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### Chapter 516: Switching Gears

Darren had always believed that becoming famous was the easiest part of the journey.

Of course, it's not that gaining fame is genuinely easy—Los Angeles is full of struggling actors, writers, and directors, all trying to make ends meet while chasing their dreams in the cutthroat entertainment industry. This reality is far from the glamorous depiction in movies.

What Darren meant is that after achieving fame and entering the limelight, the real challenges begin: facing numerous tests, dealing with the pressure to maintain success, and constantly having to make difficult decisions. That's where the true trials lie.

In comparison, gaining fame is indeed the simplest step. After all, this is Hollywood, where opportunities abound. Every day, new actors, new topics, and new trends emerge, creating a dizzying array of possibilities.

Anson now finds himself in such a position.

The explosive success of "Spider-Man" has quickly propelled Anson to the forefront of the new generation. From here on, every step will be more difficult and dangerous than the last.

Darren expected Anson to hesitate, to have doubts, or to let the success go to his head like a hot-air balloon drifting in the clouds, overwhelmed with countless ideas.

If that were the case, it would be understandable—

After all, young people often believe they can easily conquer the world. Just give them a long enough lever, and they think they can move the Earth.

Perhaps Anson isn't even interested in this project. Maybe he already has his next move planned out, or perhaps he's ambitiously trying to carve out his own path.

Darren had seen this countless times in Hollywood, so it wouldn't be surprising. Still, Darren wanted to help Anson, offering some advice from someone who's been there. That’s why he made the call, hoping Anson would seriously consider the opportunity.

But now, it seems Darren was overthinking it.

Darren thought the Woods must be quite pleased.

“If the director agrees, would you really be willing to star in this film?”

Anson didn’t hesitate, “Of course.”

A smile crept up on Darren’s face, and he nodded lightly, showing a hint of admiration. Even he couldn’t help but be curious about what path Anson, the actor, would take next.

“Alright, I’ll talk to the director. As you said, the final decision lies with Gus.”

After hanging up the phone, Anson immediately dialed Edgar’s number.

Anson firmly believes that an agent and an actor should be a team that supports each other. While the actor has the final say in choosing projects and roles, the agent also plays a crucial role in shaping the actor’s career. By communicating openly, they can stay on the same page and create a synergy where the whole is greater than the sum of its parts.

So far, Anson and Edgar’s collaboration has been smooth.

After listening carefully to Anson’s account, Edgar pondered for a moment before offering his opinion.

“For the next step, my suggestion is either to take on another commercial film—preferably a romantic comedy. This would help you shed the high school image and make people start seeing you as a man. It would also capitalize on your current momentum to establish a heartthrob image.”

“Or, you could take a 180-degree turn and choose a project that defies all expectations. Actors often fear changing their image or breaking free from typecasting because it’s risky. But sooner or later, every actor has to face this challenge, so why not boldly break the mold before your image is fully established?”

“Making a change now is safe because at least you have the ‘Spider-Man’ sequel as a fallback. It wouldn’t put us in a difficult position and could even open up new possibilities.”

“The biggest mistake right now would be greed.”

“Wanting everything and being cautious about everything might land you in a position where you’re neither here nor there. I think Gus Van Sant is an excellent choice.”

“Based on your description, his movie is a purely independent project, likely to head to the Sundance Film Festival. With Gus’s reputation, regardless of the film’s quality, this could be your first step into the world of independent cinema.”

As an agent, Edgar’s perspective was different from Anson’s, but he also recognized this as a valuable opportunity.

As for the pay—

“No one does independent films for the money.”

Edgar wasn’t worried about those details. His main concern was:

The schedule.

“If this project goes through, you might have to head to Portland immediately. What about the recording? The album is halfway done; are you just going to leave it hanging?”

He didn’t say everything out loud.

What Edgar didn’t mention was that the band members were entirely dependent on Anson. Without him, there wouldn’t be an album, so they probably wouldn’t complain. Even if Anson left the album unfinished to shoot a movie, they wouldn’t object; however, just because they didn’t voice their thoughts doesn’t mean they didn’t have any.

In the future, when the band finds success and its members enter the spotlight, their mindset might change. The unresolved issues of today could become the ticking time bombs of tomorrow.

It’s not that Edgar was being paranoid, but rather that the spotlight has a way of changing people. From Hayden to Brad, Anson’s world was already beginning to shift under the scrutiny of the public eye.

