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Chapter 856: The Travel Map

In a Yahoo forum, the text was in German, but Camilla happened to know a bit of German. Although she wasn’t as fluent as she was in Spanish and Italian, she could still grasp the general meaning, despite some hiccups.

Simply put, it was a reply to a post.

The poster saw a discussion about a band performing at Berlin's Alexanderplatz. He mentioned how much he loved it, not only buying the band’s album but also digging deeper into their other performances, which led to an unexpected discovery—

The band had a website that fully documented their street performances across Europe.

The link in the post was to that website.

Camilla, excited, clicked the link immediately.

A beat too late, she became wary. What if it was a phishing or virus site? Why hadn't she been more cautious?

But now, the site was already loading, and it seemed too late for regrets.

Slowly, very slowly, the page began to load before her eyes.

It was real.

Not a trojan or scam website, but the actual official site of the band—

On August 31st, the "Midnight in Summer" tour across Europe was mapped out.

The website's page was a map of Europe, and the background showed a sunset, where day and night met at the horizon of an endless ocean, painted with radiant hues of blue and red, filling the world with a burning glow—

Blazing intensely.

On the map of Europe, cities were connected like stars, with both familiar large cities and unknown small towns linked together. It was clear from the lines that the band was—

Singing as they traveled.

The band didn’t follow a clear plan. It wasn’t so much a concert tour as it was a road trip, moving along, enjoying the journey's sights.

When hovering the mouse over a city, a video box would pop up, showcasing the band’s performance in that city.

The first stop: Oslo.

Curious, Camilla clicked on it and saw a video with modest quality and unprofessional camera angles. She immediately realized that this must have been filmed by the band themselves, documenting their summer journey.

Just now, in the subway station, Camilla vaguely remembered seeing the band with a portable camera; did they have one during the café performance?

She couldn't recall clearly because her memory of the rest of the day was fuzzy.

At this moment, Paris' landmarks remained dark, not yet lit.

Camilla began watching the street performance videos, one after another. She initially thought she’d watch just one or two but found she couldn’t stop—

It wasn’t just about the street performances. The videos also captured snippets of their daily life, casually and fragmentedly documenting the band's road trip.

Finally, Camilla understood why the forum poster had given it a "five-star recommendation."

Twenty years later, the internet had evolved through several generations, from text blogs to social networks, video blogs, and finally short video snippets that permeated everyday life—

Overexposure had become a new subject in the digital world.

But back then, this kind of content was new and even pioneering.

Far from overexposure, there was still a strong air of mystery. People knew almost nothing about the world behind the stage, behind the movies, or beyond the spotlight. Artists remained distant, high above the crowd. That’s why Anson's decision to show his real side sparked so much discussion at the time.

Now, this little website had gotten ahead of reality shows, showing glimpses of life and what lay beyond the stage.

It was real, intimate, and ordinary.

A mere three- to five-minute video would record a slice of life, yet these small moments unknowingly revealed the most natural, authentic sides of the band.

Not superstar icons shining on stage, but a group of young people chasing their dreams.

And along the way, Camilla could feel their hardships.

It wasn’t all applause and adoration; far from it. Being overlooked was more often the norm. An entire afternoon's performance might attract only two or three people.

Yet they still played with enthusiasm and passion, fueled by nothing but a burning desire to keep going.

In fact, it wasn’t just the street performances—the website's videos had equally low views—

Camilla knew this firsthand. After searching around the web, she still couldn’t find the site on her own and only found the link through the forum post.

Like Alice falling down the rabbit hole.

This website was quietly hidden in the vast sea of the internet, yet it sparkled like the treasure of Atlantis, waiting for the right person to discover it.

Camilla’s blood began to boil once again.

Video after video, she couldn’t stop watching.

City after city, she watched as the band progressed—from novices to seasoned performers, from struggling to even more struggling—always carrying with them a sense of curiosity and adventure, singing their way through life and transforming their dreams into reality, all while keeping their youthful energy alive.

Through these videos, when Camilla thought back to the performance she saw that afternoon, the band members’ images began to overlap with the real people she was seeing on the screen. Those everyday, seemingly trivial fragments of life gradually outlined the personalities of each band member, bringing them to life.

Camilla felt as if they had become her friends.

