In the practice room, they were doing pretty well.
After all, they had spent five days practicing just one song, and since it was a pop-punk track with simple chords, they had grown more familiar with it through repetition, developing a certain level of chemistry.
If they had to perform any other song right now, it would undoubtedly be a disaster of epic proportions. But performing Anson's original piece? While it might not be perfect, they could definitely score an 80 out of 100.
And Anson was right—
Even if they made mistakes, no one would know, right?
As Daniel Erickson, the bassist, nervously stuffed handfuls of Skittles that Anson had brought into his mouth to calm his nerves, he turned to his bandmates with a smile that was more awkward than comforting, letting out a couple of dry chuckles.
"Guys, all the pressure is on Anson. No one really cares how we perform. I bet half the crew doesn't even know our nas, so what are we so nervous about?"
Ned seriously considered this, then replied, "So, even if we embarrass ourselves, it's on Anson, right?"
All eyes turned to Anson.
Anson shrugged lightly. "Yeah…"
That long, drawn-out response was full of resignation, but he accepted it without any fuss.
"Haha." Daniel couldn't help but laugh, and even the most nervous mber, Tom, joined in, looking around at his bandmates before breaking into a brighter, happier smile.
When they started practicing again, things noticeably improved. Even when they made mistakes, the atmosphere was no longer as tense and oppressive—there was even laughter.
Anne Hathaway walked into the garage, imdiately hearing the dissonant notes. The lody was so off-key that many of the crew mbers covered their ears, and even Anne was startled, a hint of concern showing on her face.
After a mont of hesitation, Anne approached Anson, who was in front of the keyboard.
Originally, Anson had planned to return to the guitar, but after so thought, he decided to stick with the keyboard since that's what Michael plays in the movie.
"Good morning, Anne."
"Hey, Anson."
After a brief greeting, Anne seed a bit uneasy, unsure of what to say. When she noticed Anson looking at her curiously, she didn't hesitate any longer. Clenching her right fist, she offered him so encouragent.
"You've got this. There's no need to pay attention to those voices. You should know, they're just jealous. And jealousy is just an admission of their own inadequacy."
Anson was a little confused at first, but then he understood. It seed that the rumors and gossip within the crew had reached Anne's ears as well.
Anson didn't mind, but it was clear that his true friends were worried about him. This realization made him smile genuinely, feeling a warmth in his heart.
"Anne, I don't mind. People always say that when soone is jealous of you, it ans you've succeeded. I just didn't expect success to co so quickly, so why should I care?"
After speaking, Anson spread his arms, wearing a smug expression that seed to say, "I'm just that good, and there's nothing you can do about it except be jealous." It was a face that was practically begging for a punch.
Anne couldn't help but burst into laughter, her brows relaxing as she bead brightly. Even with her frizzy hair, she still managed to capture everyone's attention. "Well, I'll be watching with great interest."
She pointed to her head, "I've still got the final step to finish. See you in a bit."
Anne's hairstyle had been a point of contention.
As ntioned earlier, Gary Marshall's granddaughters had chosen Anne for the role of Mia partly because of her smooth, silky hair, which was different from the character's original look in the movie.
Initially, the crew considered using a wig to give Anne the frizzy hair required for the role, but the result was underwhelming, giving off a cartoonish vibe that felt a bit ridiculous.
Anne herself suggested perming her hair, using waves to create the necessary volu. It wasn't a permanent solution; instead, it required daily styling. But clearly, it was a complex and tedious process.
Every night, Anne had to spend three hours using a hot plate to curl her hair, and then she would co to the set the next day for a second round of styling by the hairdresser.
It was such a hassle that it caused Anne a series of problems when bathing and sleeping, but after two weeks, she had gradually gotten used to it.
In the blink of an eye, the crew was ready, and Gary was already in position.
"Anson?"
Gary raised his voice, his tone brimming with playful interest, as if he were watching his grandkids play together during a weekend getaway.
"Director, I have so ideas about the song arrangent and how it fits into the scene. Do you have a mont?" Anson stood up, his posture relaxed but his tone earnest.
Gary clasped his hands behind his back and chuckled, glancing around the room. "Oh, this kid wants to try out the director's chair, huh?"
It was clear from Gary's expression—his brows raised in amusent and a smile playing at the corners of his eyes—that this was all in good fun.
Laughter rippled through the crew, and Gary turned back to Anson, nodding slightly, "Alright, let's hear it."
Anson didn't consider himself a professional director. However, in his previous life, he had worked on various sets in different capacities, which allowed him to understand the intricacies of a film set from multiple perspectives. This experience made him more attuned to the chanics of film production.
Even though he wasn't directing, Anson enjoyed observing the professionals at work on the "The Princess Diaries" set, not because he aspired to direct, but to better understand the actor's craft.
Anson's suggestions were primarily based on the structure of the song and the relationship dynamics between the characters, intended to provide a stronger foundation for the actors' performances.
Gary, true to his word, listened attentively to Anson's analysis of the song's composition, a hint of surprise crossing his face. "Oh, did you compose this song specifically for this scene?"
Anson nodded.
Gary smiled broadly. "Well then, let's shoot it your way. I'm eager to see how it turns out."
And so, the filming began—
According to Anson's plan, the band would perform the first verse of the song, transitioning to the chorus as Mia made her entrance. However, Mia wouldn't notice the band right away; instead, the other girls would be captivated by the music.
As the band moved into the second verse, Mia would start to notice the girls' excitent, and for the first ti, she'd realize that Michael wasn't just her friend's little brother. The second chorus would then beco the focal point of the entire scene.
Everything fit together seamlessly.
Gary was ready to give Anson's approach a try, at least to see how it played out.
When the call for "action" ca, the crew didn't spring into motion imdiately. Instead, they waited quietly, their attention focused entirely on the band's performance.
Anson exchanged glances with his bandmates:
Daniel. Ned. Tom.
One by one, they connected, making brief but aningful eye contact.
Then, a smile spread across Anson's face—
"Hey!"
His shout rang out like a bolt of lightning, and the smiles on the other band mbers' faces mirrored his. The energy was infectious, and any lingering nerves or anxieties were swept away as they imrsed themselves in the mont.
They felt the rhythm, captured the energy, and reveled in the experience of performing.
It was a pure and intense happiness, gripping the spotlight that was theirs, as every cell in their bodies buzzed with the heat in the air.
Jealousy? Criticism? It didn't matter.
Anticipation? Disinterest? None of that mattered either.
In that mont, everyone else was just an audience mber who had to sit back and enjoy the show. The ones on stage were the true stars.
Thump-thump, thump-thump—
The keyboard burst into life!
From the very first note, it was electric.
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