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Chapter 896: Eternally Frozen

A smear of red slowly seeped into the yellow, spreading across the white marble floor, as the sound of gunfire echoed through the corridor.

So direct, so clean, so sudden.

Leaving not a trace of hope.

Perhaps, Eric was the only exception.

With a turn, Eric once again pointed his gun at Russ.

"In any case, Mr. Russ, no matter what, you know there are plenty of people like us outside. If you treat them the way you treated me and Alex, they will kill you."

"Before I change my mind, get lost."

After speaking, Eric kicked Russ.

Finally snapping out of his shock, Russ scrambled away, crawling in a panic.

But Eric remained in place. Once Russ had gotten a little farther, he pulled the trigger—

Bang.

One shot after another.

Russ fell to the ground.

Eric looked at Russ' lifeless body. "B**ch."

Then he walked away, leaving without hesitation.

Meanwhile, Alex continued hunting, leaving nothing but scorched earth in his wake, with no life left behind. The entire world descended into endless silence.

He was searching, he was tracking—

The world, utterly still, seemed devoid of any living beings.

This annoyed Alex a bit. "Damn."

At the end of the corridor, Nathan and his girlfriend were frantically fleeing, desperately trying to find a place to hide. In their panic, the young couple ran into the campus cafeteria.

However, Alex entered the cafeteria as well.

The cafeteria was a wasteland, filled with corpses. Half-eaten lunches still sat on tables, but there were no living beings in sight.

Alex found a seat, picked up an untouched glass of orange juice, and slowly sipped, as if savoring a moment of peace.

"Hey, man, if I were you, I wouldn't drink that. You'll catch herpes."

Looking up, it was none other than Eric.

Alex slowly stood up. "How'd it go?"

The camera followed Alex's gaze and focused on Eric.

Eric shrugged lightly. "Not bad. How about you?"

Before Alex could respond, Eric continued, "I killed the principal, and a few others..."

Bang.

A sound, and a bloom of blood erupted from behind Alex.

He collapsed to the floor.

No more breath left.

The camera remained still, focused on the hallway, not moving even after Eric collapsed. It held an empty shot, lingering there.

The Lumière Hall audience went wild—

Completely and utterly.

True madness. Not cheers or screams, but a tidal wave of confusion, with no way to express it.

Stunned, shocked, overwhelmed.

Each person was glued to their seat, utterly incapable of thinking.

Dead silence.

Until Alex stormed into view, causing the audience to push back in their seats instinctively, trying to escape, but trapped in place.

Clap.

A sound pierced the silence, and Alex immediately took notice, following it through the kitchen, through the storeroom, until he found the freezer room.

He pulled open the freezer door, where a shaft of sunlight streamed through the window. Between the hanging slabs of pork, the couple huddled together, trembling.

Alex saw Nathan, the one who used to throw wet paper balls at him for fun in class.

"Oh, oh, oh."

A smile crept onto Alex's face.

Nathan and his girlfriend retreated, disappearing into the freezer.

Alex followed them inside, turned around, and looked at them, his smile fully blooming.

"Hey, look who we have here."

Then, Alex raised his gun.

"Man, don't do this."

"Son of a b***h, you dare!"

"Please, don't do this."

"What are you doing?"

"Please, you don't want to do this, really, this isn't what you want."

Their desperate pleading, mixed with anger and fear, became fuel for Alex's excitement.

He aimed his gun at the two, singing a nursery rhyme.

A rhyme like "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe."

"Catch a tiger by the toe."

"If he hollers, let him go."

Slow and deliberate, like a cat playing with a mouse, his gun followed the rhythm, savoring the moment, feeding off their fear and anger.

The young couple had lost all sense, babbling incoherently.

"Are you crazy? Stop it."

"Please, I beg you."

Amid their desperate pleas, Alex’s smile reached its peak.

"Eeny."

"Meeny."

"Miny."

"Moe."

The countdown ended, and Alex tilted his head slightly upward.

However.

The screen cut away.

The camera zoomed in on the sky, where streaks of blue and hints of green blended, clouds slowly drifting, with the pale, blinding sun shining down.

The movie, ended.

Everything was frozen in time.

Strain your ears, but there were no clues. No one knew if Alex pulled the trigger. No one knew what happened next. No one knew how the story ended—

The couple. Alex. Anson.