Friends she’d known for a long, long time.

At first, Camilla just wanted to confirm if this Anson was the same Anson; but slowly, that question no longer mattered, and she completely forgot her initial purpose.

Silently, she became fully immersed, traveling and adventuring with them.

Of course, the journey wasn’t all smooth sailing. There were arguments and rifts between the band members, conflicts that even affected their performances. There were moments of bitterness, disappointment, confusion, and struggle—

Standing on empty streets, getting soaked in the rain mid-performance, traveling with no sign of hope in sight, singing passionately only to feel like they were singing alone, finishing a show with no audience, and feeling too exhausted to even speak.

All of this was real. Their struggles and worries were real, but they never gave up. They kept moving forward.

What struck her most was—

After finishing a street performance in a small town, where an entire afternoon of playing only attracted three people—two of whom were a mother and her three-year-old child who watched them with curious eyes, as if observing clowns.

They argued—whether it was worth performing in such small towns. In the end, the four band members stopped speaking to one another.

The next day, they all overslept, rushing frantically to catch their train. The cumbersome cello required all four of them to work together, silently helping one another without saying a word, even without a glance.

They sprinted, drenched in sweat. The camera couldn’t capture their faces, just the blurred, hurried footage of their race.

They made it to the train just in time, out of breath and sweaty, standing in the connection between train cars. The camera still didn’t focus on any of them, but you could hear their joyous laughter in the audio, echoing over the clatter of the train tracks.

At that moment, all the conflicts no longer mattered.

This was youth.

*Chapter 857: Midsummer Midnight*

Camilla couldn’t help but think that if there were a film crew following the band, documenting the journey like a documentary, it would be captivating and exciting to watch.

But then again, it might not feel as real. Perhaps it was better this way—simple, raw, full of surprises, with the journey itself revealing their true selves.

The imperfections, in a way, became the most beautiful part of this story.

Without realizing it, Camilla had become deeply immersed, crying and laughing along with the band, feeling their confusion and loss, running and wandering with them, and basking in the sweat of their youth.

So, does it really matter if this Anson is the Anson Wood?

Of course not.

But then again, maybe it does matter in a way. After all, it's hard to ignore.

Camilla never imagined that Anson had this side to him. Even after achieving so much success in film, he was still willing to perform on street corners, where no one knew him. And not just once or twice, but city after city, consistently.

If people didn’t recognize him, he wouldn’t mention it. If they did, he would casually confirm it and then return to the performance.

It was hard to believe. No promotion across the whole of Europe, and the band’s records and tour website were hidden in the vast sea of the internet.

But Anson didn’t care. He genuinely didn’t care. Stripped of all the glamour, he simply set off on this journey.

Free. Unrestrained. Focused. Passionate. Sincere.

And immensely talented.

His character, his presence, his smile—all surpassed his physical appearance, revealing a bright, unique soul.

A pretty face?

If anyone still believed Anson was just a pretty face, Camilla wouldn’t argue. She would pity them for their narrow-mindedness and bias. They were like frogs at the bottom of a well, trapped in their ignorance, missing out on the chance to hear the voice of youth.

Anson deserved better.

As Camilla looked at Anson again, he was still the same Anson, yet not the blurry image she had once imagined.

She cried for Anson’s youth, rejoiced for his talent, and cheered for his freedom and spirit.

And then, those melodies, those songs, came to life.

A rush of emotion surged within her. Overwhelmed by the impulse, Camilla quickly hit pause and rummaged through her canvas bag for the record.

Though she had watched the performances in the subway and on the streets and bought two albums, she hadn’t really examined them.

Until now.

An intense urge took over. She wanted to explore the album seriously.

The cover immediately caught her attention.

A deep blue, clear and radiant, mysterious and brilliant. It wasn’t just any blue; it was the blue moment right before dawn, between the dark of night and the fiery red of sunrise.

Silent and distant.

At that moment, you could feel the tranquility of the night and the explosive power of the sunrise, experiencing life’s pulse between silence and noise.

"Midsummer. Midnight."

In the lower left corner, the album title was written in subtle font, symmetrically balanced by the band’s name in the right corner.

“August Thirty-First.”

If you weren’t paying close attention, you might wonder whether that was the band’s name or the album’s release date.

