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Chapter 871: Guessing Game

Second. Second. Still second.

For three consecutive weeks, "Roar Hey" has been stuck at the second spot on the Billboard singles chart.

However, as much as it might make one sigh, there's not much to argue about when it comes to the chart rankings—

Currently, the track firmly holding the number one spot on the Billboard singles chart is none other than "In Da Club" by 50 Cent.

50 Cent, who grew up in Queens, New York, was the typical kid from the ghetto, raised on the streets, and immersed in all sorts of criminal activities until he found his focus in life in his twenties and became passionate about rap.

In 1999, 50 Cent signed with Columbia Records and completed an album, but just before the album's release, he was shot. Upon learning of this, Columbia Records not only canceled the album's release but also terminated his contract.

Afterward, 50 Cent began creating independently, staying active in the underground music scene until the summer of 2002, when he caught the attention of Eminem and Dr. Dre. He then got another chance to sign with a label.

When 50 Cent finally released his debut album this February, he was already 28 years old.

However!

As soon as this album hit the market, it caused a sensation throughout North America, selling 870,000 copies in just five days. This made it the fastest-selling debut album since the establishment of the sales statistics system in 1991.

Without a doubt, it took the market by storm.

"In Da Club" is the lead single from this album.

The single was a massive hit, climbing the Billboard singles chart for eight weeks before claiming the number one spot and beginning its reign.

When "Roar Hey" was on its ascent, no other competitors could shake "In Da Club" from its position. The latter held the top spot for two whole months, with no one able to touch the throne.

Undoubtedly, "Roar Hey" emerged as a bright and surprising highlight; however, in the face of the champion's throne, it seemed to lack something—

Stuck in second place repeatedly.

Even so, "Roar Hey" making an unexpected entry into the public eye was already a grand miracle, and it was hard to ask for more; it deserves applause.

So, what's next?

Will the reign of "In Da Club" surpass ten weeks? Will "Roar Hey" end 50 Cent's long-standing domination and claim the top spot? If not "Roar Hey," then who will take over the throne?

From the ghetto came 50 Cent, and from out of nowhere came August 31st. Each group of artists has its own story, and the journey of these two singles sweeping across America is full of tales.

The next chapter is even more eagerly anticipated.

To be continued, unfolding as we speak.

The bustling eyes gather around, and the clamor never stops.

So, what about the band?

Or more precisely, what about Anson?

Anson and the August 31st band left Paris and headed south.

Initially, neither Anson nor the band members realized the far-reaching impact of their Paris performance—

Their show in Berlin also caused a minor sensation, comparable in scale to Paris; but subsequent performances didn't differ much.

During their time on the European continent, the band gradually got used to Anson being just Anson, with the aura of a movie star quietly hidden. It took some time to adjust, and they continued on their journey.

However, this didn't last long. The band soon realized that things were off-track when TV stations showed up and the police got involved. The "Anson Wood" halo quietly returned to its familiar figure.

The band didn't stay "quiet" for long before being swept into the storm—

Wherever they performed on the street, crowds gathered early, three hundred or five hundred people, densely packed. Traffic jams were an issue, but the bigger problem was that the band couldn't even get to the performance site.

The main performers were blocked outside the stage, looking at the bustling crowd in front of them, finding it both amusing and absurd.

Soon, the band identified the key issue:

They couldn't announce the performance location and time in advance, or they'd be surrounded.

Previously, the band's street performances were so unnoticed that they were saddened; now, their street performances are too lively and crowded, which turns out to be a problem too.

The key is that the band's primary goal in doing a street tour across Europe was promotion. They couldn't keep the performance location a secret like a flash mob surprise; it wouldn't work.

So, Anson came up with an idea—

Guerrilla performances.

Upon arriving in each city, the band would announce the street performance time in advance but not the location. The latest location would only be refreshed on the website ten minutes before the performance began.

Additionally, the band's street performance would only last one hour.

After an hour, regardless of the crowd size, the band would leave.

If the website activity didn't attract much attention and the audience was sparse, the band wouldn't mind. They'd still give their best performance, just like their previous street tour.

If the website activity exploded in popularity and the live audience was overwhelming, the band would enjoy the show just the same and perform with the audience.

