706-710

*Chapter 706: Flash Mob*

Huff, huff.

Nicholas Flynn was sprinting at full speed. The howling wind roared continuously past his ears, and the noise and vibrancy of the world seemed to be drawn into the beat of his heart, turning into a chaotic blur that trailed behind him like the protagonist of a Hayao Miyazaki film.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have a Totoro by his side.

Car horns, engine noises, and chatter blended into one chaotic symphony. The city was in uproar, traffic at a standstill, taxis stuck in an ocean of vehicles unable to move, transforming the back seats into another form of prison.

So.

Nicholas decided to get out of the cab and rely on his own two feet to make it to Washington Square.

After all… it was just… just four blocks… only four blocks.

Gasping for air, Nicholas felt like his lungs were on fire, a thousand sounds roaring in his ears as his vision went black.

He needed a moment to catch his breath.

Finally, the city stopped spinning, and Nicholas opened his eyes again, pushing forward. Rounding the corner, his destination was in sight.

People. So many people.

His entire view was filled with bodies. "Crowd" wasn’t enough to describe the sheer mass before him. It felt like every single person in New York City was converging here, evoking a sense of déjà vu, reminiscent of New Year’s Eve.

Since 1907, New York’s Times Square New Year’s Eve celebration had been one of the grandest and most boisterous festivities, with a million people gathering for the countdown to the new year.

But this—this was something else entirely.

It was just a feeling.

Nicholas could clearly sense people swarming from all directions, as if Washington Square had become a magnet, pulling the Friday night crowd together to witness a miracle.

It was overwhelming. Breathtaking.

Even someone as experienced as Nicholas found himself speechless.

"... It’s actually New York!"

"How on earth did Anson pull this off?"

"No way, I didn’t see this coming at all."

"I thought this would be like the other cities..."

"You're not alone. Anson caught us all off guard again."

"Who would've thought it’d be NYU? But in hindsight, it makes perfect sense—Frank Abagnale Jr. is a master at this, after all..."

"Washington Square? Seriously? Washington Square of all places?"

"They're saying no tickets, free admission—is that for real?"

"Wow, just when everyone thought the surprises were over, Anson comes out with another one!"

The murmuring, the chattering.

Countless voices wove together like a net, sweeping over Nicholas. Even in the fragmented conversations, he caught the key name:

Anson.

Just as people were saying, Anson had once again shattered expectations and delivered a surprise, masterfully demonstrating the true essence of a flash mob.

And New York? New York went wild.

Nicholas realized something—anything associated with Anson seemed to turn into magic, breaking through all logic and sweeping everyone along with it. It was impossible to keep up, and the surprises just kept coming.

Just moments ago, a new rumor had surfaced—

Hardcore film fans were speculating with absolute certainty that Anson would be in New York tonight, making a surprise appearance at the AMC Theater in Times Square.

It made sense.

If Anson was coming to New York, Times Square was the obvious landmark, the perfect place to conclude the event and stir up a frenzy among fans. This "insider tip" was convincing enough to draw crowds to Times Square.

And so, a wave of people flooded toward Times Square. Not just the AMC Theater—all the nearby cinemas were suddenly fully booked, with every show sold out for the night.

But now?

Everyone was pouring into Washington Square instead, leaving the theaters with empty seats, turning sold-out screenings into ghost towns.

The strange thing was, when these people learned that Washington Square had free entry, no one asked for a refund.

This sparked controversy. Many professionals called it box-office fraud, arguing it was a tactic that harmed true moviegoers by turning the event into a celebrity meet-and-greet frenzy.

Even major outlets like The New Yorker and The New York Times weighed in on the debate.

Opinions were divided. Critics spoke out, while others voiced support.

All of this confirmed one thing: Anson was undeniably a polarizing figure.

It also showed that the hype around Catch Me If You Can remained sky-high.

Even in a big city like New York, even after two weeks of flash mob events, even after the novelty had worn off, this one still defied logic and reached new heights.

At this very moment, Nicholas could feel it in his bones—

Standing in the midst of the massive crowd, he felt like an ant, like dust, like a drop of water, eventually becoming part of the roaring wave of heat.

