Grant didn't expect Anson to suddenly launch an attack on Kristen, nor did he expect Kristen to act so timid and fearful, which imdiately put Anson in a difficult position.
They didn't look like partners at all; they looked more like enemies who wanted to destroy each other. The tension in the air quickly thickened with an undercurrent of hostility.
If Anson continued pressing the issue, it would lead to an irreparable fallout.
If Anson backed down, his dignity would take a serious hit.
He was stuck—moving forward or retreating was equally difficult.
Kristen was using a strategic retreat to put Anson in an impossible position—checkmate!
The atmosphere beca tense.
Everyone exchanged confused glances, unable to follow the sudden turn of events. Even Grant, Kate, and Mark were at a loss, completely unprepared for the dramatic shift in the situation.
Kristen was struggling to suppress her laughter. She was actually considering whether she should fake cry a little and maybe even make her shoulders tremble for dramatic effect, really putting Anson in a tough spot.
"I'm sorry! Really, really sorry!"
Kristen almost threw herself to the ground in her apology.
All eyes, sharp as arrows, were now directed at Anson.
Anson took a deep breath, pretending to be calm as he turned away to rub his eyes, as if wiping away tears. When he turned back, he seed composed, but his slightly red eyes betrayed him.
The brighter his smile and the straighter his posture, the more overwhelming his sense of grievance beca. His expression was tragic and heart-wrenching, filled with unspeakable sorrow beneath his forced smile.
Grant: Wait, is there sothing deeper going on here?
Could it be that Kristen has been bullying Anson all along? After all, Kristen has been a child star with deep industry connections, not soone Anson could easily ss with. Maybe Kristen has been secretly sabotaging Anson, and he's been enduring it in silence?
Wow, this is... wow!
Mark, drop your popcorn.
anwhile, Kristen bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle in apology, all the while inwardly cursing Anson for not responding yet:
My legs are going numb, what should I do?
On the other hand, Anson's "grin and bear it" performance had captured everyone's attention. Without saying a word, he had turned the tables with ease.
Then, taking a deep breath, Anson didn't explain or lighten the mood; instead, he pressed on with even more aggression.
"Apologizing? You shouldn't be apologizing to ."
"I'm just a small-ti actor. What do I know other than following directions? I'm like an unemployed person just waiting around on set. Whether you're here or not doesn't affect . The people you should be apologizing to are the crew mbers—they're the ones working the hardest."
Grant: Huh?
At first, they were worried Anson was being too overbearing. Kristen had already humbled herself, and yet Anson seed relentless. His fierce expression swung the scales once again.
But then, with a 180-degree turn, he completely shifted the conversation, casually throwing the crew under the bus. If Kristen had to bow at a ninety-degree angle to them—
Grant's heart nearly exploded. Is Anson helping them or hurting them? Kristen wasn't even late; how did things escalate to this?
Grant tried to stop Anson, but with Anson still passionately ranting, there was no opening to intervene. Everyone was now staring at each other in growing panic.
But then, another twist!
"You're apologizing to , pointing the finger at , making it look like I'm the bad guy."
"If you're planning to make the scapegoat, fine. It's not the first or second ti, and it probably won't be the last."
"After all, I've already got enough targets on my back; one more won't make a difference."
Suddenly, Anson's tone turned pitiful—he was angry, hurt, and bitter all at once.
Grant was completely stunned: How... is this even possible?
As expected, all Hollywood stars are narcissists. They can twist any situation to focus on themselves. If a sentence doesn't have the word "I," they can't function. Just monts ago, he was championing the crew, and now he's lanting his own struggles.
This...
Grant blinked in disbelief, his mind going blank—
What should they do with this ss?
"I need to step outside and cool off."
Anson suddenly changed course, taking long strides toward the door, about to storm out in anger.
Grant: Wait, wait! Anson, hold on!
But before Grant could say anything, Kristen stood up straight, took a sidestep, and spread her arms to block Anson's path. The tension spiked again.
Oh no!
A fight was about to break out!
Kristen, looking utterly exasperated, glared at Anson with eyes that could kill.
"If you leave like this, what does that make ?"
"You're really going to throw under the bus? I went through all the trouble to prank you, and you can't even play along?"
"I was worried about your position in the crew, trying to help ease the tension, and yet here you are, tossing to the lions. My God, Anson Wood, you're such a bad friend!"
As she spoke, the hostility vanished, and Kristen's suppressed smile broke free. She lifted her right leg and playfully kicked Anson in the shin.
"I hate you!"
Though the words said "hate," her eyes and her grin spoke of warmth, and the natural, familiar intimacy between them instantly dissipated the tension in the room, changing the atmosphere completely.
Grant: Uh...
He was frozen in place.
So was everyone else in the room. They were all watching this unfold, but nobody understood what had just happened. Their brains had all but shut down.
And—
Anson clutched his shin, letting out an exaggerated howl as though his leg had been shattered.
Kristen rolled her eyes, "I kicked your left leg. Why are you holding your right? Anyone can see you've never played soccer; you can't even fake an injury properly."
Anson let go of his right leg and stood up, his smile broadening as he opened his arms and gave Kristen a big, warm hug.
"I did that on purpose, to throw you off. See? At least you haven't lost your sharp instincts—not too shabby."
Kristen returned the hug, her face visible to Grant and the rest of the crew. She made a mock angry face, clenching her fist and giving Anson's back a few hard punches.
Anson played along, letting out dramatic cries of pain.
Kristen finally looked satisfied.
When they let go, Anson clutched his back, wincing, "Hey, you didn't have to go that hard."
Kristen spread her hands, "I can't win a debate with you, can't keep up with your pranks, so I had to at least land a few punches."
User Comments
0 comments from readers