The abrupt end, right at the peak of fear and anger, marked by a full stop.

Then, the melody began, and it was... Für Elise.

The gentle, flowing melody trickled through, while the credits slowly rolled—

Anson, Anson-Wood.

Alex, Alex-Frost.

Eric, Eric-Dren.

And so on, and so on.

Every actor appeared under their real name in the movie.

So.

What was reality? What was fiction?

What was part of the movie? What was real?

The fourth wall had been completely shattered, making it impossible to distinguish.

The entire Lumière Hall seemed to have just survived a catastrophe, an ordinary day in a high school, dull to the point of boredom, where hidden prejudices, violence, and discrimination lurked in the mundane but went unnoticed, not even causing a ripple.

Until one day, on a sunny afternoon, everything was overturned.

Without warning, with no clear beginning or end, irrationally destroying the entire narrative.

In the next second, the world spun and collapsed.

Rationality, thought, and reaction—all were torn apart in a hurricane.

Crying out loud, screaming out—none of it was possible, even the ability to respond was gone.

Für Elise continued to flow, as the credits slowly climbed, leaving everyone drained, soaked in sweat, as if just pulled out of the water, yet parched and dehydrated.

One by one, they stared dumbfounded at the screen—

Utter silence, complete stillness.

It was impossible to tell whether the sudden outbreak of violence was more terrifying, or whether the quiet, everyday violence was more terrifying, or whether the final scene, teasing before pulling the trigger, was the most terrifying.

Countless thoughts exploded in the mind.

Leaving only a roaring emptiness.

Shivers ran down their spines, and they trembled, as though they had just narrowly escaped death themselves, as though their friends had just been shot, one by one.

Terrified, but unable to make a sound. Not a single one.

Their souls dimmed before the screen, crumbling to the ground.

Trembling.

*Chapter 897: Trembling*

In 1971, Stanley Kubrick’s rebellious masterpiece A Clockwork Orange exploded onto the scene. The juxtaposition of classical music with violence left a lasting impression. Whether it was Beethoven's Ode to Joy, The Thieving Magpie, or Pomp and Circumstance, or even the protagonist humming Singin’ in the Rain during acts of violence, the film presented a disturbing psychological portrait of violence and a fierce critique of mainstream culture in a uniquely bizarre and sarcastic manner.

This absurdity, without a doubt, became a timeless cinematic classic.

In 2003, Gus Van Sant imbued Für Elise with a similarly twisted quality, birthing violence within a serene and gentle atmosphere. While lacking the perverse edge of A Clockwork Orange, it vividly depicted an underlying terror, a tension so thick that viewers could barely continue watching.

Coincidentally, the protagonist of A Clockwork Orange was named Alex, and the culprit in Elephant was also named Alex. Is this a mere coincidence?

To some extent, the real terror of Elephant lies in the youth of Alex and Eric.

Two high school students.

Gus, in a provocative stance, chose to showcase the bloodshed wrought by these minors. This kind of depiction is rare in cinematic history and undoubtedly crossed some boundaries. Although the film avoids direct portrayals of gory bloodshed, opting instead for indirect shots, the moment the trigger is pulled, the effect is undeniable.

This, indeed, is a provocation.

Without question, this wasn’t the Gus who made Good Will Hunting or My Own Private Idaho. This was a Gus who, in a subversive fashion, obliterated the entire Lumière Hall.

And then, the movie ended.

The big screen went dark. This was a simple, ordinary moment, yet the unexpected darkness instilled a sense of dread and despair.

There was no need to close your eyes to imagine the despair of Nathan and his girlfriend.

But they would never know the ending. Did Alex pull the trigger?

That fear gripped your heart, causing your entire body to curl up, trembling.

Thankfully, it was just a fleeting moment.

Click.

The lights slowly came up, their soft glow neither bright nor harsh, yet their warmth felt like sunlight on your skin. Thoughts rushed in like a tidal wave, and a sense of relief filled your chest as you began to breathe deeply again.

And then.

Finally, the line between reality and fiction reasserted itself, grounding your soul back in the Lumière Hall.

Exchanging glances, looking around, everyone seemed overwhelmed, unable to contain the flood of emotions stirring within them.

They stood and applauded.