Ah, ahhh!

Screams, cheers, and shouts surrounded Washington Square entirely.

A Fox News helicopter circled overhead, broadcasting the view from above. It wasn’t just Washington Square—the surrounding blocks were completely paralyzed.

The New York Fire Department and traffic police had been dispatched immediately, busy trying to manage the chaos.

And it all revolved around that tiny dot at the center of the stage.

From the sky, it was just a black dot, indistinguishable from the others. But somehow, that dot stood out, like the North Star, effortlessly drawing all eyes toward it.

The chaos was intense, the noise deafening, yet like worshippers before a deity, the crowd calmed at Anson’s command—

One moment, the scene was on the verge of spiraling out of control; the next, it was serene. Even magic couldn’t explain it, yet it unfolded before their eyes.

Even Anson himself was surprised.

He looked down at his right hand and quipped, "I might need the Sorting Hat to figure out which house I belong in."

Ha.

The crowd burst into laughter.

That was Anson—effortlessly commanding the spotlight and controlling the crowd, like a modern-day Moses parting the sea.

But even Anson had no idea how this was happening.

"So, if I want to part the Red Sea, could someone tell me the spell and hand motions?"

Laughter rippled through the crowd, and miraculously, the people in front actually began clearing a path. Anson, startled, quickly raised his hands to stop them.

"Wait, wait, I don’t want to get a call from Area 51 or the FBI when I get home. I swear, I’m innocent."

*Chapter 707: Immersed in the Moment*

Laughter—uproarious laughter filled the air.

For the past two weeks, gossip, recaps, and countless posts about the flash mob event had been swirling around. People thought they understood it all, but only when they were there in person did they realize—it was something entirely different.

Dreamlike, surreal, as if caught between wakefulness and sleep.

For a moment, it was impossible to tell whether everything happening was a dream or reality.

The only thing that was clear was this:

They were completely immersed, feeling every moment with every fiber of their being.

“Can someone please explain to me what’s going on?”

The stage wasn’t particularly high, yet Anson stood on it like a giant. The noise and crowd before him stretched endlessly, resembling the scene of a music festival.

Honestly, Anson was just as surprised and shocked as anyone else present.

While planning the New York flash mob event, Anson had asked the NYU event organizers, and they said that three hundred people was typically the limit.

But clearly, there were far more than three hundred people here.

Just within his line of sight, there were over a thousand, maybe more—it was impossible to count them all.

Luckily, Edgar had anticipated this and had coordinated with DreamWorks, Universal Pictures, NYU, and the local police precinct in Lower Manhattan to ensure safety measures were in place. Otherwise, the scene would have been even more overwhelming.

Caught between amazement and disbelief, Anson felt a surge of excitement—

Adrenaline pumped through him.

The fatigue from the non-stop promotion over the past few days vanished, replaced by renewed energy.

Up ahead:

“Premiere!”

“Premiere!”

The word echoed throughout the crowd. Anson looked puzzled—what about the premiere?

Standing beside him, the host, Travis Knapp, quickly jumped in, “At last week’s premiere, you managed to control the scene this way, making sure the movie played smoothly.”

Anson's eyes widened in recognition, making a gesture, “Directing?”

Noticing Anson's small gesture, Travis couldn't help but smile, nodding, “Directing.”

Anson suddenly understood. “Wow, I never knew information traveled so fast these days. Looks like I'll need to be more careful with my actions in the future.”

Laughter erupted once again.

Even Travis found himself laughing.

As a junior at NYU, Travis had hosted countless events, and his good looks made him quite popular. He was a bit of a celebrity on campus, having hosted outdoor screenings at Washington Square more times than he could count.

So, tonight was just another event for him—just with Anson present. No big deal, in his eyes.

Especially seeing how his fellow club members were all jittery and overexcited, Travis remained his usual calm self, not fazed by the big crowd.

However—

It wasn’t the same. It really wasn’t the same.

