Captivated, lost, as if in a dream—
Even after the performance ended, and even as the crowd gradually dispersed, my mind was still buzzing, struggling to distinguish between reality and fantasy.
"...God, that was like a dream."
"I'm obsessed with them."
"Can you believe it? We actually became part of the live show."
"Wow, if I hadn't experienced it myself and knew this wasn't planned ahead of time, I wouldn't believe anyone telling me this."
"I mean, their music was just that good."
"Wait, what was the band's name again?"
"Why does the lead singer look familiar, like that actor who played Spider-Man?"
"Anson Wood? No way. Anson Wood is just a pretty face, period. Nothing more. Did you see how that lead singer controlled the stage?"
"A hidden gem, absolute treasure. Where did this come from?"
"But seriously, I really think that lead singer looks like Anson Wood."
"...Could it be?"
The murmurs and chatter were endless.
People couldn't stop talking, even as they left the venue. Strangers and strangers, no one cared—they were all headed home in the same direction, striking up conversations without needing introductions. Just sharing this common experience was enough to form an instant connection.
The excitement was spreading in all directions.
It just couldn't stop.
Meanwhile, the exit of the subway station was still buzzing with activity.
After the show, the crowd's first reaction wasn't to leave, but rather to swarm forward, trying to express their excitement and joy even further.
Unfortunately, words were pale and powerless, incapable of capturing even a fraction of the overwhelming emotions inside. In the end, all that was left was a mass of people screaming "Ahhh!" in unison, which still didn't do justice to the crowd's fervor.
Luckily, there was a more straightforward solution—
Records.
Owning a record from the band would be like having a ray of sunshine to brighten up the dreariness of everyday commutes, brought to life by a simple portable player.
There was no doubt—it was worth it.
One after another, the spectators eagerly lined up to buy the record without hesitation.
Camilla was no exception. Even though she already had a record in her canvas tote, she didn't mind buying another one to keep in her collection.
She knew she would be listening to it over and over again, and it would be a shame if the disc got scratched.
She stood in line patiently, following the slow-moving queue. Although the wait was long, she was filled with joy and excitement.
Sure, she had a terrible day, and the scars and pains were still there, with problems still waiting for her to deal with.
But now, none of it seemed to matter. Any difficulty, any storm—these were just parts of life that would eventually pass. The only thing she could do was seize the moment and enjoy every second of it.
All the way to the ends of the earth.
Camilla's eyes were naturally drawn to the band's lead singer—
There was something about him. Even in the midst of a massive, surging crowd, he effortlessly commanded attention.
Camilla didn't shy away, looking him up and down with confidence. But as she kept watching, she realized something seemed off.
Originally, Camilla thought the band was just another struggling British indie band. After all, Paris and London were only a bridge apart, and it wasn't uncommon for bands to come to Paris to busk on the streets.
However, the more she looked, the more the lead singer reminded her of Anson Wood.
Two years ago, Anson took Paris Fashion Week by storm with Dior, sparking endless discussion. Then last year, he dominated the public eye with the unbelievable success of two blockbuster films.
In Paris, it was no different.
However, the artsy crowd in Paris tended to be more critical:
Is Anson a model or an actor? Or just another Hollywood product?
Their words often carried a hint of disdain.
Parisians preferred simpler, more focused artists—those who dedicated years to cultivating their talent in their own little corner of the world, waiting to bloom into something truly extraordinary.
Like the indie band before her.
But—
Camilla couldn't reconcile the image of Anson with the lead singer she was staring at. She began to doubt herself.
Could she have mistaken him for someone else?
Maybe.
Especially considering how the lead singer was dressed—just a simple T-shirt and jeans, nothing like Anson's fashion-forward, statement-making outfits. His natural charm shone through in a much more down-to-earth way.
The more she looked, the less he resembled Anson.
Then, it was finally Camilla's turn in line.
She was about to buy another record, but at the last second, she hesitated and turned back.
"Sorry, but... are you Anson?" she asked.
Anson was taken aback for a moment. "Yes."
Camilla blinked. "Anson Wood?"
Anson shrugged lightly. "Yes."
Camilla blurted out, "Damn."
The curse slipped out as her eyes widened in disbelief.
Anson raised a finger to his lips, "Shh."
Camilla, completely stunned, walked away in a daze.
Even after leaving the crowd, she still couldn't believe her own conclusion—
Was that really Anson Wood?
She stood there, trying to recall every detail, but she still couldn't be sure. Anson seemed so calm and collected that she couldn't tell if he was joking or not.
Taking a deep breath, Camilla turned and ran home.
She needed the internet to help her figure this out.
So, how should she search?
Anson Wood—yes, search for Anson first.
However, the results were limited.
Camilla did notice one thing: Anson was starring in a film called The Elephant, which had been selected for the main competition at the Cannes Film Festival. This meant Anson would be arriving in France soon.
This would be his first return to France since his breakthrough at Paris Fashion Week two years ago.
But this wasn't enough to prove anything.
Next step.
Camilla searched through the band's record, scanning the details, then entered "August 31st"—
No results, just a calendar.
How about the keyword "band"?
Still nothing useful, leaving Camilla feeling a bit frustrated.
Clearly, the band was an unknown, just as she had suspected. Even the American media hadn't linked Anson to the band yet.
Was everything just Camilla's imagination? Was the lead singer joking?
Still, Camilla didn't give up. She kept her cool and continued to search, page by page.
Gradually, she started to find some information. The band had been touring and performing on streets across various cities, and some people on forums were beginning to notice this indie group.
It was clear that the band had been performing on the streets of Europe for some time—
Heading south.
And then, Camilla stumbled upon a forum where a helpful user had posted a link.
Wait, what's this?