Bit by bit, the August 31st band's street performances became a surprise event—

Regardless of whether people lived in the city or even in the time zone, or if they had time to go to the scene to watch the performance, thousands of netizens eagerly waited on the band's tour website to refresh the location and see where the band was performing.

Once the performance started, someone would immediately post photos on the forum or write about their experience, impatiently sharing their experiences.

Then, it evolved into a collective carnival, a grand event for netizens.

Not just music lovers or Anson's fans, more and more onlookers joined in, like watching a live event.

The situation deviated from the track, gradually evolving from a simple street performance to a special event celebrated by a small group of netizens.

Intentionally or unintentionally, the August 31st band's street tour in Europe was becoming one of the global internet's hottest events of 2003, generating countless traffic—

In 2003, the concept of the "cloud" hadn't been born yet. Cloud watching, cloud travel, and cloud concerts didn't exist at all, so media experts and communication scholars were shocked and puzzled, not knowing how to perceive or respond to this event.

"Flash mob surprise event" could at least be traced, with some rules and experiences to sum up, which other marketing teams could copy and paste; but what's happening now goes far beyond the times, overturning concepts and perceptions, sparking widespread discussions.

A key question: Is this a one-time event, or can it be replicated?

However.

There is no answer, at least not at this stage.

The netizens were just joining in the fun, not realizing they were making history, but communication scholars and news experts turned to Anson:

Similar news events occurred repeatedly around Anson. Unless Anson was the chosen one, it couldn't be a coincidence.

Once? Twice? This has already happened three, four, or five times, and each time it breaks expectations and norms, already surpassing common understanding.

So, what's the reason?

*Chapter 872: Azure Coast*

On one side, Anson had no idea that he was becoming a subject of study in journalism and communication, nor did he realize he was becoming a part of the era’s legacy.

On the other side, August 31st Band's European street tour continued south—

There were surprises, joy, and touching moments.

Everything came back to music and performance, truly allowing the people of Europe to feel the charm and energy of the August 31st Band's music.

Slowly, the street performances began to take on the vibe of a full-fledged tour. Even though the performances weren’t ticketed, they had the atmosphere of a ticketed concert.

The band continued south into Spain, then wandered briefly through Spain and Portugal, before returning to France and heading east. Afterward, the band announced that the street performances would take a break for two weeks, entering a short rest period.

No further explanation was needed; anyone looking at a map could guess the reason—

Nice.

Located on the French Riviera in southern France.

Clang, clang.

The train car gently swayed, and golden sunlight poured through the windows, spilling onto the table. Even though the air conditioning was on, the warmth of the sun could still be felt on his arm, as Anson lazily lounged in the seat, quietly closing his eyes, slowly melting into the golden light.

Whoosh.

Murmurs of awe and admiration drifted into his ears. Anson cracked his eyes open slightly, and through the endless golden glow, he could see a vast expanse of clear, vibrant blue unfolding before him.

Azure, captivating.

Still half-asleep, the scenery blurred as if he could see marine creatures playfully chasing each other beneath the sparkling ripples. But with a blink, the minty blue hue quietly receded into a deep, endless abyss—peacock blue, navy, deep blue—every ripple disappeared into the infinite blue.

Even the golden sheen on the ocean's surface took on a faint shade of watery blue.

The whole world had slipped into blue.

No words were needed; everyone knew they had arrived at the Azure Coast.

Through his view, Lily pressed herself against the window, her eyes wide with amazement, staring in awe at the sight before her. Sunlight gleamed in her eyes, bringing tears, but she couldn’t bear to blink, staring blankly at the descending sea like a mesmerized fool.

Miles leaned forward slightly, turning his head to gaze out the window. Though his expression was neutral, he couldn’t help but stare, holding his breath.

Only Connor was different.

He slouched back in his seat, mouth wide open, drooling as he slept so soundly that even a fly could have entered without him noticing.

But that wasn’t surprising—

Street performances, happening three to four days a week for six consecutive weeks, had taken a toll on their energy and stamina.

Including Anson himself, all four band members were completely exhausted.

Now that they could finally relax, with no performances to worry about for the next two weeks, their bodies and minds could no longer be restrained.