Later, in an interview with The New Yorker, Travis would say:

“The energy at the event was palpable. You could truly feel the crowd—a thousand, maybe two thousand people. The breathing, the gazes, the bodies pressing in from every direction, the excitement and joy transforming into a wave of heat that nearly overwhelmed us.

You think you can stay calm, you think you can handle it, but the reality is, your heart and your breathing betray your real emotions.

But the real pressure came from Anson.

When he stood in front of you, you couldn’t help but glance in his direction, even if you weren’t aware of it. And when he spoke to you, he would look right into your eyes with such sincerity and focus, like you were the only person that mattered in that moment.

Believe me, it’s impossible to stay composed—your adrenaline and dopamine just explode.

But somehow, he also has the ability to calm you down, like everything will be okay.”

For instance, right now:

Travis unconsciously wiped his palms, realizing they were covered in sweat. That brief interaction had already made his heart race out of control.

So, that legendary aura really does exist.

Anson seemed to notice Travis’s tension, and seeing that Travis couldn’t quite keep up with the pace, he turned, exchanged a glance with him, and offered a reassuring smile.

Just that little bit of acknowledgment was enough to ease Travis’s nerves.

Seeing Travis still struggling to keep up, Anson wasn’t in a rush. He looked back at the audience, “Sorry for interrupting your movie.”

No!

A thunderous rejection erupted from the crowd.

Anson shrugged lightly. “Oh, well, that’s a shame. I thought you were all eager to see Catch Me If You Can.”

No!

Another round of rejection followed, but the audience quickly realized he was joking, and laughter mixed with their shouts.

Anson grinned, “Actually, I meant Superman.”

“Personally, I love this movie, even though, technically speaking, it doesn’t fit modern storytelling or audience expectations. But I still can’t forget the first time I saw it—I couldn’t believe someone could actually fly.”

“Of course, now we can spot the wires.”

More laughter rippled through the crowd.

“But without a doubt, seeing that movie planted a seed of imagination in my mind. It made me realize that filmmaking is about creating dreams, just like when I first saw Jaws.”

“I’ll admit, I avoided the beach for a long time after that.”

Once again, laughter burst out, even from Nicholas.

He knew how skilled Anson was, whether talking to reporters or appearing on shows like The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Anson could always hold his own. Yet, even now, a smile crept onto Nicholas’s face.

No wonder Anson didn’t need a host for this event.

Originally, it was to keep the event secret—fewer staff meant less chance of leaks.

But Nicholas now had a theory: a host might have actually hindered things. After all, not many people could keep up with Anson’s quick thinking.

The young man next to him was proof of that.

Travis realized it too. He felt like a mere decoration, completely unnecessary.

In truth, he didn’t want to be in the way of the surprise event. If needed, he was willing to step aside.

But that’s where Anson’s magic lay—he had a way of drawing everyone into the moment.

Including Travis.

Following Anson's lead, Travis’s mind started working again. Before he realized it, he asked, “So, how did you feel when you found out you’d be working with Steven?”

Once you get started, there’s always more to ask.

“And when you learned that Steven wanted to take such a serious crime story and turn it into a family-friendly, lighthearted narrative, how did you feel then?”

*Chapter 708: Unintentional Success*

It was natural and smooth.

And it perfectly matched the movie and the event.

Travis's sudden involvement didn’t disrupt the flow. In fact, it made the surprise event shine even brighter with post-screening interaction.

Brilliant.

The audience’s gaze naturally shifted to Anson.

Travis barely had time to feel nervous after speaking, his mouth dry, and his heart pounding.

But to his surprise, Anson noticed Travis looking over.

"I like your question," Anson said, not in a whisper, but directly into the microphone, flashing Travis a smile. "God, how I've longed to share some behind-the-scenes moments. I mean, I worked on a movie with Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks. Please, let me brag a little, okay?"

Ha-ha, ha-ha-ha.

Even Travis couldn’t hold back and burst into laughter.

Then Anson stopped joking and gave the question some serious thought.

"When I found out I’d be working with Steven, the first image that came to mind wasn’t the shark from Jaws… that was the second."

Ha-ha.

"The first was E.T.. For me, that represents a crucial core of Steven’s films: innocence and imagination."

