didn’t even lift an eyelid. “Since you became an actor.”

Anson was at a loss for words.

Lucas continued, “At its core, movies are also business.”

Anson protested, “Oh, that’s not romantic at all. Movies are art. Art!”

Lucas responded, “Art still needs to make money. If no one notices the art, it’s as if no one values it. Do you want to end up like Van Gogh?”

Anson spread his hands, looking defeated. “You’ve destroyed all my romantic fantasies. Now I feel like I’m drenched in greed.”

Obviously, it was a joke.

Lucas gave a mock tip of his hat.

Anson burst into laughter. “By the way, why are you here? What about your job? God, if I were your boss, I would’ve fired you by now.”

Lucas replied, “You wouldn’t have had to. I quit.”

Anson: …

Anson blinked, his first reaction was that Lucas was joking, but after scrutinizing him closely, he realized Lucas was serious.

“Wait, why?”

Lucas said, “Differences in our visions.”

Anson snorted. “Is that a divorce statement? Why are you being so casual about it?”

Lucas remained calm. “When people come together, they eventually part ways. Partnerships end. It’s part of life. There’s no need to make a fuss about it.”

Anson felt the breath catch in his chest and rolled his eyes. “Do Mom and Dad know?”

Lucas replied, “They haven’t asked.”

It was so absurd that Anson laughed. “If I hadn’t asked, you wouldn’t have said anything, would you?”

Lucas retorted, “Do you tell us every time you land or miss a project?”

Anson widened his eyes. “From now on, I definitely will.”

Lucas shrugged, “But I don’t want to hear it.”

Anson: …

After a brief moment of shock, Anson calmed down a bit. “When did this happen?”

Lucas answered casually, “A while ago.”

Anson asked, “Wait, was it because of me?”

Lucas was about to answer.

Anson shook his head, “Don’t brush me off. When I was in the hospital, you were hanging around like an unemployed drifter. Did that cause problems with your company?”

“Lucas, is that what happened?”

Lucas remained silent.

Anson couldn’t hold back, “Damn it! Damn, damn, damn!”

He looked up at Lucas, complex emotions swirling in his chest, eventually turning into a helpless smile tugging at his lips. “So, what’s next? What’s your plan?”

Lucas stayed composed, “You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Remember? I went to Silicon Valley all by myself back in the day, started from scratch, and wasn’t afraid of anything. It’s still the same now.”

“Besides, now I have you, don’t I? My little brother has grown up, and the funds you invested with me are still in good hands.”

He paused, then added, “I’m planning to head to Los Angeles.”

Anson raised an eyebrow. “Why not just come to Malibu? I’ll take care of you.”

Anson originally meant it as a joke, teasing Lucas, but to his surprise, Lucas nodded lightly. “That’s actually the plan for the first six months. I’ve already moved my stuff in while I get settled.”

Anson: ?

After a moment’s thought, Anson said, “Lucas, be honest. Is Noah the spy you planted to keep an eye on me?” He looked dead serious.

Lucas glanced at Anson. “I thought you just invited me to Malibu.”

“An invite’s an invite, but you went ahead without asking. Something’s off here.”

“As long as the outcome’s the same, does it matter?”

“No, no, no. The sequence of events matters. You’re feeling guilty, which is why you came all the way to Columbus to apologize, right?”

The brothers continued to bicker, neither willing to back down, volleying playful insults back and forth.

After sunset, Lucas and Anson left the studio. Instead of driving, they walked to a nearby restaurant in the fading glow of twilight.

It was a modest Italian family restaurant with no fancy dishes but a warm, cozy atmosphere.

The chef, also the owner, claimed the recipes were passed down from his grandmother, authentic Italian home cooking.

The grandmother was the restaurant’s original chef, working until she physically couldn’t anymore and was forced into retirement. Now, the owner had taken over, but the elderly woman still visited regularly to supervise, chatting with customers in Italian.

Anson shared a small glass of wine with the grandmother, while Lucas sat quietly, watching his younger brother mingle effortlessly with everyone in the restaurant.

After dinner, the Wood brothers continued their stroll through the city, eventually stopping at a grocery store to buy a bunch of things.

Lucas pretended not to notice when Anson sneakily tucked three extra bags of chips into the cart, despite already buying five bags openly.