Entering the Azure Coast meant only one thing—Cannes was within reach.

The 56th Cannes Film Festival was set to open the next day. Journalists and fans from around the world were flocking to the small town of Cannes on the Azure Coast.

When people talk about Europe’s top three film festivals, Berlin is known for its political edge, Venice for its long history, and Cannes for its widespread fame.

In 2003, the global film market was booming, with the three European film festivals holding their own, equally prominent. However, Cannes held a slight edge thanks to being home to Europe’s largest film market. Cannes showcased diversity and inclusiveness, more willing to embrace cultures from other countries than Venice, and more willing to cater to the commercial market than Berlin. This gave it a slight advantage.

In terms of marketing, Cannes led the way, even if only by a small margin.

Every year, over 400,000 people flocked to this small town for the annual film event.

But in reality, Cannes is a small town with a permanent population of less than 70,000.

There’s no airport here, so the only way to reach Cannes is to fly into Nice and then take a train or car for a 20-minute journey.

The town itself has no major industries, no bustling tourism, and no breathtaking natural landscapes. The world knows Cannes for its three “S’s”—Sun, Sea, and Sex—but those who visit quickly realize it’s mostly hype.

For sunbathing, Monaco’s yachts offer the most luxurious spots.

For the sea, Èze offers the best panoramic view of the Mediterranean’s azure blue.

For beaches, Nice has dozens to choose from.

In fact, there are countless more scenic and relaxing spots along the French Riviera than Cannes, which is just an ordinary small town with rough sand and scorching sun.

If it weren’t for the Cannes Film Festival, this town would see little traffic throughout the year. Yet, thanks to the festival, Cannes had become a shining gem on the Azure Coast, rivaling Nice.

Every May, as spring begins to withdraw from the Northern Hemisphere and summer’s heat hasn’t fully arrived, Cannes draws global attention. Movie lovers from all over the world gather together—

Parties. Celebrations. Vacation. Revelry.

From this perspective, Cannes is indeed a great place to unwind.

Coming up next, the movie “Elephant,” starring Anson, was set to premiere at Cannes.

Originally, "Elephant" was already a hot topic for various reasons. Now, after more than a month of buzz, anticipation had soared, making it the center of attention.

Anson was about to return to his role as an actor, bringing a new work to the world.

It just so happened that the August 31st Band could also use a break. Miles and the rest of the band had followed Anson to the stunning Azure Coast.

Everything was going according to plan.

“Wow.”

Lily had lost count of how many times she had gasped in amazement. Only when the train finally pulled into the station, and the view was blocked, did she reluctantly tear her eyes away.

“Wow.”

“Anson, you can be as busy as you need over the next few days. Don’t worry about us. We’re going to have the best time here. This place is heaven.”

“I finally understand why everyone is always talking about the Azure Coast.”

For once, Lily seemed genuinely excited.

Miles motioned for her to lower her voice, then looked at Anson, gesturing towards him—

His hat.

“You should try to stay low-key.”

But Anson remained unfazed. “The reporters are probably all at Nice International Airport. No one would take a train to Cannes like I did.”

*Chapter 873: Too Much of a Good Thing*

Miles' concerns were not without reason.

Returning from a singer to an actor, the weight of the name "Anson Wood" carried a completely different significance.

Of course, it's important not to overstate things. This is Cannes, the paradise of art films, and idols like Anson have little credibility or value here. He might even face disdain, dismissal, or exclusion.

However, no matter what, Cannes is ultimately a world of film. Whether they like him, hate him, or are indifferent, Anson is always the center of attention wherever he goes. They’ve already experienced this firsthand.

Controversy brings attention.

With attention comes the need for constant vigilance.

From the moment his foot stepped on Cannes soil, Anson entered the spotlight, where every move could be exposed to the media.

Moreover, the band's tour was no secret, and all eyes were on Anson. Many probably already anticipated his arrival in Cannes, waiting to snap a photo as soon as possible.

Instinctively, Miles grew nervous and signaled Anson to lower his cap.

However, Anson wasn't worried.

The reason wasn't about him, but about the Cannes Film Festival.

To reach Cannes, unless traveling by train from Paris, you had to land at Nice International Airport before taking transportation to the festival.