"That pure, simple emotion, yet it’s also complex and deep. Because as we grow up, that sincerity often fades, and we rely on movies, literature, and art to remind us—hey, you once believed in fairy tales."

"Catch Me If You Can is no different."

"I don’t think Steven was trying to downplay crime. I think he was capturing the complexity of young Frank Abagnale."

"At first, everything was simple, even innocent. But once things spiraled out of control, he realized there was no way back."

"So, the script, the character, and the movie itself carry a sense of innocence. It’s more about a kid growing up than a crime story. How does a child become an adult? How does he, awkwardly, learn about responsibility and trust?"

"Sure, crime is crime, and he rightly deserves punishment. But after the crime, life goes on. How do you learn from the past, avoid making the same mistakes, and get back up after you fall? That’s what the movie focuses on."

Wow.

Nicholas almost wanted to give Anson a standing ovation—

Brilliant!

Over the past few days, Catch Me If You Can has become the hottest topic of the holiday season, and critics have quickly banded together.

Many argue the movie glorifies crime, portraying young Frank Abagnale’s criminal life as particularly enticing, and presenting it with humor. Such a movie becoming the holiday hit undoubtedly challenges traditional values, law, and order.

"You wouldn’t want your kids watching this movie."

Gradually, protests and calls for boycotts have started to emerge, with some Catholic parents even demanding local theaters stop showing Catch Me If You Can.

However, there’s one key point—

Catch Me If You Can is rated PG-13, meaning it’s not suitable for children under 13 without parental guidance.

Titanic and Harry Potter are also PG-13, meaning the MPAA has already issued a warning. Parents can choose whether to let their kids under 13 watch the film.

So, theaters ignored the parents’ demands.

In response to this backdrop, both Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks have made statements.

Steven wasn’t too concerned, while Tom’s response was measured. Neither managed to calm the controversy, but it was clear they weren’t too bothered by it.

Now, with Anson’s response, he elevated the conversation to a new level. It was a brilliant reply.

Catholicism and Christianity preach forgiveness. Everyone is a sinner and must seek redemption. The focus isn’t on the mistake but on how to correct it and continue living afterward.

Though Anson didn’t mention religion or address the protests directly, the message between the lines was enough to quiet the controversy.

Nicholas thought it was the perfect response. He was already brainstorming ideas. Even if he didn’t cover tonight’s flash mob, there’d be no shortage of material for tomorrow’s report.

Travis noticed it too.

But encouraged by Anson, Travis found a bit more courage and didn’t stop there. He asked a follow-up question.

"Aren’t you worried kids might see this and get the wrong idea? Thousands of 16- or 17-year-olds could end up like young Frank."

Booing erupted from the crowd.

Anson didn’t mind, giving Travis an encouraging look, a smile creeping across his lips—

And then.

Anson suddenly remembered Quentin Tarantino once tackled this very question in an interview, years before it gained major attention.

So, when was that interview?

He chuckled.

Travis noticed Anson’s broader smile and was confused: Is this really a funny question?

Seeing Travis’s anxious expression, Anson’s eyes and lips were full of amusement.

He wasn’t sure about the exact date of Quentin’s interview, and to avoid revealing himself as a time traveler, he decided not to risk it.

"Hey, here’s the thing."

"When I was a kid, my parents didn’t stop me from watching movies, any movie really."

"The Godfather, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly, Bonnie and Clyde, It Happened One Night… You name it, I probably watched it. These were all movies kids shouldn’t watch."

"Then one day, I realized this, and I got scared. I nervously asked my mom, ‘What am I going to do?’"

"Do you know what my mom said?"

Travis, now more relaxed, looked at Anson, "What did she say?"

Anson replied, "She said, ‘Dear Anson, it’s just a movie. You’re not going to be ruined by what you see on screen. It’s just a damn movie. I’m more worried about the news you watch every day. God, shouldn’t the news be rated?’"

Ha-ha, ha-ha-ha.

The whole crowd roared with laughter.

This time, Nicholas couldn’t control himself. He stood up, clapping and whistling, as a massive wave of applause surged through Washington Square.