Edgar was confident that Anson was aware of this too.

Anson didn’t pick up on Edgar’s unspoken concerns. “If possible, I’d prefer to finish one thing before starting another. Spreading myself too thin might lead to accomplishing nothing at all.”

“But to be honest, getting that call just now was a bit of a relief.”

“We need to take a step back with the recording process. We’ve been too eager, too restless, trying to make this album perfect. We’re so focused on getting it right that we’ve trapped ourselves.”

“Taking a break in the middle, giving our minds a chance to cool down, and reassessing the situation might help us find a more relaxed and creative approach.”

Anson was sincere.

As expected—

There was still much to learn in the world of music. As a listener, it was easy to criticize an album for lacking cohesion or innovation. But now, being directly involved in the creation process, Anson understood the difficulties, especially when it came to balancing commercial appeal with artistic integrity.

It’s as hard as climbing a mountain.

“For now, let’s not focus on the movie project. I’m planning to suggest to the band members that we take a few days off, hit pause, and clear our minds of distractions.”

Hearing this, Edgar felt reassured.

“As long as you’re clear on what you’re doing, that’s all that matters.”

“Also.”

“Be careful with the paparazzi. That TMZ website is no joke. They’re getting more and more sources, likely with help from insiders in the industry. They’re all over you right now, trying to dig up anything they can.”

“I know you’re not worried about the paparazzi, but there are just so many of them.”

Edgar couldn’t help but give a word of caution—

The higher you climb, the colder it gets.

They had just started their ascent to the top, but already, challenges were everywhere.

Edgar wasn’t nervous; instead, he felt more driven than ever. After all, this was the Hollywood they had envisioned, wasn’t it?

### Chapter 517: Fair Trade

On one side, Anson had everything prepared and running smoothly. Not only had he reached a consensus with Edgar, but he also sat down with the band members to have a calm discussion.

Setting aside the "elephant in the room," the truth was that the album recording wasn't going well. They needed to clear their minds, adjust their attitudes, and refocus.

After some discussion, Miles and the others agreed that taking a few days off from recording to relax and clear their heads was absolutely necessary.

Anson didn't hold back; he openly mentioned a potential movie project, which immediately got Connor and the others excited. They started teasing Anson, joking that the only reason he suggested a break was to shoot a movie.

Anson didn’t argue. He raised his hands and said, "Please, let this happen. I hope the movie goes forward so I can try juggling two things at once."

His open and honest attitude made everyone burst into laughter.

However, Anson wasn’t lying; the decision wasn't up to him.

On the other side, Darren passed his suggestions to HBO, leaving it to the network and Gus to discuss.

Unexpectedly, but not surprisingly, Gus didn’t immediately agree or refuse. He said he needed time to think about it, and then he left.

From fashion to the band to talk shows, Anson had been in the news a lot over the past six months, which was a positive factor for most people. But for Gus, these external distractions were actually a negative.

Gus needed to see Anson’s work, free from distractions, to ensure he could fully return to his role as an actor.

No one knew what Gus was thinking, and HBO didn’t push him. Gus went silent for three days, as if he had disappeared into thin air.

Just when HBO was about to give up and consider other options, Gus responded.

"Alright."

With this concise and straightforward reply, everything immediately changed.

Unexpectedly and suddenly, Anson’s next project was confirmed just like that. And it turned out to be a collaboration with HBO, something Anson hadn’t anticipated at all.

However, Gus had one condition:

Keep it low-key.

"Don’t bring those pests to Portland."

That was Gus's exact wording.

Anson hadn’t spoken to Gus directly, so he wasn’t sure why Gus agreed, but he could sense the disdain and rejection in those words, even a bit of prejudice from the outset.

But at least one thing was clear:

Low-key. Low-key. And still low-key.

Originally, the project’s subject matter was sensitive and needed to be handled with care. If Anson’s involvement brought too much attention or controversy, the crew would face tremendous pressure, potentially affecting the shoot.

Keeping a low profile was another way of saying, "Stay focused."

It was evident that Gus was a director fully devoted to the craft of filmmaking, putting the movie above all else.

Without even meeting him yet, Anson was already deeply impressed by this director.

This meant that before heading to Portland, Anson had some loose ends to tie up—loose ends and pests.

Knock, knock!

Harry Percy turned his head and saw Anson, causing him to choke on his own breath, almost coughing himself off balance.