Because of this, Nice Airport is considered the gateway to Cannes.

When the festival opens, journalists closely monitor the airport to catch the stars as they arrive.

During the closing, they continue watching the airport for the stars attending the closing ceremony and awards gala.

Before departing for Europe, Edgar and Eve had asked Anson for his thoughts:

After the tour ends, should he return to Paris and then fly into Nice?

The reason was simple:

The final piece of his “fashion image.”

From the promotion of "Catch Me If You Can," everything was planned to firmly establish Anson's fashion icon status. Even the Golden Globe Awards were part of this strategy.

Initially, the final stop was supposed to be the Oscars.

The Oscars were meant to mark the completion of phase one, and then phase two would begin: maintaining his image through everyday appearances.

However, an unexpected turn came when Anson missed the Oscars. Edgar and Eve were ready to move to phase two, but the Cannes Film Festival presented a new opportunity.

It was an opportunity that couldn’t be missed.

But Cannes is a bit different from the Oscars, and the plan had to be adjusted.

For the Oscars, the focus was on the awards ceremony and the Vanity Fair Oscar Party, which required just two outfits.

Cannes, however, is different.

Appearances at Cannes, press conferences, film premieres, media interviews, and Anson's daily life at the festival—each moment was an opportunity.

Additionally, arriving at Nice International Airport, attending brand-sponsored parties, and so on, were all occasions that required careful wardrobe choices. Every outfit needed to be well thought out, with a cohesive image in mind.

It all required long-term planning.

In other words, if Anson chose to land at Nice Airport, as Miles feared, his Cannes experience would begin the moment he touched down.

But Anson declined—

It was too deliberate, too much, and would have the opposite effect.

The more he emphasized the fashion image, the more likely he’d fall into the trap of being seen as a “Barbie doll”—lacking uniqueness, lacking authenticity, and lacking impact.

The general public isn’t foolish:

Seeing Anson appear meticulously dressed every time, changing outfits not just daily but possibly three times a day, it would become clear that he was merely a mannequin for others' designs.

This wouldn’t be a disaster, but it would put a question mark on Anson's personal fashion sense.

At the core, Anson would still be seen as just a pretty face.

The plan had been for Anson to shed his "pretty boy" image, to gradually gain his own style and personality. But now, that progress might be undone.

The key to the success of the "flash surprise events" lay in their spontaneity, their natural feel, and how well they integrated Anson’s input, finding a balance between formal and casual.

Cannes needed the same approach.

So, Anson rejected the grand debut plan. Instead, he wanted to blend into the festival more naturally, in his own way.

Of course, things rarely go as planned. The band’s street performances were drawing attention, and Anson’s movements had likely already been figured out. But Anson wasn't too worried. There are over thirty trains running between Nice and Cannes daily, practically one every hour—

Compared to Nice Airport, journalists would find it much harder to spot Anson in the crowded train station.

This was one of the reasons Anson chose to travel by train.

For his first trip to Cannes, he saw himself less as an actor promoting his film and more as a fan attending the festival.

Rather than being concerned about the media frenzy, Anson was more interested in the festival lineup—

Nevertheless, he did pull his baseball cap down slightly, casting a shadow over most of his face. But his slight smile, brimming with excitement, was still visible.

“The screenings should be out by now, right? Are there any films you guys are excited about?”

“To be honest, I’m really looking forward to Téchiné.”

Lily responded, “Who?”

“André Téchiné,” Anson said, “My Favorite Season, Wild Reeds, The Brontë Sisters. Though he has many great films and has been to Cannes multiple times, my favorite is Wild Reeds, which wasn’t nominated for anything.”

Seeing the confused looks on Lily and Miles’ faces, Anson shrugged. “Lars von Trier, you’ve heard of him, right?”

Lily smiled, “Ah, Dancer in the Dark, right?”

Anson nodded eagerly, “This time, he’s worked with Nicole Kidman on a film called Dogville. It’s definitely worth the anticipation.”

As he spoke, the train slowly came to a stop.

Anson patted Connor on the shoulder.

Connor sat up straight, “I’m good, I’m ready.”

He stood up quickly, rubbing his eyes, only to see his friends grinning. He blinked, trying to shake off the sleepiness. “So, what now?”