Not just Nicholas, but Travis also clapped for Anson.

One second, the crowd was laughing.

The next, applause filled the air.

Clap, clap, clap!

Cheers, whistles, and applause flooded Washington Square, roaring like a tidal wave.

This was clearly something Anson hadn’t expected. A small joke had turned into an all-out celebration—

It seemed that, at this moment, movie lovers had united.

The diverse faces in front of him suddenly seemed a little adorable.

*Chapter 709: Layers of Deception*

“No, oh no no no, it wasn’t planned at all. It was just an idea that suddenly popped into my head.”

When Travis was asked by The New Yorker to recreate the situation, he had to wave his hands repeatedly to clarify, trying to avoid further misunderstandings after being hit with that controversial question.

“I just followed up on Anson’s answer and, given the recent debates, the question just came to me, so I asked it.”

“But I never expected Anson to come up with such a clever response, nor did I anticipate such a strong reaction.”

“‘A movie is just a movie’—it’s a simple truth, isn’t it?”

As the flash mob at Washington Square concluded, media across North America and even worldwide began buzzing with excitement.

This was a groundbreaking moment in movie marketing. Even as audience expectations kept climbing, and the event seemed to fall into the routine and lose novelty, Anson managed to surprise everyone again with a grand finale.

According to incomplete statistics, at least ten thousand people attended the event at Washington Square that night, if not more. It became the hot topic of New York’s sleepless night, generating excitement and fervor comparable to New Year’s Eve.

Even more so because of the unexpected controversy sparked by the exchange between Anson and Travis, the slogan “A movie is just a movie” took off, spreading like wildfire, fueling a fourth wave of buzz for Catch Me If You Can.

Not just Travis, but even Anson and Edgar themselves were surprised. Who would have thought that a casual comment could cause such a sensation?

But that’s reality—

The hype was real. Combined with the festive atmosphere of Christmas and New Year, Catch Me If You Can was undeniably becoming the must-see film of the holiday season.

And that wasn’t all.

The real reason this controversy took off, and the reason Catch Me If You Can became the biggest winner, was Anson himself.

After the crowd’s cheers calmed down a bit and Travis regained his composure, he finally threw out a planned question, which Anson answered one by one.

Among them, Travis asked a particularly interesting question.

“Anson, in this movie, you had an amazing back-and-forth with Tom. How did you go about shaping your character?”

The question itself was fairly standard, lacking novelty—something that any average viewer or journalist might have asked. But Anson’s response was another highlight of the evening.

“I’m not sure if this will sound confusing, like a set of Russian dolls, but for me, I treated young Frank Abagnale as if he were a fictional character.”

What?

Anson joked to himself.

“Yes, I know how absurd that sounds.”

The crowd erupted in laughter.

“What I mean is, when young Frank becomes a pilot, a doctor, or any other role, he’s not just playing a part—he’s creating an imaginary perfect world in his mind, a world free of troubles, pain, and built entirely on his imagination.”

“Just like in a movie. Of course, you could also say it’s like his dream, or an illusion.”

“In fact, it was like this from the very beginning.”

“When his father received honors, when his parents’ love seemed perfect, young Frank lived in a fairytale. Steven’s direction framed it as this perfect world, where everything was so beautiful it didn’t feel real.”

“So, every time this perfect world started to crack, young Frank would try to escape, and then build a new world. He kept running from one illusion to another.”

“And yet, he himself realizes this is all fake. He’s always hovering, unable to settle down. He needs to find something real, but at the same time, he’s terrified that reality will destroy him.”

“And Tom—well, I mean, FBI agent Carl Hanratty—is like an NPC in a game, always chasing him. He’s Frank’s only link to the real world.”

“When he’s lonely, confused, Carl is the only thing that makes him feel connected to reality.”

“For me, portraying this character was about returning to reality bit by bit, constantly fleeing, passing through different illusions, trying to forget the pain of reality, but eventually landing back on solid ground, feeling the pull of gravity.”

“To be exact, it’s only in the final scene where we truly meet the real Frank Abagnale.”

“So…”

Clap, clap, clap.