It wasn’t until you stood that you realized your knees were weak and trembling, nearly buckling beneath you.

But because of that, after hurriedly regaining your balance and concealing your awkwardness, you clapped even harder, pouring every ounce of strength into it.

From confusion, doubt, and dislike to curiosity, focus, and finally shock, this was an indescribable, unbelievable viewing experience; but undoubtedly, it was one you would never forget.

This is the power of cinema.

The collision of palms didn’t bring pain but instead served as a release for the storm raging inside your mind, each clap carrying the force of those swirling emotions.

Then, you became part of the storm that overtook the Lumière Hall.

Clap, clap, clap.

The sound grew louder and louder, and in no time, it broke free of any restraints, transforming into an all-encompassing storm sweeping through the room.

No exceptions.

From the first floor to the second, from left wing to right, from the front row to the back, every single person stood and clapped.

No one escaped this whirlwind. No one.

Alex and Eric were so startled they nearly fell out of their seats. Struggling to maintain their composure, they turned to the audience in disbelief, then looked to Anson for guidance.

Even Anson was stunned by the scene before him.

It wasn’t that Anson hadn’t experienced thunderous applause at a premiere before—he had, more than once—but this was different, completely different.

There were no whistles, no cheers, no shouts, just pure applause.

The eyes of the audience, filled with passion and emotion, looked toward the screen. Without words, you could feel their deep love for the film.

To be precise, words would have been inadequate. Nothing could match the thunderous applause that conveyed their emotions in such a pure and fiery way, igniting the Lumière Hall.

Simple, yet crazy.

For the first time, Anson could feel the heartbeat of this town, pulsing for cinema.

And for the first time, Anson was grateful to be a part of this film—not because of his performance or his role, but because of the film itself.

Tonight’s real star should be the director, the creator of this masterpiece. Anson finally understood why French cinema always places such importance on directors, elevating them to a crucial position.

In Hollywood, movies are commodities. From concept to budget, everything revolves around market potential, sales, and profits, so producers are typically in charge, much like product managers.

In Europe, film is an art form. Instead of focusing on market reactions, the emphasis is on creation, imagination, personal reflection, and innovation. Hence, directors are at the core.

Of course, this isn’t absolute. Hollywood values artistic expression, and Europe cares about market returns. But the priorities are different, not only for producers and directors but also for audiences, leading to distinct cinematic cultures.

Right now, that difference was clear.

Cannes had shown Anson another side of cinema.

It can be commercial, mainstream, and popular, but it can also be artistic, personal, and wild. This is why cinema is called the seventh art.

More importantly, cinema should be about stories, characters, and life, just as much as it’s about actors, directors, and creation.

That’s why superhero movies are often compared to theme parks—not because of their commercial nature, but because they lack real human experiences. The characters never face true danger, and their relationships lack genuine emotion. How can audiences emotionally invest in endless planet-saving scenarios with no real stakes?

At the Cannes Film Festival, Anson had never felt this truth more clearly.

Now, this moment belonged to Gus.

Though everything was new to Anson, and it was his first time, he knew what to do.

He stood, turned, and looked at Gus.

Then, he applauded.

Clap, clap, clap!

Anson clapped with all his might, pouring every emotion into it, celebrating and honoring Gus. It was as simple as that.

Alex and Eric, unsure of what to do, followed Anson’s lead and stood, clapping along.

The room roared.

Chapter 898: Standing Ovation

Clap clap clap.

Clap clap clap!

The applause kept growing, and when Anson and the others stood up, it reached a new peak. The already overwhelming wave of heat surged another level, turning into a storm.

Gus Van Sant looked slightly shy and reserved.

This director, who has been in the film industry for almost twenty years, had competed in the main competitions at Berlin and Venice, and stood on the stage of the Oscars. He had seen the peaks and different facets of the world.

Yet, he still maintained a childlike innocence.

He had always insisted on making independent films, focusing for ten years on the scars people carry and the effects left behind. He remained committed to shooting the films he wanted to make and discussing the topics he wanted to talk about. Compared to awards and box office, he cared more about the message the film conveyed.

No frills, always straightforward.

"Elephant" was no different. A collaboration with HBO, it unexpectedly made it to the Cannes stage.

And it earned a standing ovation.

