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At this moment, they were all the same—a group of souls lost in anger and sorrow.
"Elephant", a film like no other, carried far more than just bloodshed and death. Long before the tragedies unfolded, the scars were already there. Those feelings of loneliness, desolation, confusion, and fragility engulfed them, leaving them gasping for air. They tried to cry out for help but could only swallow the bitterness in their mouths, wandering aimlessly and drifting to unknown corners, left to fend for themselves.
For this reason, when the film ended, they couldn't find their voices—
Life is cruel like that. There are no answers.
Even now.
In a fleeting moment, a clean and pure melody seeped through the noise and chaos, gentle and serene. It softly touched the deepest corners of their wounds. The slight sting of being pulled back into reality dragged their souls out of the void. Before they even realized it, they were lost and immersed in the melody.
Quietly, the sound of the guitar strings flowed gently.
The world fell silent.
On the steps in front of Angelika Film Center, a small world took form. Wounded and scarred souls gathered here in silence.
"Then as you run, far from my gaze,
I will appear, in this silent night."
"But I won't speak, not until dawn breaks,
Turning into a song, just a song."
Carrying their scars and pain, they trudged forward in the darkness, barely able to stand, gasping for survival. The agony, torment, and struggles were destroying their souls.
Yet, in the endless darkness, a melody continued to flow—a gentle and resilient tune healing the wounds and infusing strength. It guided them to find a ray of light in the infinite chaos.
He wouldn't come closer, but he wouldn't leave either. He was just there, quietly keeping watch.
He wouldn't force inspiration, nor would he sink into despair. He simply stood there, steadfast and resolute.
Patiently waiting, silently keeping them company, walking alongside them through the abyss.
In an instant, their hearts were struck fiercely. All their armor, masks, and defenses fell away, allowing emotions to surge forth uncontrollably. For once, they let themselves be weak because they knew they weren't alone, because they understood they wouldn't walk this path in solitude.
That voice hummed softly:
"Turbulence flows through the peaks of my soul,
Beloved, you've filled every corner of the canyon."
"Turbulence flows through the peaks of my soul,
Beloved, you've filled every corner of the canyon."
Over and over.
Again and again.
A faint warmth coursed through their hearts, slowly filling the chasms, scars, and dark corners. They closed their eyes involuntarily, drifting in the melody, their tense nerves and muscles gradually relaxing.
At the end of "Elephant", Anson and his father stood at the campus gates, staring at the explosion near the gymnasium. Flames consumed the sky, but they neither ran nor reacted, having lost the ability to respond.
However, his father walked over to stand beside Anson. He raised his right hand, intending to pat Anson's back, but hesitated awkwardly before lowering it again, choosing instead to stand quietly by his side.
No one knew what the future held.
They weren't heroes, nor were they particularly wise. Life had far too many problems and far too few solutions.
So they would continue to wander, lost and confused.
But at least, they wouldn't face it alone.
"Turbulence flows through the peaks of my soul,
Beloved, you've filled every corner of the canyon."
Once. Again.
Unconsciously, their eyes grew moist.
Then, a ray of sunlight broke through, falling over Angelika Film Center, its warm glow easing their tense bodies.
The world lit up.
The performance ended.
Clap, clap, clap.
Applause erupted sporadically from all directions—not loud or overwhelming, but scattered and irregular. Yet, within it, one could feel the strength and warmth behind each clap. Eyes brimming with emotion focused on the guitar strings, unable to contain the surging waves in their hearts.
Lucas watched his younger brother silently, softly calling out, "Anson."
Anson looked over, his gaze questioning.
Lucas had countless words stuck in his throat, unsure how to express them. His eyes showed a mix of struggle and pain.
Catching this, Anson chuckled softly and smiled faintly. "Lucas, I'm fine."
Lucas didn't believe him.
Anson was about to explain that the melody was inspired by the movie—or more precisely, by the audience who were so deeply immersed in the film. It was meant as a small comfort for these lost souls.
But before he could speak, a passerby interrupted.
"Thank you. Thank you for this performance."
Someone approached, prompting Lucas to turn awkwardly to hide his expression.
Anson greeted the newcomer with a gracious smile, appearing at ease.
But as one person came, more followed. Anson suddenly found himself overwhelmed, with no time to dwell on his thoughts. Lucas managed to regain his composure.
"I love this song."
"Did you write it for 'Elephant'?"
"What's the song's name? Who's the artist?"
"What? You wrote this yourself? No wonder I've never heard it before."
"Thank you. You saved my afternoon."
Chatter filled the air, the crowd bustling around Anson.
Lucas's sentimental mood quickly dissipated under the sunlight and commotion. He glanced at Anson, utterly exasperated—always the center of attention, no matter where!
But the important thing was that no one suspected Anson's true identity—not one person.
They thought he was just a street performer, or perhaps an ordinary viewer. No one connected him to Anson Levien.
This made the scene even more astonishing. Even if he wasn't Anson, even if he were just a stranger—or Llewyn Davis—it would still be impossible to ignore his presence.
Lucas caught Anson's pleading glance and reluctantly stepped in to help manage the crowd. Despite rolling his eyes, he stepped forward to take control of the situation.
"The next screening is about to start. Are you planning to watch it again?"
With a small reminder, the crowd's attention shifted back to "Elephant". Should they rewatch it? Or continue discussing it here? They shouldn't lose sight of the moment—their thoughts were born from "Elephant", after all, weren't they?
Gradually, their focus shifted away from Anson.
Anson discreetly wiped away sweat.
In broad daylight, unlike in the tavern, a single misstep could expose his identity. He wasn't keen on causing unnecessary chaos.
Finally, the crisis was averted.
Just as Anson was about to call Lucas to leave, he noticed someone still standing there even as the crowd dispersed. The figure wore a timid smile, their tear-filled eyes glinting faintly in the sunlight.
Their gaze met Anson's. The person offered a small wave, tentatively greeting him.
"Hey."
End of Chapter.