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So, when the bustling crowd occupies every inch of the road and space, how should the directors, actors, and guests step onto the red carpet?
How should they stand under the spotlight, basking in the glow of the lights and the cheers?
How should the core monts of the premiere ignite tonight's passion?
Even Nicholas, along with many others, was curious about this question.
Then, Anson provided the answer:
Why do we need these rituals at all?
Classic Anson.
Since the frawork has already been broken, since innovation has been embraced, why retreat into the safety of the status quo and follow the sa old rules?
Since the celebration has begun, since boundaries have been shattered, why not go all the way, breaking free completely and reimagining the premiere?
And so, Anson made his entrance—
Just like any other audience mber or journalist.
No lights, no security, no red carpet, not even an announcent.
Around him, the bustling noise continued unabated. Yet Anson unintentionally stepped into the fra, creating a scene so surreal it was hard to describe in words.
Even more incredible, New Line Cinema actually agreed to this!
The highlight of The Butterfly Effect was undoubtedly Anson; the entire premiere relied on him to generate buzz. But New Line Cinema still let him do as he pleased.
This… a madman ets another madman, and miracles happen.
Then, Anson casually looked around and enthusiastically pulled Rachel and Heath toward a line on the right. They were ready to queue up.
Nicholas couldn't hold back any longer and quickly moved toward them.
Before long, Nicholas realized he wasn't the only clever one.
Shouldn't be surprising, right?
After all, it was Anson, Heath, and Rachel.
When the three of them stood among the crowd, they stood out so strikingly it was impossible not to notice them.
Nearby, a group of young people couldn't contain their excitent, animatedly sharing information.
"...At least five types, at least. I want to collect them all right now!"
"I heard there was an Easter egg in 1982, a fun story from the year Anson was born—that's the only year with a sixth type."
"Ahhh, what Easter egg? What is it?"
"Oh, excuse , is this the line for the gaming consoles?"
Even in their excitent, they remained polite and orderly.
After receiving confirmation, they refocused on their discussion.
"I just want to collect them all now. These collectibles are so worth it."
"Why doesn't the production team just sell the rchandise outright? I'd buy everything without hesitation!"
"Wait a minute, that guy just now…"
As their chatter continued, they finally sensed sothing was off.
"Anson?"
The figure exploring the premiere's atmosphere with Rachel and Heath instinctively turned his head—it was indeed the sa person who had just confird they were at the back of the line.
"Hey, good evening."
The four young people froze, looking at each other in shock. For a mont, they even forgot to scream. Instead, they exchanged bewildered glances as their brains seed to short-circuit.
Ten ters away, Nicholas saw this scene and felt his heart drop.
This scene—this mont—
Everything pointed to chaos in the next second.
Screaming, cheering, shouting, followed by pushing, crowding, and surging.
The scene could spiral out of control at any mont.
The air grew tense, laden with the pressure of a storm brewing on the horizon.
Just as Nicholas was about to rush forward, soone broke the stalemate.
"...They said all the information on the bookmark collectibles ca from you. Is that true?"
The voice was enthusiastic, excited, and eager but still composed.
Anson smiled. "Partly. Rachel, Heath, and others contributed ideas too. We brainstord to awaken as many mories as possible—not just about the movie."
"What about those prank notes?"
Anson burst out laughing unapologetically. "Haha, those were my idea."
In the brief mont before chaos could erupt, Nicholas had already arrived, panting heavily.
"Anson... Anson!"
All eyes turned toward Nicholas, now drenched in sweat and panting, as though they were watching a lunatic. This left Nicholas swallowing hard in confusion:
Sothing… sothing wasn't right.
This shouldn't be happening, right?
#%&$@...
Nicholas's mind was a jumble of symbols and chaos. But as a seasoned journalist, even in confusion, his instincts kicked in.
"Did you help design the rchandise?"
The dolls!
Nicholas had intended to ask about the three mini-Anson dolls, but in his rush, he left out the crucial detail.
Before he could clarify, Anson nodded.
"Yes. I hoped the art design could stay true to the film while being visually appealing and stylish."
Unlike cheaply made, tacky rchandise, these collectibles should have lasting value.
"So, how's the final product?"
Boom.
Nicholas's mind exploded with a whirlwind of excitent. Cheers and praise surged around him, filling the air with joyful energy.
Just when Nicholas thought the night couldn't get any better, Anson nonchalantly dropped another bombshell, electrifying the atmosphere.
Anson Wood? Designing rchandise?
Another surprise?
Yet upon reflection, it seed natural. After all, Anson's taste in fashion and aesthetics had always been impeccable, with a strong understanding of music and color. Venturing into art and design seed like a logical next step.
While so remained blinded by prejudice, dismissing Anson as a "pretty face," they failed to notice the consistent display of his talents.
The audience, however, had different priorities from Nicholas—
All the designs were from Anson?
One by one, people pulled out their collectibles for closer inspection, falling even more in love with them.
"Anson, why not sell these officially? We want to collect them all!"
A voice called out, echoed by many nodding in agreent.
Anson chuckled. "The joy is in the process of collecting."
"These are just small gifts, nothing serious. I just hope you all enjoy tonight's movie."
"It's not just about the movie or the rchandise—it's about the ti spent with friends, lining up and playing capsule machines over and over."
"If you just paid for them, the collectibles might just be collectibles. If you didn't like the movie, they'd get locked in a drawer, never to be seen again."
"But now, when you see these collectibles, you'll rember spending an entire night with friends, collecting a bookmark, complaining about how bad the movie was, and wanting to throw the 'junk' away but couldn't bear to waste your ti and effort."
"In the end, you kept them, stashing them in a desk drawer, useless but too sentintal to discard. Years later, they'll bring back mories of tonight, giving them aning."
Haha, hahaha.
Laughter echoed all around, filling the air with joy.
(End of Chapter)
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