Gus felt a bit bashful, still not accustomed to such moments in the spotlight.

Awkwardly standing up, Gus quietly gestured to Anson and the three children:

“Stop. Stop.”

But it didn’t work. Anson’s smile widened, and he slightly stepped aside, allowing the Lumière Hall to get a clear view of Gus.

Boom!

Incredibly, the applause rose another notch—

It swept across the entire hall.

Gus, surrounded by applause, was stunned by the scene in front of him, unable to believe his eyes and ears. He looked around:

Smiling faces filled every corner of his view, wild and ecstatic.

Suddenly, Gus felt his eyes well up with warmth.

He awkwardly wiped the slight moisture from the corners of his eyes and quickly put on a big smile, trying to hide his embarrassment. Then, copying Anson and the others, he started clapping too.

But unexpectedly, his emotions were stirred again, and warmth filled his eyes once more.

Though Gus never made films for moments like this, always focusing on life itself rather than awards and box office—otherwise, he wouldn't have made experimental films like Gerry and Elephant, which explore life and death.

But like all art, films only have value when seen by people. Otherwise, they are merely self-talk.

This scene overwhelmed Gus with emotions.

Since Good Will Hunting, he had almost disappeared from the public eye, and people had long forgotten that a director named Gus Van Sant was still making films with all his heart.

Gus didn’t want to make a big deal out of it or be overly sentimental, but he couldn’t hold back the tears.

Anson noticed and stepped forward, giving Gus a strong hug, patting him on the back, “Director, anyone who didn’t know might think I stole your credit.”

The joke made Gus burst into laughter.

Then Anson added, “This is your moment. Enjoy it.”

Once again, Gus's eyes welled up, and he both cried and laughed, as if his facial nerves were out of control.

The roaring applause broke through the doors of the Lumière Hall, reverberating throughout the first-floor lobby of the Palais des Festivals.

Buzz, buzz.

The air gently vibrated, as if a tsunami was approaching.

The crowds inside the lobby, and the audience waiting by the doors, all turned their attention toward the same direction.

After a brief moment of confusion, they perked up their ears and finally understood what was happening inside:

So... Elephant was a hit?

Shock, astonishment, exchanged glances.

Suddenly, everyone started discussing, unable to believe that Anson's Cannes debut had earned a full standing ovation—what a surprise.

Thinking back to last summer, after Spider-Man blew up the North American box office, Anson had disappeared from the public eye until TMZ revealed the news—Elephant was entering the spotlight, sparking heated discussions in Hollywood.

People mocked, easily guessing that Anson was trying to break into the art film scene to shake off his pretty-boy image. But that was laughable. If it were so easy to shed the "heartthrob" label, Hollywood wouldn’t have so many good-looking actors stuck in it—

Leonardo DiCaprio, Matthew McConaughey, Tom Cruise, Brad Pitt, George Clooney, Will Smith, Hugh Grant, Ben Affleck, Matt Damon, and so on.

If you wanted, the list could go on.

They all wanted to break free of their idol status but never quite succeeded. Now it was Anson's turn.

Instead of trying to fly before learning how to walk, it might be wiser to focus on the huge fame brought by Spider-Man first.

Working with Gus Van Sant?

It seemed like a terrible choice, a desperate move. After all, Gus’s best days were long behind him. He had been in self-amusement for too long, producing not art but garbage. Choosing Gus as a director could end in disaster.

However!

But!

Elephant not only made it into the Cannes main competition, but it also stunned everyone and shattered all expectations; it blew up the Lumière Hall during its highly anticipated premiere.

How did this happen, God!

So, what exactly happened inside the Lumière Hall?

Clap clap!

Clap clap!

The applause continued, unending.

And it only intensified.

In less than thirty minutes, the news had spread throughout the entire town of Cannes. People attending the festival in different venues heard the news spreading like wildfire:

Elephant received a twelve-minute standing ovation.

Twelve minutes.

Astonishment, shock, excitement.

Those who couldn’t attend Elephant’s premiere at the Lumière Hall were swept up in the storm, their world spinning:

What just happened?

Cannes is not Venice or Toronto. Unlike those friendly festivals, Cannes is known for its harshness. Even compared to the cold, objective Berlin, it’s just as brutal, if not more so.