Anson chuckled, “Grab your bags, we’ve arrived.”

Connor took a deep breath, “Alright, no problem.”

As they stepped off, Anson quickly grabbed Connor by the shoulder, turning to flash an apologetic smile behind him. “Sorry about that.”

It took a second for Connor to realize he had nearly bumped into a short woman in her thirties. He quickly turned to apologize as well.

The woman stepped aside, waving her hand, “It’s fine, no worries.”

However, as she looked up, she froze for a moment, her gaze briefly lost in thought.

*Chapter 874: An Adventure*

Emannuele Burrill was slightly lost in thought, considering her packed schedule upon arriving in Cannes:

Non-stop.

As a professional photographer, she was supposed to arrive in Cannes two days ago to prepare for the upcoming two weeks of hectic work. But due to delays with her shoot for the Italian edition of Vogue, she only managed to rush here today.

For the next few days, she figured she wouldn’t even have time to eat.

Thinking about this made Emannuele a bit anxious; however, as a woman in a field dominated by men, if she wanted to break through, she had to be stricter with herself and work even harder. Missing any opportunity was simply not an option.

Not only could she not miss a chance, but she also needed to complete every task to 100% perfection.

The work for the Italian edition of Vogue was like that, and so was the work for the Cannes Film Festival. For Emannuele, who was in the prime of her career, this was a rare opportunity.

Taking a deep breath, Emannuele hurriedly prepared to get off the train. When she noticed a shadow blocking her path, she almost couldn’t stop in time and nearly collided head-on with it.

Luckily, the man’s friend stepped in just in time.

Emannuele didn’t dare imagine what it would mean if her right hand were injured.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” Emannuele quickly called out.

Looking up to thank him, she found herself staring into a strikingly handsome face under a San Francisco 49ers baseball cap. The words caught in her throat as her eyes slightly widened.

She froze for a moment—he looked familiar.

But her mind was too cluttered with the day’s hustle and bustle to dwell on it, and before she could snap out of it, the young man and his friend had already walked away.

“Oh, and there’s Ceylan, Nuri-Bilge Ceylan. Trust me, even though he’s still young, he’s definitely one to watch.”

“I’m really curious about the work he’s bringing this time. I wonder if I’ll have the chance to see it…”

Excitement, joy, youthful energy.

Like all the young people arriving in Cannes, there was an undeniable sense of passion and happiness in their voices, their expressions radiating with optimism.

That face—though only a brief glimpse—lingered in Emannuele’s mind. Her gaze involuntarily followed his silhouette as he moved through the crowd.

Wait, is that—

He was wearing a white T-shirt under a light blue striped linen shirt, paired with dark blue shorts. The shirt's lower buttons were fastened loosely, with the hem casually tucked into his waistband. He completed the look with dark blue boat shoes.

The Mediterranean holiday vibe flowed effortlessly, simple yet elegant, casual yet sophisticated.

Even the seemingly out-of-place baseball cap added a unique flair. Unlike the traditional round-brimmed straw hats often worn on European holidays, this cap added a touch of youthful rebellion and flair. The combination of long sleeves and shorts was another contradiction that worked, breaking conventions and standing out.

As the brim of the cap tilted up, a bright and dazzling smile spread across his face, as if the blue skies and seas outside had dimmed in comparison.

Amidst the bustling crowd, Emannuele’s eyes were immediately drawn to him.

Her tired and foggy mind finally started working again—

She quickly pulled her camera from her backpack.

It wasn’t a high-end, large-lens camera, but a retro film camera, compact and easy to carry, perfect for her on-the-go job.

Emannuele didn’t rush. She framed the figure in her lens, grabbed her luggage, and swiftly navigated through the crowd, following him.

Then, he stopped, standing still as if looking for someone.

In the busy Cannes train station, the hot air seemed palpable, even indoors. A beam of sunlight filtered through the windows, landing gently on his shoulders, softly outlining the contours of his face and jaw.

Despite the throng of people, his height and build made him stand out, effortlessly rising above the crowd. The surrounding figures blurred as all attention naturally converged on him.

In that moment, the only thing visible in Emannuele’s viewfinder was him.