The applause couldn’t wait to break out.

“So, in the movie, I played a character who transitions from performance back to reality. That’s the Russian doll effect I’m talking about—I’m not sure if it makes sense, but…”

Ha ha ha.

Laughter mixed with applause filled the air once again. And as Anson smiled and set down the mic, the place erupted.

Clap clap clap!

The applause was thunderous, sweeping through the entire square.

Even Nicholas couldn’t help but join in, offering heartfelt applause for Anson.

It was because of Anson’s sincerity. Even though this was just a promotional event, just a free event at Washington Square, he still gave a professional and profound response, far from just going through the motions.

The crowd fell silent, fully engaged.

Because Anson’s response offered a deeper interpretation of Catch Me If You Can.

A coming-of-age story?

That reading is far too simplistic. Sure, everyone can see the father-son dynamic between young Frank and Carl.

But Anson offered another perspective—seeing Frank’s journey as a series of stories, or a game, where he moves through different fairytales before finally returning to reality. This gave the film a new layer of complexity.

Now that’s not something you often find in Hollywood.

With this in mind, Steven’s vintage, playful style of filmmaking suddenly seemed even more brilliant.

Just like the opening of the movie—a television show, a fictional stage.

Brilliant. Simply brilliant.

Everything stemmed from Anson’s words, sparking widespread discussion after the event.

Indeed, a movie is just a movie. There’s no need to make a big deal out of it.

But at the same time, a movie is more than just a movie—it’s a fertile ground for imagination and creativity.

And so, the hype exploded.

However, the real key to it all came with Anson’s next move.

“A movie is like this, and so is tonight.”

“I’m not an actor right now; I’m just a viewer, an ordinary movie fan. I’m sorry for interrupting your movie earlier, but if you don’t mind, I’d love to stay and watch Superman 2 with you all.”

The entire square froze.

Even Travis stammered, “W-what do you mean?”

Anson smiled, “I’m stepping off the stage, coming back to earth, back to reality, back to being part of the audience. How does that sound?”

Wha…what?

Like a stone tossed into water, the entire crowd at Washington Square was stunned.

Who would have thought the real climax was just beginning?

Chapter 710: Ordinary Audience

Shock, confusion, surprise.

All of Washington Square was completely stunned, their minds frozen—once again.

Typically, a promotional event is just that: a promotional event. After the pleasantries and formalities, the guests leave, and the audience is left to bask in the afterglow. That’s usually the extent of it.

After all, it’s a commercial event; no need to take it too seriously.

However!

Anson was different—he was fully invested.

Anson chose to stay and enjoy movie night with the audience. Beyond just promoting the event, he shed his celebrity persona and embraced the role of an ordinary moviegoer, genuinely participating in the film screening organized by NYU.

This was truly rare—authentic.

As mentioned before, Hollywood still thrives on mystique, keeping a distance between entertainers and the public, shrouding the entertainment industry in a veil.

But Anson was different. Ever since his interview with The New York Times last year, he’s been showing a more authentic side of himself. Now, he’s taken it a step further, proving his sincerity through actions.

This changed everything.

Moreover,

Anson didn’t just stay to watch Catch Me If You Can, the movie he was promoting. Instead, he went back to the roots of NYU’s movie night and joined the audience in watching Superman II.

The media: ????

This move completely threw the media off balance.

If it was for promotion, he should’ve stayed for Catch Me If You Can and then interacted with the audience afterward.

But if it wasn’t for promotion, what was Anson thinking, staying behind? Didn’t he notice the fans surrounding Washington Square?

Could it be that Anson actually wanted to watch Superman II?

Absurd!

The media were completely shocked.

If even the media were this shocked, imagine how the ordinary audience felt.

This was how it all unfolded, step by step. From the moment Anson appeared in Washington Square, everything he did shattered expectations and, in an unplanned way, collided with the events on-site, creating a chemical reaction that spiraled into something neither Anson nor DreamWorks could control.

So, what about Anson himself?

Travis recalled, “Whether you believe it or not, the truth is, he was happy—no, thrilled, just like a regular movie fan.”