A little confusing, but from another angle, it felt like a playful joke.

Camilla couldn’t help but smile.

She turned the album over to see the back cover. Golden sunlight spilled down, dazzling and brilliant, illuminating the shimmering ocean. It was breathtaking.

Camilla paused: was this normal?

Logically, shouldn’t the front cover depict the sun and the back cover the night? But now it was reversed.

Upon closer inspection, she noticed a small boat floating on the vast ocean. Wait, there was something on the boat.

Was that... a cello, guitar, bass, keyboard, and a broken drum kit?

Oh, my God!

Camilla gasped. It looked simple, but there were hidden details.

Did this mean the front cover also had a hidden meaning?

Camilla opened a drawer, found a magnifying glass, and searched carefully. Sure enough—

The dawn-blue scene on the cover was shot from a mountaintop, and in the lower half, faint outlines of instruments could be seen in the dark.

No band members, just the instruments arranged as if in a music store—cellos, guitars, basses, and keyboards, but no drum kit.

The drum kit was three steps away on the right, discarded alone. Upon closer inspection, there was also a violin, a trombone, and other various instruments.

Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

Camilla’s excitement grew bit by bit. This band was truly a treasure trove, with surprises hidden in every corner.

In Camilla’s eyes, the band’s lineup was unique, clearly different from any other band out there. She had noticed during the performance that there didn’t seem to be any drums. Now, thinking back, the band had always been using different strategies to create drum beats.

Judging by the cover and back cover, the band’s lineup wasn’t fixed. Perhaps they used different instruments for different songs, unwilling to limit themselves.

It seemed like every member was a treasure.

Just realizing this made Camilla even more excited. She had never wanted to explore an entire album so thoroughly before.

Not a single song could be skipped.

She flipped the album back to the cover. In the bottom left corner, the song titles were listed in deep blue font, nestled among the waves.

Looking closely, she realized the song titles were handwritten, a bit messy, but full of the same carefree spirit as the owner of the handwriting—

For some reason, Camilla felt like it must be Anson’s handwriting.

Of course, that was just a guess, a fanciful thought. The handwriting could belong to anyone, even someone outside the band.

Camilla realized she had unknowingly become biased, seeing Anson through a special lens. Her cheeks flushed slightly.

She took a deep breath, calmed down, and let her eyes move down the song list.

“1. Wake Me Up

2. Babel

3. Dirty Paws

4. Apologize

5. Ho Hey

6. Hero

7. Viva La Vida

8. Around the World

9. Oceans Away

10. Wake Me Up When September Ends”

Ten full songs.

From the tracklist alone, Camilla realized this was a complete album. From its concept to its creation, it flowed seamlessly. The inspiration was clear—not only did the first and last songs echo each other, but the emotional progression of the track order could also be felt.

Wow.

The exclamation escaped her lips before she could stop it. She hadn’t even opened the album yet, and just scanning the song list had her excitement soaring.

Is this normal?

Do others get this excited when they see the tracklist of their favorite band’s album?

For Camilla, it was unfamiliar, but strangely, she didn’t dislike it.

More than that—she liked the feeling.

*Chapter 858: Sleepless Night*

A little bit of anticipation, a little bit of excitement, a little bit of thrill.

Like butterflies fluttering in her stomach, Camilla loved this feeling.

She quickly skimmed through the list and immediately spotted the familiar track titles—"Wake Me Up," "Ho Hey." Without a doubt, these songs were deeply moving.

But wait, what was "Dirty Paws" about?

And what about "Tower of Babel" and "Worlds Apart"? Why did they seem more like poetry?

Hold on a second, titles like "Apology" and "Hero"—could they really get away with such clichés? They seemed so out of place compared to the album's overall vibe.

And then there was "Long Live Life." Wow, using such a title—they really weren't worried about losing control, were they? It seemed to go against the band's usual style, yet she was curious about how the band would perform it.

Curiosity bubbled up, overflowing.

Camilla could no longer contain her excitement. She immediately tore open the CD packaging. Her fingers trembled with excitement, almost failing to open it.

But in the end, she managed.

In the thin little lyric booklet, Camilla finally saw the band members' faces—

It wasn’t easy.

Each member had a solo portrait, and Camilla could now match the names she had heard in videos to the faces in front of her.

