A single guitar, a high stool, and a dim spotlight—that's all there was.
No one in the café noticed the change. As Hannah had ntioned, no one pays attention to the background music in a café unless it's a special performance; otherwise, it just fades into the background.
Maybe Annie and Hannah were exceptions.
Kristen also noticed sothing unusual. Following Annie's gaze, she spotted Anson, her confusion nearly overflowing—
What was going on?
Kristen turned to look at Annie, who tried to maintain an innocent, clueless expression. Then she leaned toward Jack and whispered.
It wasn't until that mont that Jack noticed Anson.
Jack: ???
Jack swore that he and Anson were only casual friends, chatting occasionally, and he didn't know much about him. This was the first ti he learned that Anson could play guitar, but on second thought, it wasn't surprising at all.
Jack looked at Annie.
Annie continued to wear an innocent expression.
In that brief exchange of glances, Anson was already prepared.
His fingers lightly strumd the strings, the playful mood set aside as he tuned the guitar with focus. Clear, bright notes trickled out, a bit scattered, creating a slight noise that caught the attention of a few custors.
Unexpected, but not really surprising. After all, changing the perforr didn't change the fact that it was still a performance. But there was sothing about Anson sitting quietly on the high stool, emanating a calm and focused charm that drew people's eyes to him.
The café was still filled with the soft murmur of conversations, neither noisy nor loud, just a hum that gently vibrated in the night air.
So were laughing, so debating, others engaging in close physical contact, while so sat by the window, quietly observing the bustling world outside, with its endless stream of cars…
In this small world, countless smaller worlds existed.
Unrelated to each other, yet peacefully coexisting in the sa space.
In the crisscrossing of sounds, silhouettes, and light, it seed as though different dinsions were colliding, with completely different stories unfolding in parallel universes.
Then.
The clear sound of guitar strings resonated, with no other instrunts or vocals, just the simple lody of an acoustic guitar. The uncomplicated chords flowed through the night like a babbling brook, dancing with a delicate rhythm.
Light, graceful, and fresh.
Like the first days of spring in March, when the snow lts and the earth cos alive again. The water flows over the newly sprouted green, icy streams seeping from between moss and stones. The crisp air gradually warms under the golden sunlight, making you want to dance along with the lody.
Amid the vibrant strumming of the guitar, a crisp drumbeat occasionally cuts through.
A drumbeat?
Wasn't there only one person?
Looking closer, it was clear there was indeed only one person on stage. Anson's slender fingers danced between the strings, occasionally using the heel of his palm or the edge of his hand to tap the guitar's body, creating different textures and colors of drum sounds. The layers of the performance instantly beca richer.
And so, eyes lingered—
Is this... folk music?
Unlike the dreamy, indulgent jazz from before, the fresh and natural sound of folk music carries no sharp edges. If you're not paying attention, it might just fade into the background. But the performance before them was different; within the simple chords, Anson displayed a dazzling array of techniques. The lody fluttered like spring rain, lightly playing on the eardrums.
There were no lyrics, no singing, yet everyone's gaze was drawn to the stage.
And then, you could see that face.
Handso, refined, and carefree.
Just by sitting there casually, he captured everyone's attention. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, like sunlight breaking through thick clouds, warm but not scorching, gentle yet not overwhelming. The tension in the room eased imdiately.
Before realizing it, the corners of their own mouths had already lifted into a soft smile.
Not only did the other audience mbers notice, but Hannah also looked at Annie with a face full of surprise.
But this ti, Annie was genuinely innocent; she had no idea what Anson was up to.
The only thing she could be sure of was that this Anson was slightly different from the one they knew. He was a bit more reserved, a bit quieter, but still radiating a certain glow.
Annie couldn't look away, quietly, just quietly, becoming entranced.
Hannah didn't get an answer, but she didn't have the ti or energy to pursue it further. She quickly turned her head toward the stage, afraid of missing any part of the performance.
Kristen and Jack were no exception, their curiosity piqued as they both turned their eyes toward Anson.
Anson wasn't in a hurry. He remained steady and calm, playing the lody with his fingertips. His goal wasn't to attract attention or win applause; he was simply creating an atmosphere for his two friends, so there was no need to rush.
The notes lingered in the café, neither overwhelming nor dazzling. Anson seed to be playing with the music, letting his imagination run wild, all for the sake of setting the mood.
So, Anson kept the lody simple, even adding a hint of childlike mischief, hiding his playful teasing within the notes.
He looked up and noticed the gazes of Jack and Kristen. A smile crept onto his face, and after playing a few more bars, he finally got to the main part.
Dun dun dun dun, dun dun dun dun.
The notes danced under his fingers, and Anson's voice finally ca through the microphone.
"I admit you've captured , and you know it too well."
"I tried to stay cool, but your heat lted ."
"I can feel the stirrings, and now I'm trying to hit the brakes."
A bit mischievous, a bit childish, and very fresh—the lyrics were just as simple as the lody, a little ditty, even sowhat basic. But Anson's singing, laced with a soft smile, filled the words with happiness and excitent, making the sweetness overflow.
Jack felt his heartstrings gently plucked.
He didn't even have ti to fully comprehend Anson's lyrics. Almost instinctively, he glanced at Kristen, quickly looked away, but couldn't resist glancing back. His heartbeat, not too fast, suddenly skipped a beat.
The air turned green and pink.
There was no need for shouts or yells; the eyes in the café gradually converged on the stage. The cheerful rhythm and the refined vibe were captivating, silently transforming the entire atmosphere.
"Before my cool façade completely crumbles, I'm trying to show my best side. Nothing short of divine intervention can stop now."
Haha.
A light laugh spread, the tender stirrings of budding emotions quietly floating in the air. The whole world seed infused with the scent of love.
"I guess this is a chance, to either gain love or learn a lesson. But I won't hesitate, no, no, no."
Anson lifted his gaze, looking at the crowd, his eyes landing lightly like a butterfly on Jack and Kristen's shoulders, softly singing.
"I can't wait any longer, I'm yours."
Gentle, graceful—the whole world seed to spin. Such a simple, straightforward, and childlike phrase, yet it made every parallel universe in the café collectively surrender, falling into a fatal romance.
Falling, gently falling.
*Note 1: "I'm Yours" by Jason Mraz*
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