“‘Wow, Superman!’ I can still remember him clenching his fists and cheering quietly. It was clear he’d been looking forward to this, maybe even more than the flash mob event itself.”

“I asked him at the time, ‘Shouldn’t we be watching Catch Me If You Can?’ His reply was, ‘If you want to see Catch Me If You Can, you can watch it in the theater. But for an outdoor screening, an old movie just hits differently.’”

“God, in that moment, who wouldn’t love Anson?”

The truth was, Anson was genuinely happy and excited. The weariness and fatigue from the promotional tour had completely disappeared, and he radiated a joyous energy.

Promotion, box office numbers, work—all of that was set aside. The only thing that mattered was the movie, as he reconnected with the identity of an ordinary moviegoer.

He moved forward, merging into the crowd—

Ah.

Ahhhh!

Little gasps echoed around him.

Anson smiled. “Haha, your reactions are going to make me sad.”

It wasn’t screaming; rather, people were stepping back in surprise, making way for him.

With one joke, the crowd burst into laughter.

The next second, someone excitedly extended an invitation.

“Anson, come over here, join us!”

“Here, Anson! Woo!”

Everyone tried to seize the opportunity, but Anson’s gaze finally landed in a certain direction.

“Thanks for the invite, but I see my friends. Movie nights should be enjoyed with friends, right?”

As he spoke, he started walking.

Friends?

A sea of question marks appeared as everyone watched him move.

Strangely enough, the dense crowd automatically parted as he walked, forming a path that led him to his destination.

“Hey, Blair, Karen! You’re here for the movie too?”

Thud, thud, thud.

Blair could hear her heartbeat pounding in her chest, solid and strong, as if it would burst through any second.

And then, explosion.

Her eardrums were left with a roaring echo.

The world went silent.

Blair forgot to cheer, forgot to scream, forgot to cry, forgot to react. It felt like her soul had left her body, floating among the clouds, looking down at herself, frozen in place, watching Anson. She felt weightless, everything around her bathed in a honey-like glow.

“Blair…”

“Blair.”

A voice called her name, pulling her soul back down, and with a jolt, she returned to her body, slowly regaining her senses.

“Can I sit here?”

Anson hadn’t sat down yet but smiled as he asked.

Blair nodded dumbly, barely understanding what was happening.

Instinctively, she turned and saw Karen with a completely smitten expression, drool almost slipping out.

Blair quickly elbowed her, snapping her back to reality—otherwise, Karen would regret that drool forever.

Karen finally regained a bit of composure, blurting out without thinking, “Anson, you look so handsome tonight.”

A roar of laughter erupted around them, accompanied by soft squeals.

Anson smiled warmly, “Thank you. That’s the goal of dressing up.”

Pfft.

More laughter.

Karen realized what she’d just said, but it was too late to feel embarrassed. She chuckled along, her spirits soaring.

People always say that distance creates allure, especially with Hollywood stars. Up close, they often don’t live up to the on-screen persona, or worse, they’re completely different.

But Blair didn’t think that about Anson—at least not him.

Being near Anson, she felt his true charm.

A faint scent lingered in the air, a mix of pine, vanilla, and amber, crisp and fresh, like a gentle March breeze wrapping around her, making her lose herself without realizing it.

She drifted off into a daze.

So, was tonight real? Or just a long dream?

Wasn’t Anson supposed to be in Boston? She and Karen had pretty much given up hope of figuring out his next move during the flash mob events. Instead of setting themselves up for disappointment again, they came to Washington Square to take a breather.

And then?

They found themselves swept into a whirlwind, like Dorothy entering Oz, encountering surprise after surprise, following a yellow brick road in a fairytale.

But what if she didn’t want to go home?

Blair thought she couldn’t like Anson any more than she already did, but tonight was so wonderful, it felt unreal. Even though they hadn’t parted yet, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness.

“Are you okay?”

A voice brought her back. Blair looked up and, in the next second, met Anson’s clear, sky-blue eyes. Her heart stopped.

The world was reduced to a single roaring sound.

God, if this was a dream, could she stay in Oz forever?