Lily. Connor. Miles. And, of course, Anson.

Anson Wood.

Now, Camilla was 100% sure that this Anson was the same one from "Spider-Man." Wait, she remembered another Anson movie that had a huge promotional tie with France; wasn't it called... "Catch Me If You Can"?

But Camilla hadn't been interested, so she didn't watch it.

Who would have thought? She had dodged Paris Fashion Week, "Spider-Man," and even "Catch Me If You Can," but in the end, she couldn't escape the August 31st Band.

In the end, she fell for it.

However, Camilla felt it was meant to be.

She opened the lyric booklet and started reading the lyrics carefully. She couldn't help it—she tiptoed over to her bed, rummaged through her nightstand for her Walkman, put the CD in, and slipped the earbuds into her ears, listening to the music while continuing to study the lyrics.

And so, she got lost in the moment, bit by bit.

It was as if she was surrounded by a vast ocean made of musical notes. She floated on the surface, arms spread wide, quietly feeling the warmth of the sun on her skin. The moist, warm air seeped into her pores, silently becoming a part of her soul.

Who knew the album cover and back could have such an effect?

Until—

Knock, knock.

There was a knock on the door, but Camilla was so immersed in the melody that she didn't notice.

The knocking persisted until finally, the door opened. Someone gave Camilla a nudge, startling her from her musical trance.

"Camilla, are you okay?"

Camilla opened her eyes in shock, quickly sitting up as her heart raced. It took her a moment to realize that it was her roommate standing there.

Pauline Langlet looked at Camilla with worry all over her face. "When I got back last night, there was light coming from under your door, but you never came out to wash up. This morning, the light was still on. Did you cry all night?"

Camilla was taken aback. "What? It's already morning?"

She jumped up and looked out the window. The morning sun had just begun to peek out, casting a pale golden light over a freshly washed Paris, bringing it to life.

She had spent the entire night without realizing how time had flown by.

Camilla was both surprised and delighted.

Pauline stared at her, confused and not quite understanding what was happening. "Camilla, are you okay? I know about Marie and Pascal. Oh my God, they're not worth it..."

Camilla turned around. "Who? Oh, you mean them. I'm fine."

Pauline was full of doubt.

Camilla smiled. "My life is too precious to waste on those people. If I told you I didn't think about them at all last night, would you believe me?"

Pauline didn't say anything, but her expression said it all: she didn't believe her.

"Haha." Camilla laughed freely—

She was telling the truth.

Those things were all in the past. She wasn't fazed. It wasn't selective amnesia or burying her head in the sand like an ostrich. It was a complete calmness. Even if her ex-boyfriend and so-called friends showed up in front of her now, she could greet them gracefully.

She didn't care about them.

Because she had things that truly mattered. If she had time to worry about two irrelevant people, she'd rather go home and take a walk with her father or watch a performance by the August 31st Band with Pauline, who genuinely cared about her.

Revenge?

It was beneath her, and it wasn't worth it.

Her happiness and joy were the best forms of retaliation.

Camilla knew Pauline was worried about her. "How did you find out?"

Pauline sighed lightly. "When I got back last night, I saw them downstairs. I thought they came to see you, so I greeted them. But they acted like guilty thieves, couldn't even meet my eyes, and ran off. I figured something must have happened."

Camilla suddenly understood. "I thought they didn’t care about my feelings. Who knew they'd come all the way to the apartment? Oh, it seems they do care about me. I’m a little touched."

Pauline was speechless. "Camilla..."

Camilla burst out laughing. "Okay, okay, seriously. I was up all night researching a band..."

Pauline: ???

For the first time, she felt like her brain couldn't keep up with what was happening.

But Camilla didn't give her time to react and quickly put the earbuds in Pauline's ears. "It's Saturday. The band should still be performing on the streets. Pauline, come with me. I want to see their full show in person."

Pauline: ... "Camilla, what is happening? Can you update me? I can’t keep up. What are you talking about?"

Camilla's eyes lit up. She hadn't slept all night, but she was full of energy with no signs of fatigue.

"Pauline, come, let me tell you about yesterday afternoon's adventure."

"Oh my God, it was truly an adventure. I believe our meeting was destined by God. To be precise, my meeting with Anson."