It wasn’t until they reached the checkout that Anson, feeling guilty, confessed, and Lucas silently allowed it, making Anson cheer with joy.

With bags of groceries in hand, the brothers made their way back to the studio, which had a second floor complete with bedrooms, a bathroom, and a guest room—everything Anson needed for his stay.

Back at the studio, Lucas mixed cocktails while Anson lounged on the backyard sofa, counting stars. A cool breeze brushed against his face, his muscles relaxed, and with a soda and a bag of chips, life felt simple and sweet.

“...That’s your second bag already. At this rate, you won’t have any left by tomorrow night,” Lucas observed with mild exasperation, eyeing the empty chip bag beside Anson.

Anson waved it off, grabbing the cocktail from Lucas, and casually changed the subject.

Lucas didn’t press the issue further. He sat down next to Anson, letting the moonlight wash over him as he gradually relaxed.

It wasn’t until Anson’s calm voice broke the silence that Lucas tensed up, “Lucas, you leaving the company and heading to Los Angeles—it wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision, was it?”

There was a certainty hidden behind Anson’s calm tone, one that struck Lucas like a lightning bolt, momentarily freezing him in place.

*Chapter 1099: Darkness Lurking*

"Luca, leaving the company to head to Los Angeles wasn’t an accident, was it?"

Anson’s words, though calm, carried a hint of certainty and suspicion in his measured tone.

Suddenly, it gripped Luca’s heart.

In that brief moment, countless thoughts raced through his mind, but Luca remained composed, looking at Anson without revealing any emotion. "What makes you think that?"

Everything had to appear as normal as possible.

Anson glanced at Luca and chuckled softly, "Just a hunch."

Luca turned away, maintaining his composure. "If that’s what you call a family instinct, then I have no objections. I’d only be concerned if it’s a Hollywood star’s intuition, always thinking the world revolves around them."

Anson wasn’t in a hurry. He smiled as he continued, "Maybe. I can’t clearly distinguish, but something just doesn’t feel right."

"I know you all care about me, support me, and have always been understanding—that's what family does, right? But why does it always feel like something's off?"

"After this incident, everyone was on edge like startled cats. Dad and Mom rushed back, you just up and quit your job, and now you’re even moving to Los Angeles."

"Remember the last time?"

"You were all worried about me, and rushed to Los Angeles, convincing me to move. There was buying property, remodeling, and a flurry of activity, while I, the person concerned, was just idle."

Luca remained expressionless, but he didn't turn to observe Anson's face, wary that his gaze or expression might give something away. He carefully hid himself in the cover of the night.

Then, Luca spoke, "Who can blame us? You’re our favorite troublemaker."

"If something happened to us, I’m sure you’d be the first to rush over."

Anson shrugged lightly, "Maybe."

"One night in the hospital, I overheard Mom and Dad talking, thinking I was asleep."

"Mom said she couldn’t bear to lose me again."

"So, did you all lose me once before?"

For a long time, Anson had sensed something wasn’t quite right. The Wood family seemed to dote on him excessively, even to the point of indulgence. He had always assumed that this was just how family should be.

Yet, things didn’t add up.

Deep down, Anson felt a pain and struggle, not just sorrow—it was a cold mixture of fear, anxiety, and despair, deeply rooted in the recesses of his memory, pulling him down.

It didn’t make sense.

The grief, the pain, the darkness—they had no discernible origin.

Anson didn’t understand. If his past had such a loving family, why did he always feel like he was struggling to breathe?

He hadn’t forgotten how he ended up here:

The bathroom. White powder.

Of course, there were other possible explanations. Hollywood is known for its wild parties; perhaps his former self was just enjoying a little party, and things got out of hand. Such incidents happen all the time.

But the details kept piling up, revealing something unusual.

Even when he overheard the Woods’ conversation at the hospital, he remained silent, partly because he doubted himself, thinking he might have misunderstood in his half-awake state; and partly because he had no concrete evidence, fearing he’d expose himself.

But Anson had no answers.

He thought maybe it was because his soul hadn’t fully fused with the original host's, causing some memory loss. Yet, as time went on, those feelings grew stronger, and the gaps in his memory remained unfilled.

There was an unease, a confusion, lurking like an invisible bomb.

Until now.

Luca resigned and was preparing to head to Los Angeles.

That instinct had grown stronger, so strong it threatened to swallow his rationality.