Honestly, since Anson started sporting stubble, his smile hidden behind the beard gave him a different look from his usual image, making him seem unfamiliar. But those eyes—clear and bright—were still unmistakable, like they could see through any disguise.

If Harry's heart were any weaker, he might’ve fainted right there.

Holding his breath, Harry stared blankly at the smiling face outside the car window for what felt like an eternity. Seeing Anson standing there, unusually patient and composed, made Harry realize the situation, drooping his head in resignation.

Squeak. Squeak.

The car window slowly rolled down, agonizingly slow, as if it would never open fully.

The atmosphere grew awkward instantly.

Harry’s expression turned awkward too, as he pointed at the window, trying to explain but then realizing there was really nothing to explain. So, he just mumbled until the window was completely down.

"Cough, cough, Anson."

Harry greeted him.

Anson showed no signs of impatience or anxiety, remaining calm, but when he spoke, he got straight to the point without hesitation.

"Kevin, are you interested in making a deal?"

Harry stiffened, his face turning red. "I’m not Kevin."

Anson raised an eyebrow slightly, giving Harry a half-smile, as if to say, Is that really the point?

Harry felt frustrated and shot Anson an annoyed look. "I’m not interested. There’s nothing between us to trade."

"Oh, really? I thought your daily job was all about trading—trading time for exclusives, trading information for information, trading money for tips. So, you should be able to trade with anyone."

"…I’m not interested in trading with you."

Harry hesitated. He was worried that if he made a deal with Anson, he might end up selling himself out without even realizing it, all while thinking he’d scored some big exclusive.

Live and learn. He knew he needed to be extra cautious around Anson.

But to his surprise, Anson wasn’t discouraged. He continued, unfazed and unconventional, "Well, that’s a problem because I really want to make this trade."

Harry blinked, staring at Anson in confusion.

On one hand, alarms were going off in his head—something wasn’t right about this.

On the other hand, his curiosity was piqued, almost uncontrollably so.

It was torturous. Absolutely torturous.

Indeed, every time he dealt with Anson, he had to be extra, extra cautious. He had no idea what Anson’s next move would be.

Thinking this, Harry decided to push back. He couldn’t keep being passive, right?

"But why?"

"What reason do you have to make a deal with me?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Harry immediately shook his head, stopping Anson from answering.

"No, no, no. Don’t tell me. I’m not interested and I don’t want to know."

If Anson started talking, he might get sucked into Anson’s pace. Better to keep his distance from the start—that was the best approach.

Anson’s eyes twinkled with amusement. "Alright."

Harry: ???

With that, Anson didn’t linger. He turned around and walked away without a second thought, his steps brisk and decisive.

Harry: That’s it?

Wait a minute. After throwing out all those words, Anson just retreated so easily?

What was that supposed to mean?

What was Anson really up to?

If he didn’t cooperate, would Anson just find another paparazzo to work with?

Thoughts swirled through his mind, and Harry could no longer control himself. He opened the car door and rushed after him. "Anson, what deal?"

Anson didn’t stop right away, making Harry more anxious, caught between curiosity and nervousness. "Anson, wait, Anson!"

Finally, Anson stopped.

Harry nearly crashed into Anson’s back, and then he saw the calm, confident smile on Anson’s face, setting off alarms again.

Anson spread his hands. "Kevin, playing hard to get is such a simple tactic, and you still fell for it. Are you sure you’re okay with that?"

Harry: …

Can I curse?

"Can I curse?"

"Haha, of course you can."

A beat late, Harry realized he had actually spoken his internal complaint out loud.

And Anson had even responded.

This was just…

Damn it!

He felt so humiliated he wanted to disappear on the spot.

*Chapter 518: The Devil's Contract*

Harry had always believed that something was off about Anson.

It wasn’t because he was inexperienced or a rookie, but because Anson always played by his own rules. No one could understand how Anson's mind worked, and if you weren’t careful, you could easily get caught up in his whirlwind.

So, even if you ended up losing face in front of Anson, it wasn’t really something to be ashamed of... right?

Taking a deep breath, and then another, Harry barely managed to keep his cool.

“Why?”

“Why do you want to make a deal with me?”

Harry tried to take control of the situation, refusing to play by Anson's rules. He expected Anson to dodge the question and throw it back at him, but to his surprise, Anson once again broke the mold.

“Because I plan to use you to deal with the other paparazzi.”