In Berlin, if a film is bad, it’s bad. The audience won’t sugarcoat it. Cold criticism is delivered without mercy. But at Cannes, it’s not just criticism. Booing, cursing, and even walking out in the middle of a film are common. The French are known for expressing their dissatisfaction with passion.

So, when a film receives a standing ovation at Cannes, it means it’s a hit. If the applause lasts more than three or five minutes, it’s an explosion.

It’s as simple as that.

And the post-screening press conference for Elephant confirmed this once again.

When the cast and crew appeared, the journalists stood up again, greeting them with a tsunami of applause, cheers, whistles, and screams. The press room was instantly drowned in a wave of noise, pushing the Cannes Film Festival to its first climax.

Chapter 899: Continuing the Narrative

Roar, roar, roar.

Ahhh, beep, beep, beep.

The news conference at the Cinema Palace was buzzing with activity. Journalists stood up en masse, and the array of media outlets made the scene look like a circus.

This is Cannes—where everything goes crazy for the festival.

Moreover, the flashbulbs were incessant, creating a continuous wave like a summer downpour, the sound of camera shutters overwhelming the film crew.

Clearly, Alex and Eric were nervous. Even though they had experienced the red carpet, facing the frenzied media up close was an entirely different beast. Their stiff expressions gave them away.

Gus was shy and introverted as well, not particularly skilled in handling the press.

So, Anson stepped forward and grabbed the microphone from the table.

“So, do we need to strike a pose, or should we just act natural? This technique works in movies, but I’m not sure how it’ll play out in real life. Are you guys sure?”

Ha-ha, ha-ha-ha.

With a bit of humor, the crowd burst into laughter, and soon the journalists began egging him on—

“Strike a pose!” “Give us something cool!” and other similar requests.

Anson put the microphone down and made a finger-gun gesture with his right hand, glancing down at it as if inspecting a real gun. The room collectively drew a sharp breath.

Anson looked back up at the reporters and mouthed: "Too soon?"

Another round of laughter erupted, accompanied by applause and whistles.

Given that the film was about school violence, striking a James Bond-like pose with a gun was clearly inappropriate. But Anson wasn’t aiming for that—he just wanted to break the ice.

Now, looking back, it wasn’t just Alex and Eric who were laughing, but Gus too.

Gus was clearly still riding the emotional high from the standing ovation the film received; his movements were still stiff from excitement. But Anson’s joke helped relax everyone, and Gus's smile became more natural.

Anson then gathered the four main members of the "Elephant" crew and had them line up with the director in the center, facing the wall of flashing cameras. The shutter sounds were endless, far exceeding what anyone had anticipated.

No one wanted to miss a shot of Anson.

On the red carpet, photographers snapped away because of his popularity—Anson was undoubtedly a media darling. Everyone wanted to capture a moment that could go down in history.

Now, post-screening, it was about quality. The overwhelmingly positive reactions hinted at the film’s success, and the media couldn’t contain themselves.

Another hit?

That "another" spoke volumes about the excitement and disbelief of the media. It was as if they were experiencing déjà vu—this was the third time in a year that Anson had defied expectations, making the press feel like they’d been smacked in the face repeatedly.

Of course, the true quality of “Elephant” would still need to be validated by critics, the market, and audiences once they’d seen the film themselves.

Here, "market" refers to the Cannes Film Market, where distributors from around the world attend to acquire the rights to films. Unlike commercial blockbusters, art films often depend on this process to recoup costs and make a profit.

The future reception of “Elephant” would become clearer after further screenings at Cannes. As for awards, that was another matter entirely.

But one thing was certain—the fervor of the premiere had already guaranteed another success for Anson. The “pretty boy” label might not stick for much longer.

This explains why the flashes refused to stop.

As the smiles of his co-stars grew more strained, Anson stepped in once again, raising his hand to quiet the reporters and signaling for everyone to sit down.

Not just the film crew, but the journalists as well.

Finally, the room calmed down a bit.

But not for long. Once the Q&A session began, the frenzy returned—

Rustle, rustle, rustle.

A forest of raised hands, like a dense birch grove, stretched out before them.

The first question came.

“Anson, can you tell us why you chose this particular suit for the red carpet today?”

The room: ...???

Seriously? Asking about fashion at the Cannes Film Festival is already a bit shallow, but to bring it up right after a film’s explosive premiere?