Pauline, "Anson? You like someone else now? Camilla, you're still hurt. You shouldn’t just fall for anyone. They'll just be a rebound."

Camilla paused, realizing that Pauline's thoughts had veered off into another universe.

Camilla laughed, "Hahaha, you misunderstood. Although I’d love to go on a date with Anson—who could resist him?—we’re not like that."

Confused and bewildered, Pauline was dragged into a mysterious world by Camilla.

Then, before she knew it, Pauline and Camilla were on the metro heading to the Luxembourg Gardens.

Sitting on the metro, the rattling sound echoed around them. Pauline felt dizzy. She vaguely remembered she was worried about Camilla's heartbreak and betrayal and had come to comfort her friend. But why were they on the metro now?

What was happening?

Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?

Pauline's eyes were blank. Was this really okay?

*Chapter 859: Guerrilla Performance*

"Pauline, trust me, you're going to love them. Really."

"They're amazing, you can't imagine that music could be like this; and their lead singer is truly captivating."

"I want to put earphones in everyone's ears right now and let them listen to August 31st's music. No one should miss out on this."

"I can't believe I've only just discovered this gem."

"They're worth it. Truly."

"By the way, did I mention? The lead singer is really charming!"

Blah, blah.

Pauline widened her eyes and looked innocently at Camilla, blinking.

Although she didn't say anything, Camilla understood immediately and gave a dry laugh, "Haha, haha. Looks like I've already mentioned that."

More than once!

Pauline looked at the chattering Camilla, whose joy and happiness were so genuine that it seemed to light up the whole world.

Originally, Pauline was worried that Camilla would die of heartbreak; but now it seemed she might need to worry about Camilla getting overly excited to the point of oxygen deprivation.

The scene was a bit funny.

Unable to hold back, Pauline's curiosity slowly started to grow—

No matter what, anything that could make Camilla snap out of her slump and pain overnight and quickly bounce back was a good thing.

What's more, Pauline had known Camilla for quite some time, and she had never seen Camilla like this, especially not for a band. "Crazy" wouldn't be an overstatement.

One afternoon, one evening, and she's already this obsessed?

Just now, all morning, Camilla had been muttering about how to make more people aware of the band's European street tour website.

Camilla considered going door to door to promote it but was worried she'd be mistaken for a missionary, and the efficiency of such promotion would be too low. In the end, the internet was more convenient, allowing more people to find out.

Then, while studying it, Camilla discovered the website's secret—

On that website, the band's latest information is updated every morning: in which city, at what location, and at what specific time they would perform.

Judging by the website's traffic, the promotional efforts were average; and the website's design didn't highlight the information prominently. It was more like a treasure, requiring time and effort to uncover.

If you're not careful, you might miss the hidden information.

This approach wasn't conducive to mass publicity or widespread dissemination; but on the other hand, it allowed the band to spread among a niche group of music fans.

Come to think of it, the band had been doing street performances without much fanfare, focusing not on mass promotion but on finding niche music lovers who truly appreciate music and cherish innovation.

The target was precisely defined.

This fit perfectly with the band's musical style.

Because of this, Camilla became even happier and more excited—

If you don't like it, you don't like it; but those who do are 100% die-hard fans.

At least, that's how Camilla interpreted it. She liked August 31st even more. This band was like a treasure—the more you dig, the more surprises you find.

Then.

Camilla excitedly made up her mind to go to the band's street performance that afternoon, dragging Pauline along with her.

Even though she had just experienced the live performance last evening, Camilla was still determined.

"Yesterday's performance wasn't complete; I only got to enjoy a few songs. Today I must get there on time and enjoy the full performance."

Pauline: ...

Pauline tried to remind her that a street performance doesn't have a complete or incomplete show. Were they really going to stand on the sidewalk for three hours to watch the performance?

That's a bit crazy.

But on second thought, it was precisely because of the craziness that it was worth the challenge.

Pauline had watched movies, operas, stage plays, and concerts, but had never experienced a complete concert on the street for three hours—

What would that even be like?

Interesting? Boring? Chaotic? Crowded? Full of surprises? A mess? A delightful experience?

It's hard to predict.

Pauline couldn't guess. She herself hadn't realized that her curiosity was also being piqued.

Then, just like that, Pauline followed Camilla's lead in a daze.