Time seemed to slow.

Emannuele paused, raised her camera, and focused on him.

Adjusting the focus, she waited.

In a fleeting moment, he glanced back, and she pressed the shutter, capturing time and light in one frame.

Click.

Emannuele held her breath. All her exhaustion and weariness melted away, and nothing else mattered. It was as if she could hear the sound of her blood rushing through her veins, feeling a surge of passion all over again.

The next second—

He seemed to have found his target, his lazy but warm smile curving upward as he hoisted a shoulder bag over one shoulder, raised his hand, and waved.

At that moment, an image from a movie flashed through Emannuele’s mind—

The scene in The Talented Mr. Ripley where Ripley arrives on a Mediterranean island, finding an easygoing job, unaware that he was stepping onto a dark path.

An atmosphere, a vibe, a feeling.

Words couldn’t accurately describe it, but it effortlessly submerged the heart.

Click.

Emannuele pressed the shutter again.

Anson Wood.

Even though Anson had been overexposed globally, seeing him in person still brought a wave of admiration.

His clothes were just clothes, nothing special. But on Anson, re-arranged and combined, they exuded a unique charm, making it impossible to look away from his effortless charisma.

Who would have thought that such a casual, laid-back outfit could still turn heads? Even in a bustling crowd, he easily stood out, making everyone around him fade into the background.

Suddenly, an idea popped into Emannuele’s mind—

The American edition of Vogue had previously done a feature on Anson’s fashion choices during the Catch Me If You Can press tour. So why not do a European version now? Maybe the French or Italian editions of Vogue would be interested?

It was a bit risky, though. After all, they had already done a similar feature, and doing it again might seem repetitive. Plus, she wasn’t sure how long Anson would be staying in Cannes or if the band’s tour would continue afterward.

But another thought sparked in her mind—

Recently, Europe had been abuzz with talk of the August 31st band’s tour. People hadn’t anticipated such a format and were utterly captivated. But had anyone paid attention to Anson’s street performance outfits?

These details weren’t like those of a concert, carefully curated and designed, but rather more reflective of Anson’s personal taste. Could there be something to explore here?

Emannuele wasn’t sure. No one had tried this before, so it could be a brilliant idea or a complete disaster. But deep down, an irresistible urge gnawed at her.

She looked up again, watching Anson’s figure disappear into the distance—

Her blood pulsed with excitement. Could this really be normal?

*Chapter 875: Calm Before the Storm*

At the Cannes train station, people bustled about, the scene was exceptionally busy.

Noah stood diagonally across from the main entrance, glanced at his watch again, then quickly looked up, fully focused on the doorway, not wanting to miss a single person emerging.

And then.

Noah immediately spotted the tall, upright figure, effortlessly picking him out of the crowd. It wasn’t difficult at all.

A surge of excitement filled him.

"Anson!"

Noah shouted, and as soon as the words left his mouth, he noticed several confused glances gathering around him, following his gaze toward the entrance.

Anson: …

He quickly lowered his head, using the brim of his baseball cap to completely cover his face.

Connor, acting swiftly, raised his right hand high and even jumped up a little, flashing an excited expression in response to Noah's call.

Seeing this, those onlookers dispersed as quickly as they had gathered, suspecting nothing.

Miles felt his heart, which had been stuck in his throat, finally return to his chest. He looked at Anson with lingering fear.

But what he saw was Anson looking as calm as ever, not a hint of nervousness on his face. In fact, there was a slight smile on his lips. “Should we find a restaurant first? How about seafood?”

Miles was left speechless, choking on his words. "You!"

Anson lifted his chin slightly, showing a look of realization. "You're right. The restaurants near the train station are just tourist traps. Not trustworthy. Let’s wait a bit longer and find a really good spot in town. We can’t waste the fresh seafood here.”

Miles couldn't hold it in any longer, shaking his head in both frustration and resignation. As expected, they were the only ones worrying unnecessarily.

Anson patted Miles on the shoulder, "Relax. Relax! As long as you stay calm and composed, no one will suspect a thing."

With that, Anson lifted his head again and walked toward Noah.

