The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 1447 Creating a Chance Encounter

"Bang!"

A figure accidentally bumped into the coffee table, and the whole world shook. The coffee spilled and the water flooded. It couldn't be worse.

"I'm sorry. Oh, God, I'm sorry!"

The person who had caused the trouble seemed panicked and flustered. He put the things in his hands on the sofa next to Anson, apologized repeatedly, and looked around for tissues to help wipe the coffee that was spreading all over the table.

Fortunately, most of the two cups of coffee on the table had been drunk, and there was very little liquid left in them. Although it was a mess, the disaster was limited.

Anson waved his hand, "It's okay, don't worry."

Anson doesn't want to draw too much attention if it's not necessary, so he keeps a low profile.

The person who had caused the trouble looked at the wet table in front of him, his face full of annoyance and depression, "Sorry, I was too careless, really, really, I'm very sorry."

Anson smiled faintly, "I'm serious, I'm not hurt." Anson raised the book in his hand and showed his pants -

Unscathed.

The troublemaker let out a long breath, the burden on his shoulders finally lifted, "But your coffee... at least allow me to buy you another cup of coffee."

Anson wanted to refuse at first. He had no interest in the second cup of coffee. But seeing the other party's guilt and restraint, he smiled and said, "Then I will accept it. A cup of latte, thank you."

call.

The expression of the man who had caused trouble was visibly relaxed, and then he was busy in and out again, personally delivered the coffee to Anson, and apologized again. Then he found a seat diagonally opposite Anson and collapsed exhausted. Looking at his slightly trembling knees, one could tell the storm he had just experienced.

But before he could completely exhale, he stood up again, collected all the personal belongings he had left on the sofa next to Anson, hugged them tightly in his arms, lay back and fell back into the sofa. This last action seemed to consume all the energy in his body, and he looked exhausted and hopeless.

No words are needed to tell that his mind is blank.

Seeing this, Anson's mouth curled up slightly, but he didn't say anything more and lowered his head to bury himself in the book.

However, the sound of a gasp from the opposite direction still broke the silence, "Anson... Anson..."

The stammering words exposed Anson's true identity. When he looked up, he could see a face full of astonishment, with his eyes almost popping out of his head. He stood there frozen in a daze, as if he had been struck by lightning.

It's not easy to ignore.

Anson laughed dumbly, "Relax, I'm not Dracula."

The troublemaker shook his head stiffly, "You are stranger than Dracula."

"Ha." Anson laughed.

The troublemaker swallowed his saliva and said, "But, how come... So what happened just now was..."

A series of words that were left unsaid but seemed meaningful. It seemed that Anne's retreat was not as silent as imagined, but Anson was mentally prepared for this.

In New York, everyone is focused on their own things and very few are willing to look up and observe other people's lives; but that doesn't mean they turn a blind eye. An occasional casual glance may reveal certain situations.

For example, Anson and Anne.

But this is not the era of smartphones, and passers-by have no way of leaving evidence at any time; this is also not the era of social networks, and any little movement may turn into traffic.

So, no need to worry.

Noticed? Then you have been noticed. Be open and honest. If you try to hide it, it may cause more speculation. It is better to be open and honest.

Anson neither denied nor confirmed it. He met the gaze of the person in front of him with a smile, letting the speculation and conjecture surge and spread in the air.

The troublemaker seemed to realize that he had discovered some secret. He closed his mouth in panic, but he couldn't help but secretly glance at Anson twice. After that, he deliberately straightened his back, trying to hide it. The obvious action exposed the turbulence in his heart, which was really hilarious. "Ahem."

He cleared his throat.

"Anson, I never expected to meet you here. God, this is really... unbelievable."

"Jon-Lucas, a screenwriter."

As he spoke, he stood up and extended his right hand towards Anson, cautiously greeting him.

"I apologize again for what happened just now. I was working on a script and my mind was full of things. I didn't pay attention to my surroundings at all. I was getting into trouble all day. I'm starting to worry that it's dangerous to leave the house when working on a script. Maybe I shouldn't have come out."

Anson raised his chin slightly, looked at Jon with a gentle expression and smiling eyes, but did not say anything in response.

Jon was stunned for a moment, then immediately understood.

"Ah, sorry, I disturbed your own time, didn't I? Look at me, I always fail to notice these things, so I won't bother you now."

"Hopefully I won't end up on your blacklist of people you refuse to cooperate with, ha."

After a small teasing, Jon turned around and walked back to his seat awkwardly.

He had just sat down, took a deep breath, stood up again, held the things in his arms tightly with both hands, and mustered up the courage to turn around and face Anson.

"Anson, I'm so, so sorry to bother you again. I was just thinking about... this script I'm busy with. Do you have time to take a look at it?"

Anson left the book and looked up.

Jon seemed reserved and nervous, swallowing constantly.

"I, uh, I'm busy with this script. I have a lot of ideas in my mind, but I don't know how to organize them. I didn't expect to run into you here by accident."

"I've also heard about the 'Butterfly Effect'. It's no longer a secret in Hollywood. You gave the two screenwriters some advice and helped sort out the script. I thought maybe you could give me some advice to help me out of my current predicament."

Anson raised his eyebrows slightly, "Just to help with the script reference?"

Jon nodded vigorously.

Anson, "If I'm interested, you're not going to invite me to act?"

Jon's eyes lit up. "If you're interested, that would be perfect. But I just hope you can give me some advice."

Anson stared at Jon and groaned, "Hmm... So what you mean is that you didn't spend any effort to create a chance encounter here, but hoped to meet me and give me the script? You didn't invite me to act in it, nor did you hope that I would be interested in the script and then set up a special project?"

Jon: ... "No, of course not, you misunderstood, a complete misunderstanding." Jon laughed in panic, "Ha, everything is a coincidence, really."

Anson raised his chin slightly, "I see."

Jon: That's it? You just believe it?

Anson, "If I misunderstood you, then I apologize."

"I just noticed that after you bumped into the table, you deliberately put the script on the sofa next to me. You didn't even forget to put the script facing me so that I could see it. You kept leaving the script here under the pretext of coffee, hoping that I would be interested in the script."

"Then, in your self-introduction, screenwriter was the key word, and the topic completely revolved around the script. Moreover, you were always observing my expression."

"So, I guess you came here just for me."

"But if it's not, please forgive my presumptuous speculation."

(End of this chapter)