No one knew whether to feel sorry for Anson, who couldn’t seem to escape his “pretty face” label, or disappointed in the quality of the question.

Is this really the standard of Cannes journalism?

A wave of murmuring spread through the room.

All eyes were on Anson as he spread his hands wide. “I’m used to this one.”

With a touch of self-deprecating humor, he acknowledged the “pretty face” label he couldn’t shake, easing the tension. Then, he turned serious.

“In fact, I did consider wearing something yellow like in the movie, but that really didn’t look cool at all, so I passed.”

...Such honesty.

The room erupted in light laughter.

“In the end, I chose this suit to reflect the theme of the film. The director and I discussed it, and we both thought it was a fitting choice.”

Whoa!

Wait, what?

Anson’s red carpet look wasn’t just about making a fashion statement—it tied into the movie’s theme?

Upon reflection, the answer became clear—

Red. Blood. Violence.

In the film, violence and killing erupt suddenly, but the camera doesn’t linger on the blood. In fact, it deliberately avoids glorifying the gore, maintaining a cold and detached visual style throughout.

And in real life, Anson used his red suit to continue that narrative.

Now, looking closer, the outfits of Gus, Alex, and Eric also featured red elements. Clearly, this was a coordinated effort by the entire team.

This was… truly shocking!

Just as the media was beginning to discuss Anson’s breakthrough in fashion, he had already taken it a step further by merging fashion with film.

The media couldn’t keep up with Anson’s vision.

Immediately, another reporter followed up, “So, the black hair is part of that too?”

Anson nodded. “On the one hand, it distinguishes me from the character in the film, but on the other, it resonates with the movie’s theme. We can’t continue to ignore the elephant in the room.”

A statement. A call to action.

In a bold and rebellious way, he was drawing attention to the issue of school violence. Black symbolized death, red symbolized blood, and when these two colors clashed, they represented violence—perfectly aligning with the film’s message.

Clearly, this wasn’t just about looks—it was a declaration.

This is what it means to be a true fashion icon—

Fashion is not just about style; like any form of art, it should also be a form of expression.

The media needed to reevaluate their snark and envy. They thought Anson was merely riding Cannes’ coattails, perfectly embodying the superficiality of a pretty boy, but they hadn’t realized that the real joke was on them.

Buzz, buzz, buzz.

The press room was in shock.

Chapter 900: Actor's Contour

Splash.

A stone stirs up a thousand ripples.

No one expected that a fashion issue, ridiculed and dismissed by everyone, would suddenly present a completely different answer, steering the conversation in another direction.

Some journalists began to realize their arrogance.

Instinctively, they had labeled Anson as just a pretty face, marveling at his red carpet look while scoffing at the idea of him being a fashion icon. They completely overlooked the fact that all four cast members had red elements in their outfits. It wasn’t that they didn’t notice; they chose to ignore it.

At least until now.

Suddenly, countless thoughts raced through their minds—

So, was Anson's opening ceremony look also carefully planned?

Later, Eve seized the moment and took it further. Not only were fashion magazines like Vogue, GQ, and Elle getting involved, but major publications like The New York Times, The Times, and Le Figaro also interviewed Anson, giving him the chance to discuss his views on fashion and styling.

It spread everywhere.

And not just in North America. France, the UK, Italy, and other major regions followed suit. Capitalizing on the momentum of the Cannes Film Festival, both the film and fashion worlds were rocked.

As a public relations expert, Eve did an excellent job.

But that's another story. For now, the focus returns to the press conference inside the cinema palace, where shockwaves rippled through the room.

Journalists were lost in thought, trying to regroup. Some scrambled to organize their ideas and get the next hot question in, revealing a clear difference in their skills. Some reporters were quick to seize the opportunity, jumping in during a gap and securing a valuable chance to ask a question.

“Anson, I’m from The New York Times. I'd like to ask what made you decide to take on this role in the film. Especially the character Anson—if I may assume, you probably had a chance to play other characters. So why Anson? I mean, that character?”

It was a bit of a tongue-twister.

The room, understanding the awkwardness, burst into friendly laughter.

Even Alex and Eric smiled.

