Anson is back—
"So soon?"
Lily's first reaction didn't exactly seem welcoming.
Of course, that wasn't really the case.
Just the day before, Connor and the others were worried that since Anson left for the film shoot without leaving a clear schedule, he might be gone for two or three months, or even longer. After all, none of them had ever made a movie before and were clueless about the production tiline.
So, did that an their brief break might be indefinitely extended?
Waiting is like this: if you have a set deadline, it's hard, but at least you can endure it because you see the finish line. But if there's no deadline, the wait can beco terrifying.
Like waiting for Godot.
However, the very next day, Anson returned, catching Lily and the others completely off guard—they didn't know how to react.
Five days? Ten days?
"…Can we rest a little longer?" Connor asked, feeling that their vacation ended before they could really relax.
This was both funny and exasperating.
Plus, they had assud that after finishing the movie, Anson would need so ti to rest and adjust, delaying the recording sessions further.
But that wasn't the case.
As soon as he got back, Anson shared an amazing new idea. From the set to the studio, from Portland to Los Angeles, everything seamlessly flowed together.
"Sumr."
"The entire concept of the album is about one sumr."
"Youth, growth, dreams, being eighteen, that sumr where everything burns and runs wild."
Not just Anson, but Lily, Connor, and Miles were instantly captivated by the new album the, their mories flashing back to the sumrs of the past few years.
That's who they were—
They always ran fiercely and defiantly, alone and crazily, even when everyone said "this road leads nowhere," even when dreams kept crashing into reality, even when they started doubting themselves in the dead of night, their sumr kept burning.
Maybe they were bruised and battered, maybe exhausted, maybe more bitter than happy, but they still didn't regret it. They still missed those sumrs:
Like fools.
Their youth and growth were all unleashed in those sumrs without holding anything back.
This is not only the soul of the album but also the soul of the band.
In an instant, the entire concept and idea beca vivid and three-dinsional.
And that still wasn't everything.
"The album… starts with 'Wake Up,' that's early sumr; peaks with 'Viva La Vida,' that's midsumr; and ends with 'Wake Up When September Ends,' that's late sumr."
Even the album tracklist was now clear, and the whole concept erged fully ford.
Lily and Connor were lost in the impact of it all, while Miles noticed the details and asked Anson if the last song was a new inspiration.
Anson shared the fragnts of inspiration he had captured in Portland.
Miles suggested a supplentary idea: if the concept of sumr is too straightforward and gets repeated over and over, it might not only seem obvious and simple but also shallow and boring, detracting from the depth of the idea.
"Maybe if we integrate the concept of sumr into the arrangent, letting the audience feel the curve of youth and growth from early sumr, to midsumr, to late sumr, it would be great."
Anson agreed with this.
So, "Wake Up When September Ends" replaced "Wake Up When Sumr Ends," with the album concept seamlessly woven throughout.
One idea sparked a chain of ideas.
Lily excitedly rubbed her hands together, eager to dive in, "Sumr, sumr, sumr—how about we na our band 'Sumr'? Sumr never ends."
Connor enthusiastically raised both hands in agreent and added his own twist, "What about 'Thirty Seconds to Sumr'? Our band na could be 'Thirty Seconds to Sumr.'"
As he spoke, Connor stood up, mumbling under his breath.
"How do the Backstreet Boys introduce themselves again?"
"Hello, everyone, we are Thirty Seconds to Sumr!"
Connor raised his right hand, stretched it out, turned his palm up with a little flourish, and even winked at the front.
Anson nearly burst out laughing and barely managed to control himself, "That's not Backstreet Boys, it's the Spice Girls!"
Miles couldn't hold back either and laughed out loud.
Lily fell off her chair, laughing, "Connor, where are you looking? Are you okay? Did your eyes cramp? Oh, thank God you're not wearing lipstick."
Despite all the laughter, Anson indeed sparked so fresh ideas.
"How about 'August 31st' as the na?"
After the laughter subsided, everyone's eyes turned back to Anson.
Lily asked, "Does that day have any special aning?"
Anson spread his hands, "No special aning. It's just the last day of August. That's all."
"August 31st," the last day of August, marking the end of sumr vacation and the beginning of a new school year, is also the tail end of sumr. They grasped at the final glimr of youth, seizing one last chance to run wildly for their dreams.
No special aning, because Anson didn't want to give it any. Just as sumr, dreams, and youth hold different shapes in everyone's life, the band na leaves space for interpretation; but for every listener, it will naturally hold special significance.
Miles: "I vote yes."
Connor: "No objections here."
Lily: "Surprisingly, I like it."
So, the decision was unanimous—
The band had a na.
The album had a concept.
The tracklist was set.
And the overarching arrangent and creative core were in place.
So, they returned to the studio—
The entire creation and recording process began flowing smoothly again, with endless bursts of inspiration.
However…
Sotis, too much inspiration isn't a good thing because it ans different ideas clashing, different perspectives trying to find a point of convergence. Sotis, it's exciting, and sotis, it's not.
Today, just as he pushed open the studio door, the tense atmosphere hit Anson right in the face.
Dustin Thorn, the music producer who had personally persuaded Anson to sign with Warner Records, was also the producer of August 31st's album.
As promised, Dustin hoped to maintain the band's original style as much as possible, which was the whole reason they signed the band. But in practice, there were still many disagreents between Dustin and the band mbers on a professional level—
No personal feelings involved, just a pure discussion of professional opinions.
Especially Miles.
Which was unexpected.
Usually, the easygoing and polite Miles, with his classical music background and professional knowledge that rivaled Dustin's, brought a distinct style that clashed with Dustin's, often leading to sparks flying between them.
Sure enough, the day's recording session began with the two of them at odds.
Anson paused.
Holding his coffee, he stood at the door, looking all innocent. He'd been worried that he'd overslept and was late to the recording session, but now it seed being late wasn't such a big deal. Avoiding getting caught in the crossfire was the top priority.
On the sofa by the door, a chubby young man, around twenty-sothing, sat upright, stiffening his back because of the argunt in front of him, looking utterly lost and a bit pitiful:
He seed to want to escape but missed the chance to do so.
His eyes were full of innocence.
Just then, Anson and the chubby guy noticed each other, and they exchanged a look.
Anson was taken aback, "They're not fighting."
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