A figure stood quietly, remaining still until the crowd had dispersed, revealing itself with a hint of awkwardness and unease. Summoning courage, the person waved hesitantly at Anson.
"Hey."
Their expression betrayed slight discomfort, eyes nervously fixated on Anson, cautiously observing his reaction. A faint tension in their nerves and muscles was unmistakable.
Tears brimmed in those beautiful eyes, though they tried to mask them. Traces of tear stains and distress were still visible on their cheeks.
It seemed Anson's recent performance had left a profound impact.
"Until just now, I couldn't be completely sure it was you. But then, who else could it have been? Obviously, no one anticipated it would really be you."
The words attempted a lighthearted tease but faltered due to the tightness in their tone, leaving the humor flat and ineffective.
Clearly, this unexpected encounter had caught both parties off guard.
The atmosphere grew slightly awkward.
Lucas followed Anson's gaze and his expression darkened.
"You should leave."
"If you had any sense, you'd know you're not welcome here. You should pretend you didn't see Anson."
The visitor hesitated, nervously biting their lip. "I was just passing by and overheard—"
Lucas cut them off sharply, "You should have pretended you didn't hear."
The tension in the air thickened.
From Anson's perspective, the scene seemed almost amusing. He broke into a smile.
"Brad, this is Lucas, my brother."
"Lucas, this is Brad Renfro."
Lucas shot Anson a bewildered look, as if questioning his intent to introduce the two.
Anson, still smiling, turned to Brad. "My brother is just trying to protect me. He thinks I'm three years old."
Lucas: … speechless.
Before them stood Brad, someone Anson hadn't seen in quite some time.
Brad still bore the same clean-cut, handsome look, his age hard to pinpoint. Yet it was evident he was in a much better state than a year ago. Free from the grip of alcohol and drugs, his complexion and eyes shone with renewed vitality.
A year isn't long, but in the world of fame and fortune, it can feel like an eternity if work is absent—or it can pass in the blink of an eye if packed with busyness.
Brad managed a faint, awkward smile.
"I don't blame him."
"It seems you know about the stupid things I did."
His gaze shifted to Lucas for the second half of the statement.
Lucas, like a grim reaper, coldly replied, "I know everything. Every single thing."
Anson sighed lightly. "Lucas, it's all in the past. There's no need to cling to it."
Lucas shot him a glare.
Brad looked at Anson with barely concealed delight. "So you mean now it's—"
Back then, Brad had traveled to Malibu to apologize to Anson.
Anson accepted his apology but told him they still needed time. Some things couldn't be swept under the rug with a simple "sorry."
Now, did Anson mean—
Without directly addressing the question, Anson asked, "Did you come to watch the movie today?"
Brad scratched his head. "Yeah, I guess we were in the same screening. The 3 p.m. show."
Anson glanced at Lucas, who was still wearing a grim expression. "Brad was in the same screening as us."
Lucas rolled his eyes: And so?
Anson chuckled and turned back to Brad. "Did you enjoy it?"
Although they hadn't spoken in a long time, and Brad wasn't sure if they could still be considered friends, he had been keeping up with Anson's work.
When Elephant premiered, he had come to support it immediately.
Brad, slightly nervous, replied, "I did. I didn't expect to, honestly."
"Strictly speaking, it's not something you 'enjoy'—the film evokes pain and melancholy. It brought back many memories of my childhood."
"But without a doubt, we need works like this. We need to reflect, to debate, to confront these issues."
"In truth, I admire your choice. Taking on a project like this takes immense courage."
Unintentionally, his nose tingled, and his emotions stirred again.
Brad hadn't expected this.
Hearing Anson sing earlier, he had stood frozen, tears streaming down his face, overwhelmed and lost in the moment.
He couldn't tell if it was the film dredging up his dark memories of homelessness and addiction or regret over his own missteps that hurt both himself and Anson.
Unable to distinguish the source, he had simply stood there, armor shattered.
After the performance, he had told himself to quietly walk away without bothering Anson. Yet his feet wouldn't move, and now he found himself in this awkward position.
Trying to mask his unease, Brad took a deep breath and forced a smile.
"But that's exactly why you're the most unique among us. You know what you want and refuse to be swayed."
Anson laughed lightly. "Brad, relax. There's no need to tread so carefully just because Lucas is glaring at you. This obsequious act doesn't suit you—I almost didn't recognize you."
Lucas, meanwhile, remained unfazed, arms crossed and seated on the steps. Despite Brad standing, Lucas tilted his chin up imperiously, scrutinizing him with a critical air.
Clearly, Lucas had no intention of being friendly.
Anson's comment made Brad chuckle. "So my strategy to curry favor with a superstar failed miserably. Damn, I need to work on it some more."
A flicker of the old Brad returned, with a touch of self-deprecating humor.
Back when they shared a place, Brad had always held Anson in high regard.
There was something about Anson—a wisdom and gravitas that belied his age. While others behaved like overgrown teenagers, Anson stood out with a maturity that seemed almost otherworldly.
Brad, having endured hardship growing up, could sense it, though he often felt unsure how to approach Anson. At times, he even harbored an inexplicable jealousy.
Now, Brad realized how much he had been stuck in his own struggles, never truly growing. Despite his brief stint under the Hollywood spotlight, he had remained a spoiled child at heart, lacking genuine wisdom.
Anson was different.
Brad exhaled softly and studied Anson. This time, he dropped the humor.
"I mean it."
"You always seem to know what you're doing. Even in a place like Hollywood, you don't lose yourself."
"If it were me, I wouldn't have taken on a project like this. But you did."
"What made you decide to do it?"
(End of Chapter)