Anson sensed the Wood family’s protection, even overprotectiveness—no matter what happened, they were always the first to respond.

Remember?

Anson hadn’t been answering calls, so Luca had reached out to Edgar, then sent Noah to stay by his side.

These little things, seemingly insignificant, had quietly planted a seed.

It took root and sprouted.

Finally, Anson spoke up, facing the issue head-on.

His voice flowed steadily in the darkness.

Luca didn’t turn his head, but he could feel Anson’s calm and focused gaze on him.

A bit of panic set in.

Luca swallowed hard, trying to keep himself steady. Although his fingertips had started to sweat, he managed to stay composed.

Then, he turned.

Luca met Anson's gaze. "I think you misheard."

Their eyes locked in the darkness.

Anson quietly observed Luca, then gently raised his chin. "Right, that must be it. I must have misheard. I was just worried something like that happened, and it’s all in my head, so I didn’t ask Mom."

Luca breathed a sigh of relief.

But Anson didn’t stop speaking. "Luca, did I ever tell you? When I was auditioning for 'Friends,' I almost died."

"Suspected OD."

In an instant, Luca’s breath was cut off. He tried to say something but found he couldn’t make a sound, his heart exploding in his chest.

No!

Luca clenched his fists, every muscle in his body tensed to the extreme. All his rationality and self-control vanished without a trace in that moment.

Anson, however, remained calm, sipping his cocktail as he quietly gazed at the stars.

"Should I blame myself?"

"I don’t know what happened or what’s lurking in the darkness, but it feels like something is watching me, ready to strike. I don’t know if it’s just my imagination or if there’s real danger."

"I’ve tried to shake it off, tried to run, tried to crawl into the rabbit hole, and hoped the world would fall silent so I could ignore the unease."

"But..."

To be honest, Anson wasn’t sure how to express himself.

Then, he fell silent—

For the first time, since crossing over.

Anson had considered it: if he couldn’t remember, if the Wood family never mentioned it, if those memories didn’t seem to play any role, then he could continue pretending.

It was for his own protection, to avoid exposing himself; it was also for his mental well-being. Some scars didn’t need reopening.

Some secrets were better left buried. The truth wouldn’t help anyone.

So, Anson had always kept his mouth shut.

But it wasn’t that simple.

As they spent more time together, growing closer, their bond deepened. Unknowingly, they had already broken the barriers of strangers and become an inseparable part of each other’s lives. And those hidden feelings of unease, sadness, fear, and pain kept stirring beneath the surface.

Maybe, running away wasn’t a solution after all.

Maybe, someday, they would all need to face the truth—Luca included—otherwise, the wounds would never heal.

So, Anson broke the silence, shattering the last barrier between them.

Chapter 1100: Hidden Nightmare

If needed, if it was necessary, Anson didn’t mind drawing a line, keeping a distance between family and himself, carefully concealing the truth of the soul beneath the surface and continuing to play the role of Anson Wood, fitting into the act.

However, just like in The Truman Show, emotions break free from their shackles, and freedom and truth begin to take root. In the end, they all have to take that step, to embrace their own reality, because it is the only path to freedom.

So, Anson turned to Lucas.

“Luca, are you worried about losing me?”

The more brutal and bloody truth was that they had already lost him.

What stood in front of Lucas now was merely a shell, beneath which lay a different soul, a scarred, exhausted one.

What would they do if they knew this truth?

Lucas couldn’t breathe. His soul slowly slipped into the abyss of darkness, consumed by despair, as all his reason and resolve were torn to shreds.

He tried to argue, to deny, to grasp onto something—but there was nothing to hold. The cold of the night seeped into his blood, spreading silently under his skin.

In the end, Lucas had no choice. He surrendered.

"Anson, stay with me..." Lucas's voice rasped, barely squeezing out the words, his voice hoarse and terrifying.

Lucas panicked. He had never felt such fear before. The nightmares from the depths of his memory gripped his ankles, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t escape.

This version of Lucas was something Anson had never seen before—sweat dripping from his brow, face pale, his pupils trembling in anxiety, his soul being torn apart by uncertainty and fear.

It seized Anson's breath as well.

At this moment, it was Anson who first regained his composure, because, frankly, he had no idea what was going on.

Ignorance breeds fearlessness.