Noah, now visibly tense, kept his mouth tightly shut, not daring to speak to avoid causing trouble. He even held his breath, his face quickly turning red as he waved the sign in his hand, which read:

Miles. Lily. Connor.

But no mention of Anson.

Seeing this, Anson burst into laughter, quickly approaching Noah and patting him on the shoulder. "Breathe, man in black, breathe!"

Only then did Noah emerge from his self-imposed underwater silence, taking big, gulping breaths, his simple, honest expression causing Connor to break out in laughter as well.

Miles lagged behind a little, looking around. The train station remained crowded with people coming and going, yet none of them paid any attention to Anson.

In that moment, Miles wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved or not. Was this a good thing?

Logically, it was.

It wasn’t just Miles. Lily and Connor had also been worried about the situation getting out of control. After all, the band’s guerrilla-style street performances across Europe had already become public knowledge, often causing a frenzy wherever they went. And now, in Cannes, where film lovers gathered, things could easily get even crazier.

After the traffic chaos in Paris and the crowd surge in Madrid—though no one was hurt, the risk was real—none of them could shake their anxiety about things spiraling out of control again.

But nothing happened.

Everything was just as Anson had said—no reporters, no excited fans, nothing. It was all calm, just a typical day before the official start of the Cannes Film Festival. The passersby didn’t even notice Anson’s presence.

This... was a good thing, right?

Yet, upon second thought, was it really?

Cannes was still Cannes, unlike the street performances they’d been doing. This was a town dedicated to film. For the next ten days, everything would revolve around movies. And this year, Anson had a film competing in the main competition, marking his return as an actor and a megastar.

And yet, no one recognized him?

Was that a little disappointing?

Whether as an actor, a musician, or just an ordinary person, leaving a stage filled with applause and laughter and returning to an empty room brings an inevitable sense of emptiness. That feeling can easily drag a person’s soul into darkness. It’s a normal experience anyone might face.

Humans, after all, are full of contradictions.

Being noticed is stressful, but being ignored can be just as frustrating.

When there’s no attention, people long for it. But when there’s too much attention, they crave privacy and peace.

We go back and forth, seemingly never fully understanding our own desires. Or maybe, we yearn for something but reject the costs that come with it.

The truth is, things are never simple. You gain some, you lose some. There are no rewards without sacrifices. Behind every glamorous life, something precious must be given up. Even the queen in Snow White isn't exempt from the law of conservation of energy.

With a slight pause, Miles realized the contradiction within himself.

He looked up and saw Lily wearing a bitter smile, clearly sharing the same thoughts. She nodded toward something ahead.

Following her gaze, Miles saw Anson’s back, looking relaxed and eager, completely oblivious to his surroundings.

Lily leaned in slightly, shaking her head gently, "Looks like we still have a lot to learn."

Miles chuckled, exhaling slowly as he regained his composure. "Keep your feet on the ground. Keep your feet on the ground!" He needed the reminder.

Shaking off his thoughts, Miles and Lily quickly caught up, leaving the train station and stepping into the golden sunlight of Cannes, blending into the crowd.

Connor eyed the black business van in front of him, pretending to be disappointed. “What happened to the convertible?”

Though clearly a joke, Noah earnestly replied, “Convertibles don’t have air conditioning. They’re not practical for getting around Cannes—they’re mostly for show.”

Connor: ...

Lily laughed mercilessly at Connor’s expense. “Low profile, remember? We’re trying to stay low-key.”

Noah, completely unaware of the joke, continued seriously, “If you really want a convertible, I can rent one for you.

Cannes has plenty of rental agencies for that. All the cars you see driving along the coast, they’re all rented by tourists.”

“I thought you didn’t want to be like a tourist, but if you’d like the experience, it’s easy.”

Miles turned to Connor with a deadpan expression. “Tourist.”

That look, as if he were inspecting a curious object.

Connor looked up at the sky in silent despair. He wanted to explain to Noah that it was just a joke, but it felt like the moment had passed.

And, seeing Noah’s earnest expression, Connor had a sinking feeling that any explanation might just dig him a deeper hole.

What to do?

Connor looked at Anson, almost in tears. “Where exactly did you find this guy?”

Anson struggled to contain his laughter, shrugging with a wide grin as he spread his arms.

Connor: …