He... actually answered—

But, is that really okay?

Harry’s face was dark with disbelief. “Are you openly treating me like a tool?”

“Yes.” Anson smiled broadly.

Harry: …

Anson added, “If you feel like cursing, go ahead.”

The curse was on the tip of Harry’s tongue, but he swallowed it back down, glaring at Anson. He just didn’t want to play along.

Anson continued, “Instead of sugarcoating things, let’s be honest. You use me, I use you, and we both get what we want. Sometimes, when everything’s laid out on the table, things are simpler. Or would you rather I stab you in the back?”

Harry shot Anson a frustrated look—

He’d already said everything, both good and bad. What else could Harry do? Sure, he’d like to sneak behind Anson’s back and betray him, but if they were going to be scheming against each other, Harry wasn’t confident he’d win.

So, what now?

Harry’s mind was racing, his brain working overtime to find a solution.

In the end, Harry couldn’t resist the temptation. “Why don’t you tell me more about this deal?”

Anson didn’t hold back and went straight to the point. “I need to leave Los Angeles for a while, and I want you to create the illusion that I’m still in the City of Angels. As long as the other paparazzi and the media don’t catch on, you’ve done your job.”

In short, a smokescreen.

Harry: … What?

His mind was full of questions, but he focused on the most important one. “And what do I get out of this?”

Anson started counting on his fingers.

“First, you’ll know where I’m going.”

“Second, you get to outsmart the entire Hollywood media.”

“Third, to make it believable, my manager will give you some exclusive photos to keep the spotlight on TMZ.”

“And lastly, the most important part: when it’s all over, TMZ will have the exclusive story, and you can reveal the magic trick.”

“Wow.”

“Honestly, I think this is a pretty good deal.”

Harry crossed his arms, taking on a defensive posture—

He knew it was a good deal, way better than he expected, almost too good to be true.

But that’s exactly why Harry became even more cautious:

There’s no such thing as a free lunch.

“But why?”

The reason wasn’t actually complicated.

Anson could disappear quietly, but it would be difficult this time.

He could sneak out of Los Angeles in the dead of night and drive to Portland, but in doing so, the paparazzi might notice his absence within hours, causing a big uproar—

Inside and out, they’d dig deep, making a big show of looking for him.

Even though it wasn’t the social media age yet, so there wasn’t the constant threat of smartphones popping up everywhere; the fuss the paparazzi would create could become tabloid fodder, sparking discussion.

By then, even if Anson was hiding in the Portland suburbs, he wouldn’t be able to find peace.

Anson’s whereabouts being exposed was one thing; disrupting the filming of “Elephant” was another, and that’s something Anson didn’t want to happen.

So, the best solution wasn’t for him to quietly disappear, but to use TMZ’s help, getting Harry and Edgar to create a diversion—

Pulling the wool over everyone’s eyes.

Things were about to get interesting.

TMZ, according to Anson’s memory, didn’t appear until 2005 in his previous life, rising to prominence after repeatedly breaking big stories that were later confirmed. In just a few years, it became a leading gossip outlet.

But now, because of Anson, that butterfly effect, TMZ was appearing three years earlier, and it was being created by someone he knew.

History really was an interesting thing.

In Anson’s view, the line between paparazzi and journalists was blurring more and more in the internet age. They were all caught up in the storm of entertainment and fake news, with so-called professionalism and ethics being redefined.

So, Anson had no qualms about working with the paparazzi.

Simply put, it was a matter of mutual benefit.

The paparazzi needed a steady stream of exclusives, and Anson needed a period of time free from distractions to focus on his work.

But this time, Anson wasn’t going to give Harry an answer—

He was never one to play nice.

“Because I want to.”

The straightforward answer left Harry momentarily speechless.

A smile flickered in Anson’s eyes as he delivered his trump card.

“TMZ, that’s your website, right?”

“You guys need traffic and exclusives. If I disappear quietly…”

Harry countered, “All the paparazzi in Los Angeles will be on the move.”

Anson nodded slightly. “Yes, that’s true, but whether or not they find me, TMZ won’t have any chance at an exclusive.”

Harry: … Damn.

Anson’s smile deepened. “So, if you play along, you not only get a series of updates, but also a major exclusive.”

Even though Anson was smiling, Harry felt like prey, slowly walking into a trap.

Harry tried to stay sharp. “And what about you? What do you get out of this deal?”

