The Best Actor in the Vase of Meiyu

Chapter 1905: Worrying

In the movie theater, amidst the interplay of light and shadow, the black-and-white images still manage to capture the characters' expressions and movements with remarkable clarity and precision, creating a texture akin to an oil painting.

Anne Hathaway was bathed in light and shadow, with sounds echoing in her ears.

This is David Lean's famous work, "The Best Time to Meet," a classic that won the Palme d'Or at the first Cannes Film Festival.

However, with a torrent of thoughts colliding in her mind, Annie couldn't fully concentrate and couldn't help but fiddle with her phone.

Torture. Pain. Torment.

She told herself not to look at her phone. This was a movie theater, and phones shouldn't be used in a movie theater, even if it was a midnight showing and she was the only person in the empty theater. Rules were rules, and she shouldn't do this.

However, after much hesitation and struggle, he finally couldn't resist and opened his phone again—

There were still no phone calls, no text messages, and no messages.

My heart felt like it had been thrown into a frying pan; I tossed and turned, suffering unbearable torment.

Annie held the phone back in her palm, looked up at the large screen, and saw Celia Johnson and Trevor Howard saying goodbye amidst the gloomy and sorrowful atmosphere of the train station filled with smoke.

"Forgive what?"

"Everything. Forgive me for meeting you in the first place, forgive me for wiping the sand from your eyes, forgive me for loving you, forgive me for causing you such pain."

Suddenly, she couldn't hold back anymore. Her vision blurred, and tears welled up in her eyes. Annie awkwardly raised her hand to wipe away her tears, trying to regain her composure, but it was all in vain.

Until the movie ended and the lights and shadows faded, Annie remained immersed in the darkness, quietly waiting for all the light and shadows to disappear and for the lights in the theater to come back on.

Anne quickly composed herself, left her seat, and walked out of the screening room step by step.

The projectionist, who had witnessed everything from the projection room, cautiously remarked, "A wonderful movie, isn't it?"

Anne's eyes were slightly red and swollen, but she had regained her composure and replied loudly, "Yes. It's heartbreakingly beautiful."

The projectionist said, "The more beautiful something is, the more fragile it is. So we need to learn to cherish it."

Anne paused, then left the screening room without saying anything more. A gust of cold wind hit her face, and goosebumps instantly appeared on her arms. The City of Angels had already fallen asleep, and all was quiet. The streets, buildings, and city gradually quieted down.

Compared to cities that never sleep, such as New York and Las Vegas, Los Angeles is not noisy at night. Unless you live in an area with many bars and clubs, it will be quiet by nine or ten o'clock at night. It is not as glamorous and colorful as you might imagine. Tonight is no exception.

Although the Golden Globe Awards ceremony was a lively affair, Los Angeles remained quiet except for a few areas.

Instinctively, Annie wanted to check the time on her phone again, but she knew it was just an excuse, a self-deceiving excuse, and she controlled herself—

Anson has gone missing.

For three whole hours, there was no word from them.

They agreed to meet at this movie theater after midnight, but Anson never showed up after she arrived.

At first, Anne wasn't surprised. She knew what the celebration party was all about, she knew that Anson had a mission to complete that night, and she also knew that Anson was the target of all the paparazzi, so it was perfectly normal for him not to arrive on time. There was no need to make a fuss.

However, the problem is that there is no news and no movement.

Annie tried calling Anson, but no one answered, so she left a message; later, Anson's phone was switched off, and she lost contact with him completely.

Anne didn't want to sit there and overthink things. She kept telling herself that there were many possibilities and there was no need to scare herself unnecessarily. But as time went on, there was still no news. After failing to contact Edgar and Noah, those jumbled thoughts finally broke free and began to surface.

She was worried about Anson's safety and his condition.

Perhaps Anson was tied up at the party, perhaps he was surrounded by paparazzi, perhaps he lost consciousness from drunkenness amidst the clinking of glasses. So many possibilities. The problem is, even Edgar and Noah can't be contacted. Things are getting increasingly bizarre, and the imagination begins to drift into darkness.

Anxious and restless, Annie felt nauseous, as if her internal organs were being tormented.

Involuntarily, Anne recalled Griffith Observatory last summer, where she had also waited all night; and then she remembered the surprise party in London for her birthday last year, where she almost fell asleep hiding in the closet.

And both times, it was because...

stop.

Stop overthinking, stop making wild guesses, and stop ruining yourself by being insecure, suspicious, and fabricating baseless stories.

Stop everything!

Wait, could something have happened to Anson? I've been hearing ambulance sirens and police cars on the streets all night. I hadn't paid much attention before, but now that I've calmed down and thought about it, something seems off.

A terrible thought gripped her heart, and Anne could barely breathe.

Then, at that moment, a voice came from the darkness ahead.

"Annie!"

Annie initially thought she was hallucinating and paused slightly, because she missed him so much, because her mind was filled with images of him, that she was surprised to hear his voice now.

Suddenly looking up, Annie could see a figure bathed in the night sky appear in her field of vision. Her heart clenched, and for a moment she forgot to beat.

Anne could no longer care about anything else. She rushed forward, opened her arms, and hugged the man tightly, as if she wanted to meld herself into his body.

With my ear pressed against my chest, I could clearly hear the pounding of my heart—

Thump. Thump.

Anne was completely absorbed in it, and all her panic and tension instantly relaxed.

"Annie, what's wrong?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I'm really, really sorry, Annie. I should have made a call, but my phone is dead."

“I was followed by paparazzi, and it took me some time to shake them off. I even went to Malibu…” she explained, then stopped halfway through. “No, there’s no excuse. I’m sorry, Anne, it’s all my fault.”

Finally, Annie came to her senses, put a little distance between herself and Anson, looked him up and scrutinized him closely, her eyes filled with a chaotic mix of anxiety and uncertainty.

Anne tried to say something, and tried to ask something, but her mind went blank, and her chaotic emotions turned into a jumbled mess.

She heard her own voice and responded blankly, "Oh, I see."

Anson noticed this, carefully examined Annie, and couldn't help but feel annoyed.

Anson took a deep breath. "Here's what happened. Kevin Feige took some time, then finding Tom Hanks took some time, and when I was about to leave the party, I ran into Scarlett Johansson, who was completely drunk. I couldn't just ignore her."

"However, some chaos broke out at other parties, which complicated things. Even Edgar and Noah were called over to help. After a long wait, Brian Lord finally came to pick up Scarlett himself. But then I got harassed by paparazzi, and that's how things turned out."

"but……"

Anson finally let out a sigh of relief, his face full of frustration. "I'm sorry, Annie, things are a complete mess. I should have called you when I had the chance. It's all my fault."

(End of this chapter)