Anson chuckled lightly. “Hey, Nick, I didn’t see you on the red carpet earlier. I thought The New York Times had sent someone else this year…”

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

Nicholas Flynn suddenly felt the sharp gazes of jealousy surround him like arrows, suffocating him.

But Nicholas was equally confused. He wasn’t even that close with Anson—so why was Anson throwing him under the bus?

However, Anson quickly shifted gears.

“…I was hoping you’d say something nice about our film, but it seems I don’t need to worry about that now.”

Ha ha ha.

The room erupted in laughter, the atmosphere lively and relaxed.

After a brief pause, Anson continued.

“Actually, you can just refer to the character by name. We know the difference between the characters and ourselves. Even if there’s some confusion, it doesn’t matter. After all, when making movies, we’re aware of the risks.”

Ha ha, ha ha ha!

The crowd burst into applause and laughter.

With self-deprecation and humor, his playful tone lifted the room’s spirits even higher.

“I chose this movie because I believe we can use it to give voice to something important. I really, really want to speak out through the medium of film.”

“And the first director willing to let me speak was Gus. So, it’s not about the movie; it’s about Gus Van Sant. I need to thank him for giving me the opportunity to be heard.”

“As for the role, I didn’t need to be picky. Any of them would’ve worked. Though I admit, I was a bit envious of Alex’s character. But I wasn’t jealous, really.”

The first part of Anson’s answer was loaded with meaning, poking fun at his "pretty face" label. People often only see his appearance and refuse to listen to his voice—not just the audience but also the industry itself.

In reality, Anson is a thoughtful and multifaceted actor. He’s much more than just a handsome face.

Naturally, thoughts of Anson’s recent work on the Charlie Kaufman project surfaced, along with the deeper thought behind his fashion choices. The outline of Anson as an actor became clearer with just a few strokes.

In the second part of his answer, the tone shifted. The playful and lighthearted vibe came through once more, filling the press room with soft laughter, creating an easy-going atmosphere.

Then, Anson smoothly turned his attention to the director.

“So, director, why did I end up with this role?”

Seamlessly, Anson shifted the spotlight to Gus.

Gus was slightly caught off guard.

He had been quietly listening, but now, thrust into the limelight, he began to earnestly explain since the question was about the movie.

“I like the youthful energy that Anson brings, a kind of complex yet unique aura.”

“He’s incredibly young—so young it’s unbelievable, like a newborn. But at the same time, it feels like he has an old soul, one that’s seen too much. He understands things in a way that others don’t. Like this moment right now—I’m completely lost, but he’s handling it perfectly.”

Anson: ???

He had just managed to pass the attention to the director, yet the director was turning it back to him?

The whispers and gazes in the room turned to Anson again, leaving him pretending to play dead.

But Gus was oblivious, continuing.

“In a way, Anson’s character is the soul of the movie.”

“He’s sensitive and delicate but also strong and brave. Like many teenagers, he may act foolish at times, but his gentleness can be felt by everyone around him.”

“In the film, he’s a peripheral figure, but we see that everyone likes him. That’s why Alex and Eric try to warn him.”

“He’s young and doesn’t know how to handle the complexities, but he feels the sadness and pain behind the events. It’s not as simple as it seems.”

“I didn’t make this movie to find answers or provide solutions, because I don’t have any. But Anson represents my response.”

“And for such a character, I think Anson was the perfect choice.”

“Except that he’s way too handsome to be playing a school outcast. Otherwise, he’s perfect.”

Gus ended with a smile.

The reporters, a beat slow to react, burst into laughter once they realized Gus was making a joke.

Just as Anson thought the focus would shift to Gus or someone else, giving him a moment to rest and sip some water, the next question came back to him.

“Anson, I’d like to ask…”

Anson nearly choked on his water, fumbling to set down the bottle. Alex, sitting next to him, quickly handed him a couple of tissues.

Anson nodded in thanks, hurriedly wiping his mouth. “I hope none of you just took pictures of me creating new blackmail material.”

The journalists weren’t the only ones laughing—even Alex couldn’t hold back.

Who wouldn’t like Anson?

The reporter who had stood up was a straightforward person, gripping the microphone and standing frozen in place. Once the laughter subsided, he repeated his question, determined not to miss his chance.

“Anson, since you're the only professional actor in the cast, could you talk about your understanding of the character and the atmosphere during filming?”