They were now heading to Luxembourg Gardens. According to the website, the band was set to start their performance at 3 PM on the street next to Luxembourg Gardens.

Thinking about it, Pauline looked at Camilla uncertainly.

"Luxembourg Gardens, where exactly?"

"Inside the park or outside? If outside, is it on the side near the Seine or the other side?"

"The park is huge. Are we going to have to run around the whole outside? If so, we might be exhausted before we even find where the band is playing."

"Camilla, don't forget, you didn't sleep at all last night."

A series of questions left Camilla stumped, mumbling that she didn’t know how to respond.

Because there was no information on the website.

Pauline rubbed her forehead, "Why do I feel like this band doesn't want to succeed?"

Pfft.

Thinking about it, Camilla couldn't argue and couldn't help but laugh, "I feel the same way. It's like they didn’t put much thought into the promotion, deliberately making it harder by setting up riddles for us to solve."

"But!"

"Pauline, don't you find this more interesting? Doesn't it stir your curiosity, making you eager to explore more deeply?"

"The puzzle-solving process is part of the fun."

Pauline froze, "Oh. That works too."

Come to think of it, Pauline's curiosity was being stirred in exactly this way.

As they spoke, the subway arrived at their stop.

Following the bustling weekend crowd, Camilla and Pauline left the subway. Since they didn't know the band's exact performance location, they randomly picked an exit to go above ground and bask in the sunlight.

"Clockwise or counterclockwise? Let's check around the perimeter first."

"Yesterday, they performed inside the subway station, then outside the subway exit. So today, they probably won't be too far from the subway exit either."

"Alright, let's check near the exits first."

As they spoke, they reached the ground. Just as they were about to look around to get their bearings, both Camilla and Pauline's eyes were drawn in the same direction:

A crowd.

A bustling, dense crowd was surging in one direction.

The key wasn't the moving crowd itself, which was just thirty or fifty people, slightly noticeable. The key was the direction they were moving. In the distance, a corner of the crowded area could be seen, with at least several hundred people.

Camilla: "Pauline!"

Pauline: "Camilla!"

The two exchanged a glance, a tacit understanding flashing in their eyes.

No words were needed. They followed the flow of the crowd, tiptoeing to see the scene ahead. The crowd layered upon layer unfolded before them.

Pauline: ???

"Camilla, didn't you say they were unknown? The website was deserted? This doesn't seem like a performance by your band. Maybe it's some other event happening this afternoon?"

"Oh no, your band might be completely overshadowed by this crowd."

Camilla: "No, that's them. Anson! That's Anson!"

---

*Chapter 860: The Treasure Band*

The crowd formed layer upon layer of concentric circles, leaving a small open space in the center, just about five meters in radius. The surging crowd rippled outward like waves, with the scattered open space resembling a white dot that stood out against the fan-shaped mass of shadows surrounding it.

It was a spectacular sight.

In the very center, four figures were methodically setting up their equipment, each person focused intently on their tasks, seemingly undistracted by the swelling crowd. Their attention was entirely on testing their instruments—

Just like yesterday in the subway station, but now they had speakers and microphones.

Clearly, the performance at the café entrance yesterday was a coincidence. The band members themselves hadn't anticipated attracting such attention, so they hadn’t brought out speakers or other equipment.

However, it was precisely because of this that it proved the inherent charm of their music and the band's ability to improvise and control the scene. These unexpected events made things more interesting and exciting.

Pauline: Wow.

Pauline tried to find the right words to describe the scene before her and express how she felt, but after racking her brain—

She failed.

Wow!

Pauline gasped again. She was like an emotionless screaming machine.

How could this scene even be described?

When they came to Luxembourg Gardens, they had expected a street performance, maybe a small crowd of a dozen or so people at most. They imagined the two of them standing there foolishly, watching the whole performance, and perhaps even chatting with the band members afterward.

But when they arrived, they discovered that the scale of this crowd was no less than that of a concert.

Pauline looked around—

Three hundred people? Five hundred?

More.

In any case, the number of people within Pauline's line of sight exceeded five hundred.

With such a turnout, hosting a small concert wouldn’t be an issue. And more importantly, people were still arriving.

Pauline's mind went blank, and she had just one thought at that moment.