A quiet filming location, an uninterrupted schedule, and a finished “Elephant.”

But Anson wasn’t going to answer. “We both get what we need. You get what you want, and I get what I want. No need to ask too many questions.”

Harry wasn’t falling for it. “What if the exclusive you’re hiding is bigger than we imagined?”

“Hah.” Anson laughed heartily. “Then you’ll just have to take a gamble, won’t you?”

Harry was about to say something, but Anson shook his head. “No more questions.”

“Tick-tock, tick-tock, time’s running out.”

“Now, it’s up to you whether you want to sign a contract with the devil.”

As he spoke, Anson started to step back.

Harry’s mind was torn in two, with an angel and a devil on his shoulders. Should he trust Anson? Or should he pretend to agree, only to stab Anson in the back and secretly uncover the real exclusive?

All’s fair in love and war, right?

But as soon as that thought surfaced, Harry noticed Anson’s gaze, a knowing smirk on his face, as if he could see right through Harry’s thoughts. That unnerving sense of exposure sent a shiver down Harry’s spine.

With that realization, Harry made up his mind—

“Okay.”

As soon as the word left his mouth, a rush of regret and excitement, thrill, and anxiety flooded through him. So this is what it feels like to make a deal with the devil?

*Chapter 519: The Great Escape*

Los Angeles, the City of Sound.

Early in the morning, birds perched on branches, singing cheerfully. The morning rush hour hadn't fully begun, with only occasional roars of engines breaking the silence, making the world feel even more peaceful.

"Hey, Harry, spent the night here again? Is Anson still pulling an all-nighter?"

"Screw off!"

In response to a colleague’s probing, Harry Percy flipped the middle finger, which made the few paparazzi who had just arrived at the scene burst into laughter and start teasing him.

"Come on, Harry, how long has Anson and his little band been holed up in there? Two weeks? Three? They’re practically rotting inside. All of Hollywood knows by now, it wouldn’t hurt to share some info."

"Yeah, yeah. How’s the recording going? Any fights? Screaming matches? Did someone storm out?"

"They didn't stay in there all night again, did they?"

A barrage of taunts followed.

Harry rolled his eyes, not bothering to hide his annoyance.

"Anson's not in the City of Sound anymore."

Huh?

For a moment, the world seemed to fall silent, as if someone hit the mute button. One by one, everyone stared at Harry in shock.

"I said, Anson's gone. Not just from the City of Sound, he's left L.A. altogether. I tried following him last night but got ditched."

Half true, half false—

Last night, Anson did leave L.A., and Harry did try to tail him, thinking it wouldn’t hurt to be a little sneaky. He had agreed to help Anson throw off the other paparazzi, but he never promised not to follow Anson himself.

The result?

He got pulled over by two traffic cops for a DUI check, but Harry swore he saw Edgar’s car pass by, and Edgar exchanged a glance with the cops.

Like a mantis stalking a cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.

Damn it!

Harry would never admit that he, a seasoned paparazzo, got outwitted.

Anyway, Anson had left L.A. and disappeared into the vast crowds of North America. Harry had no leads for now.

If he couldn’t find Anson, neither could the other paparazzi. So, he figured he’d help Anson out a bit and score an exclusive scoop later.

And so, here they were.

Blurring the lines between truth and falsehood.

Harry knew that if he told the truth, his colleagues wouldn’t believe him. They were all sharp as tacks, and the more he insisted Anson had left L.A., the more convinced they’d be that he was still in town.

See—

"Yeah, right."

"We’ll believe that when pigs fly."

"What are you rambling about?"

Naturally suspicious, the paparazzi's first reaction was to think Harry was trying to throw them off, shifting their attention so he could get a better lead on Anson.

Harry remained calm, shrugged, and said, "If you don't believe me, go check the City of Sound yourselves. Anson and the band are gone. They said they needed a break to clear their heads."

The truth was right there.

But no one believed it.

"Then why are you still here?"

"If they went off for a break, why didn’t you follow?"

"Did they leave one by one or all together?"

A flurry of questions followed.

But Harry wasn’t planning on answering. He needed to keep sparring with his colleagues.

Now Harry was starting to understand what Anson meant—

Toying with the paparazzi could actually be pretty fun.

Harry ignored the others, turned on his car radio, and started listening to the broadcast, enjoying himself while the other paparazzi exchanged puzzled looks.

Harry couldn’t help but wonder, where was Anson now?

...

