Helen Hunt had experienced this mont herself before. Whether or not you were excited about the awards ceremony beforehand, the instant the winner is announced, the atmosphere on-site triggers adrenaline, and you can't help but feel nervous, sotis without even realizing that you've held your breath.
So, she didn't pause or build suspense; as soon as she saw the na on the card, she was ready to say it aloud.
However, the na on the card caught her a little off guard. Reflexively, she paused for a mont, instinctively double-checking.
Inadvertently, there was a half-second pause.
But in that half-second, the temple hall seed to slip into a space-ti rift, completely frozen. The sound of heartbeats and breathing filled the air.
Blood surged and burned—
"...Anson Wood, *Friends*."
Helen announced the winner.
The entire hall hit the pause button; everyone was stunned.
Edgar suddenly covered his mouth, using every ounce of strength to suppress the urge to scream, but he couldn't hold back. He quickly turned his head to look at Eve, his wide eyes betraying the torrent of mixed emotions bubbling up inside him:
Anson won?
Anson! Won?
Eve was just as bewildered. She had been brainstorming post-award public relations strategies, but in an instant, the entire plan was thrown off track, leaving her mind spinning.
Wow.
Unable to stop herself, Eve muttered softly.
She glanced at Edgar, her gaze communicating a thousand unspoken words condensed into a single sentint. Eve sighed again, "Wow," before she stood up.
Despite her excitent, Eve didn't forget about work. She gestured to Edgar with her eyes: Stand up, clap, whistle—get the crowd going.
It took a mont for Edgar to process what had happened, but then he jumped up, disbelief and shock written all over his face as he clapped with all his might.
"Yeah!"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah!"
"Anson!"
Edgar didn't hold back his emotions; he was the first to shout.
The applause rippled outward like waves, spreading through the hall. Amid the astonished and surprised glances, the temple hall slowly returned to its senses, finally comprehending what had just happened—
Anson, who was still two months shy of turning eighteen, had won the Emmy Award for Best Guest Actor with his very first acting role, bursting onto the Hollywood scene like a cot.
Surprised? Astonished?
The entire audience turned to look in the sa direction.
Where was Anson?
Anson: ???
If there was anyone more surprised than the rest of the crowd, it was Anson. He truly hadn't expected this. His main purpose in attending the Emmys today was to gain so experience and hopefully increase his exposure for the upcoming casting of *Spider-Man*. That was it. But now he had heard Helen call his na?
Everything felt like a dream.
Then.
Clap, clap, clap.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh.
The applause flooded in from all directions like rolling waves, surrounding Anson completely. That surreal feeling filled his chest, a strange blend of absurdity and happiness dancing at the corners of his mouth.
The gaze of the crowd poured down like a torrential sumr rain, hitting his skin with a slight sting.
But that stinging sensation jolted his consciousness awake, bringing a touch of reality.
Standing up, he left his seat and stepped into the aisle. At this point, the live broadcast cara, after being a beat behind, finally switched to Anson's fra. His slightly disordered steps found their rhythm again, and the lens locked firmly onto him.
Anson walked forward—
Like a dream.
With uneven steps, treading on clouds, unable to touch the ground, that feeling of floating in mid-air persisted until he was on stage.
Anson couldn't recall how he got on stage, but after seeing Helen Hunt, he finally felt grounded again. The Emmy Award in his hand weighed heavily on his stomach, and the turmoil within him cald.
Helen gave Anson a hug.
She didn't say much, just held him in an embrace. The hug lasted a little longer than usual, but it was more sincere and direct than a thousand words could ever be—
"Congratulations," she said.
The embrace loosened, and Anson looked into Helen's eyes, a smile blooming at the corner of his mouth. "Thank you."
Finally.
Standing before the microphone, Anson gazed at the sea of people before him. The dazzling lights were so bright that he could barely see clearly, but the roaring applause and the heat of their gazes felt intensely real.
Tap.
Anson stomped his foot.
Tap tap.
He stomped again.
Amidst the bewildered gazes, Anson approached the microphone, only to find it too low, barely reaching his chest, forcing him to bend down.
"Sorry, I just need to find the ground and confirm that this isn't a dream."
With that self-deprecating remark, he managed to elicit soft laughter from the crowd. Now, seeing his behavior, everything made sense, and the atmosphere lightened up.
But just as Anson was about to continue—
Buzz, buzzzz.
The microphone slowly rose.
Anson paused, leaning back as he watched the microphone ascend at a snail's pace. He spread his hands, a look of helplessness on his face. This little interaction, like a silent film, instantly transported the audience back to the era of Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton, humor naturally flowing out.
Laughter echoed.
Amidst the laughter, the microphone finally reached Anson's chin. Though still not perfectly aligned, at least he didn't have to bend over anymore.
"Sorry, now I'm confused again—was soone interacting with just now?"
With just one line, Anson managed to amplify the laughter that had barely subsided, especially since his expression remained cool and composed, exactly like Buster Keaton, the contrast making the mont even more delightful.
This little mishap finally allowed Anson to calm down.
"This is a surprise."
"It's like appearing on 'Friends' and giving Ross and Rachel a shock with a 'Hey, surprise!' But this ti, it's a surprise for the entire crew. David, surprise."
Brilliant, simply brilliant.
He broke the fourth wall effortlessly, seamlessly connecting the scene with reality. The last line was clearly directed at producer David Crane—
This was an award for the entire "Friends" crew, not just him.
Brilliant!
The seasoned collaborators in the audience imdiately caught the deeper aning in his words, and they couldn't help but admire Anson's handling of the situation, earning him a wave of applause.
Anson knew that a guest star's award often tested not just acting skills, but also the writers' abilities and the chemistry of the cast, with personal charisma coming last—especially in codies. So, he didn't let it get to his head.
"Working with the crew was a joy. I don't want to stand here and thank any one individual because we all know I'll inevitably miss soone and beco the target of bla. But the point is, no one should be forgotten—this is a team, and every single person is an irreplaceable lead."
"So, thank you all for welcoming warmly and allowing to stand here and enjoy a brief mont in the spotlight. I hope you all have a wonderful evening."
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."
The crowd erupted into thunderous applause—
Madness, pure madness.
Led by David Crane, the entire "Friends" crew stood up to applaud. Even Jennifer Aniston joined in, and though Brad Pitt looked sowhat reluctant, he too eventually stood, albeit grudgingly.
Because Anson had just once again spoken on behalf of the entire "Friends" crew—
Everyone is a lead.
Second update.
User Comments
0 comments from readers