"Camilla, are you sure?"

Camilla was just as stunned. What was going on?

She looked left and right.

Then Camilla saw a familiar face in the crowd, looking puzzled because she was absolutely sure she didn’t know that person.

A beat later, after noticing more familiar faces, Camilla finally realized:

They were all people who had watched the performance outside the café yesterday afternoon. And now, like her, they all had friends with them.

It seemed that they were all on the same wavelength—

Camilla wasn't the only one.

The emotional journey Camilla went through last night played out in different apartments. They had all searched tirelessly online, trying to find information about the band. When they finally found the website, they were ecstatic, like Indiana Jones finding a treasure.

Even though they wanted to keep this treasure to themselves, deep down, a voice protested:

For a band this good, for music this compelling, it would be a shame if only they knew about it.

They wanted to find kindred spirits; they wanted to find others who shared their passion. They wanted to find more resonance in the music, to spark the faint glimmer of hope.

Because believing in dreams, in hope, and in the idea that life can have more possibilities is a lonely and arduous road; they needed to know they weren’t alone in their struggle against endless pain and darkness.

And so—

This scene unfolded before their eyes.

One. Two. Three, four, five.

Dark circles under their eyes, yet no trace of fatigue on their faces—only excitement and joy, the thrill and happiness of gathering once more.

Looking up, they saw those faces—slightly unfamiliar yet vaguely familiar—nodding in mutual understanding and exchanging a glance that only they could comprehend.

And just like that, their spirits soared.

This was Paris.

On the surface, it appeared cold, aloof, arrogant, and proud. But at its core, it was brimming with hopeless romance and innocence, not just about love but also about art and life.

Then—

Camilla turned to Pauline. "Yes, I'm sure. Do you see that? That's Anson."

Pauline let out a long breath. "I recognize him too. Oh my God, that face was plastered on the outside of my office building for three whole months—no, six months. How could I not recognize him?"

"He's...okay, I'll admit, he's a charming guy. But, Camilla, who is the cellist?"

Pauline’s eyes glowed with excitement. Now, she was fully into the scene, no longer feeling lost.

Camilla glanced over, her smile widening. "That's Miles. Let me tell you, the song Miles performs—wow, it’s mind-blowing. But I won’t spoil it for you. You'll see for yourself soon enough. He's full of charm too."

Pauline nodded earnestly. "Any man who dares to bring a cello out onto the street has to have some charm, right?"

Camilla couldn’t hold back her laughter anymore, bending over with amusement.

“Ahem, testing. Testing. One, two, three.”

Anson's voice came through the microphone, signaling they were finally ready. The next moment—

Roars, screams, whistles, and shouts filled the air, creating an electrifying atmosphere.

Anson’s lips curled slightly.

“Uh, sorry, if you're lost, I can't help with directions. We're not traffic cops.”

In French.

Those words were entirely in French. Despite being a bit choppy, it was indeed French, and it had a proper Parisian accent.

A pleasant surprise. The French audience erupted into cheers and laughter. With just a few short sentences, the atmosphere instantly heated up.

All eyes were now on Anson. No warm-up performance was needed; the audience was already primed and ready.

Anson shrugged lightly.

"Sorry, that’s all the French I know. To avoid my bandmates thinking I’m talking bad about them, I have to switch back."

"You know, to English."

Hahaha, hahaha.

Laughter echoed.

Standing at the microphone, Anson seemed at ease.

“I just need to clarify, this is an August 31st Band street performance. I don’t understand what’s happening, but this crowd is way beyond our expectations. So, does anyone know how quickly Paris traffic cops respond? We might be missing some permits.”

Laughter, applause, and whistles filled the air.

Anson maintained his serious expression.

“I just need to let everyone know, please don’t get lost; but if you are, feel free to join the fun.”

“So, let's not waste any time. Let the beat begin before the cops come to chase us away.”

“Hey, this isn’t an opera house. If you don’t like it, you can leave at any time. But if you do like it, feel free to tip us.”

As soon as he finished speaking, thunderous applause broke out.

Paris might be a city of art, bound by various formalities. You have to dress up for the opera house or fancy restaurants; but don't forget, Paris also cherishes street art—magic, painting, juggling. These street performances still thrive in this city.

And this scene was another example.