Portland.

Anson was in Portland.

Actually, he hadn’t gone far; he was just in Oregon, right above California. After shaking off his tail, the world had returned to silence.

Originally, Edgar had planned to get Anson an assistant. Now that Anson’s career was taking off, especially with the exposure from “Spider-Man,” managing everyday tasks was getting harder, and he really needed an assistant.

Recently, Anson had been holed up in the recording studio day and night, so he didn’t need an assistant. But now that he was back in acting, an assistant would come in handy.

However, Anson refused—

Judging by various signs, Gus didn’t like a big entourage. Plus, all the other actors in “Elephant” were just regular high school students. If Anson showed up with an assistant, it would mess with the filming atmosphere.

Since this was an indie film, he’d go indie all the way.

So, Anson set off on his own.

Since the “Spider-Man” promotion tour, Anson hadn’t breathed the fresh air of freedom in a long, long time. Usually surrounded by crowds, he was finally back to being alone—

It felt like a weight had lifted.

The noise and chaos gradually faded, and his shoulders relaxed.

Portland’s city streets had a cool, distant vibe. Whether it was the wide streets, the low-rise buildings, or the city’s 1970s aesthetic, everything felt like it was held at a distance.

Anson couldn’t help but wonder if this was why Gus chose Portland to film the movie.

Was it because of this atmosphere?

It seemed expansive and open, yet it actually distanced people from each other. The subtle chill and oppression silently enveloped everyone.

Of course, it could just be Anson’s preconceived notions. He was just a visitor, and first impressions were often deceptive.

So, Anson deliberately slowed his pace, taking in the city streets. At the end of his leisurely stroll, he arrived at the film’s shooting location—

A high school.

Just an ordinary high school, with students running around the playground and hallways. The noisy break-time atmosphere was the same for teenagers everywhere.

In small groups, they hung out together. A group of pretty girls discussed fashion, while passing jocks eyed them and whistled. Nerds, hugging their books, tried to cross the playground to the library as inconspicuously as possible. Under the shade in the corner, a group of top students discussed math problems. Meanwhile, pranksters chased each other, startling birds into flight with exaggerated laughter as they zoomed by...

A few simple strokes painted a picture of everyday high school life.

The “Elephant” crew would film on location at this very ordinary high school, and most of the students in the movie would be real students from this school—

Filming a narrative film in a documentary style.

It was a brand-new experiment, and just imagining it made Anson excited.

Then, Anson noticed a figure.

A student quietly crossed the playground, trying to avoid the bustling areas, heading towards the classrooms. He seemed cautious, constantly glancing around, watching the carefree students with a mix of envy and wariness, but he never slowed his pace.

Wait, was that...

Was he seeing things?

A wave of joy surged through him, and Anson quickly followed.

"Jack!"

*Chapter 520: Escape from New York*

“Jack!”

Anson wasn't entirely sure.

A few months ago, while filming "Cat and Mouse" in New York, he helped a young boy and his mother escape a situation of domestic violence. At the time, he lost track of the boy in the chaos.

But now—

Was that Jack?

“Jack!”

Anson quickened his pace, a flicker of excitement crossing his face. He saw the boy hurriedly gripping the straps of his backpack, quickening his own steps as he kept looking back anxiously. The atmosphere immediately tensed.

Anson quickly stopped, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Jack, it’s me.”

The boy glanced at Anson, turned away in a rush, then looked back again.

Finally, he stopped. His beautiful eyes brightened with recognition and joy as he looked at Anson, his breath momentarily catching.

A pause.

The next second, the boy darted into Anson’s arms like a bird returning to its nest.

Thud!

He crashed into Anson, hugging him tightly with all his strength, his arms clinging firmly as a low sob escaped from deep within his throat.

Anson was startled, completely unprepared for this reaction. Instinctively, he tried to pull away from the hug—

He still wasn’t used to hugging.

But Anson quickly noticed the boy’s trembling shoulders and quiet sobs, like a puppy soaked in the rain, clinging desperately to its lifeline. This softened Anson's heart, and he let out a small sigh.

In the end, Anson didn’t push the boy away.

Anson lifted his right hand, intending to offer some comfort, but his palm hovered in the air, unable to settle.

He couldn’t imagine what the boy had gone through, couldn’t imagine how he had managed to escape New York and make it to Portland, couldn’t imagine how terrified he must have been, constantly fearing his father would find him again.