“Luca, I’m here,” Anson’s voice gripped Lucas’s soul, standing firm in the gentle night breeze.

Lucas carefully studied Anson, wiping his face hard, trying to clear his head. When he looked at Anson again, there was a hint of unease in his eyes.

“You don’t remember anything?”

Anson shook his head.

Lucas froze, then slowly let out a breath, as if expelling all the tension from his chest. “Maybe forgetting is a good thing. We’ve been doing everything we can to make you forget, to pretend that it never happened.”

Anson responded, “But it happened, didn’t it?”

“Even though I don’t remember, you do.”

“You remember, Mom remembers, Dad remembers, and this event casts a shadow over all of you. Look at you. Maybe you're the victims. Maybe we need to talk about it.”

Lucas, in pain, blurted out, “No.”

“I can’t let you go through that pain again. Since you’ve forgotten, there’s no need to bring it up again. Let those memories stay buried, okay?”

Anson sighed softly.

Initially, it was about him, wanting to explore the truth. But now it seemed like only the truth could free Lucas and the others. They were silently carrying the weight, perhaps suffering even more than Anson.

For so long, he had kept his distance from them to avoid becoming more entangled. But, without realizing it, they were breaking through that barrier, truly becoming his family.

Silence spread, thick and heavy.

Then, Anson’s voice quietly flowed in the night air, “But the ghosts hidden in those memories have never disappeared. They’re slowly rising to the surface.”

“Ignoring them doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

He stopped talking and fell quiet again.

Lucas buried his face in his hands, struggling in agony.

Finally, in the chaos, he found a thread of reason and held onto it tightly. He looked up at Anson, a vulnerability in his eyes he had never shown before.

“Anson, are you sure? It’s a Pandora’s box.”

Anson shook his head. “No, Luca, I’m not sure. I can’t be sure of anything because I don’t know. I have no idea what’s coming.”

“But you’re here, aren’t you?”

That sentence seemed to strike Lucas. He squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the pain and struggle that were so raw, so real.

Anson froze, confused about what he had said wrong. Wasn’t that a completely normal response? What was going on with Lucas?

This time, Anson remained silent, giving Lucas space, patiently waiting. The world quieted down again.

When the silence was finally broken, it was Lucas who spoke.

“That year, you were nine.”

“We heard that a big traveling carnival had come to Brooklyn. You begged Mom and Dad to take you, but they were too busy with work and refused.”

“So, you came to me.”

“You know how stubborn you can be when you don’t want to take ‘no’ for an answer.”

“I figured if I refused too, you might sneak off on your own. So I decided it was better if I took you—at least I could keep you safe.”

“And then we snuck out together, keeping it from Mom and Dad.”

The story’s beginning was unexpected.

But a soft smile tugged at the corner of Anson’s lips. It matched his personality, and Lucas was as familiar as ever.

Anson asked, “Was the carnival fun?”

Lucas was taken aback. “What?”

“I said, was the carnival fun?” Anson repeated.

Lucas let out a laugh. Only Anson would be curious about such details.

“It was fun.”

“That was the 90s. Traveling carnivals were already becoming a thing of the past. When we could go to Disney, watch the world on TV, or play video games, the charm of those Gypsy-like carnivals faded.”

“But because of that, we had never seen anything like it. Everything was new to us.”

“I still remember how you clung to my hand, your eyes darting everywhere, unable to stop looking at everything. It was like Alice falling into Wonderland.”

Anson nodded softly. “That sounds just like me.”

Lucas chuckled. “It wasn’t just you. I was just as dazzled. Everything was so vibrant and exciting that I got distracted. I let go of your hand for just a second.”

The words came to an abrupt stop, and Lucas seemed to forget how to breathe.

Anson noticed.

The rest of the story didn’t need asking; it was easy to predict where it was going.

“Luca, that wasn’t your fault. I was just too curious,” Anson tried to comfort him.

But Lucas shook his head. “No, it was my fault. I shouldn’t have taken you out, thinking I could handle everything. And I shouldn’t have let go of your hand. It was all my fault, and then…I lost you.”

Lost? What did he mean by lost?

Like tearing off a band-aid, the truth needed to be quick and sharp.

Lucas gritted his teeth and revealed the truth in one go, “You went missing. I couldn’t find you. Even the police couldn’t find you. You just…disappeared.”