But he knew what he himself had been through.

When life hits rock bottom, others can do little more than offer words of encouragement, like "hang in there" or "it’ll get better." These kind words provide a small measure of warmth. Yet, sometimes—

Even a “hang in there” can become a burden.

Because even encouragement requires mental and physical strength, and in certain moments, when you lack the energy to even lift your head and look at the stars, those encouraging words can become the last straw that breaks you.

In those darkest moments, when you're on the brink of despair, what you need isn’t a “hang in there,” but just someone to be there with you.

So that when you finally have the strength to look up, you see someone quietly standing by your side, reminding you that you’re not alone in facing the endless, dark night. And that’s enough.

Here and now, it was the same.

So, Anson’s gently raised hand didn’t fall on the boy’s shoulder after all.

If he needed a hug, then Anson would wait right there to give him one.

A hug that was both brief and endless.

It was the boy who eventually realized something was wrong, awkwardly releasing his grip, looking up at Anson with tear-filled eyes.

“Sorry, I…uh, I shouldn’t have, I just…I just really wanted to hug you.”

Anson understood. He understood everything.

So, he smiled. “I’m right here.”

The boy blinked, then, seeing Anson’s encouraging smile, he rushed back into Anson’s arms, hugging him tightly once again.

Looking down at the boy whose head barely reached his shoulder, with his thin but stubbornly straightened shoulders, Anson could almost see the scars life had left on him, even though there were no visible wounds.

But—

No matter what, they had finally escaped New York. That was something good.

At last, the boy released his hold again, wiping the tears from his cheeks with his hand and trying to muster a big smile, his eyes shining brightly.

Anson’s mouth curved up in response. “Are you in school here now?”

The boy nodded enthusiastically. “We left New York. My mom and I.” He scratched his head nervously. “We’ve been on the run, always worried…worried he’d find us. We finally ended up in Portland.”

“I thought about going to Los Angeles, but it seemed too obvious. I was worried he might track us down…so Mom said Portland was a good place.”

In just a few words, the boy couldn’t begin to describe the storms they’d weathered.

Especially his mother.

Anson knew how much courage it must have taken for her to leave that family.

When violence becomes a habit, over time, a person might start believing that this is what they deserve, that it’s their fate, and they lose the courage to escape. They’re too afraid to leave, even refuse to leave, letting themselves suffer in hell, like a rope binding them to a camel's back.

Thankfully, she had managed to escape in the end.

“You did great,” Anson said.

The boy looked up slightly, his eyes welling with tears again. “Yeah.” He nodded firmly.

Anson asked, “So, is high school everything you hoped it would be?”

As soon as he mentioned this, the boy started bouncing with excitement. “Of course! Of course, of course, of course! It’s actually better than I imagined. Oh my God, I love it. I love every single second of being here.”

“Did you know we did a real experiment in chemistry class last time?”

“Math is hard, really hard. I hate math with every bone in my body, but our math teacher is such a fun guy. I love the way he talks about the universe. He says that if you want to be an astronomer or an astronaut, you have to be good at math.”

“Oh my God, why did God give me this trial?”

“Ah! And next month, the school’s putting on a Shakespeare play. It’s Shakespeare! I want to audition, but I’m not sure if I’ll be any good.”

He chattered away.

Anson didn’t interrupt, just watching as the boy’s face, full of youth, found joy and happiness once more—

Yes, high school should be a time when boys are free from worries.

After rambling on, the boy finally scratched his head in embarrassment. “Ah, sorry, I think I talked too much.”

“Haha.” Anson laughed. “So, is this the life you dreamed of?”

The boy nodded vigorously, his face glowing with joy.

The ordinary life of other children was his biggest dream.

Anson let out a breath. “So, do you have a new dream now?”

“Astronaut!” The boy’s eyes widened, his clear pupils filled with hopes and dreams for the future, but then he quickly became shy. “I don’t know if I can really do it.”

Anson clenched his fist. “Of course you can. At your age, you can dream of being anything or anyone you want. Even if others say it’s unrealistic, it doesn’t matter. If you don’t dream now, then when will you?”

As they grow older, reality grinds down their edges, making them ordinary and mediocre. They constantly convince themselves that this is what growing up is about; but in truth, it’s the death of their true self and the loss of their individuality, until they can no longer find the shining person they once were.

If there’s still a dream, then you should dare to dream it.

A little bit of craziness is okay.