"Cut!"
Filming was over—finally. The shoot in the ice and snow had co to an end, at least for now, but Anson remained motionless.
He still held his upper body straight, relying on his core strength, looking around with a sense of confusion and uncertainty.
A little lost, a little confused, a little sad, and a little heartbroken.
For a brief mont, he genuinely believed Clentine had vanished. He couldn't help but wonder—what if certain cherished mories of people or events in his life were completely erased? How heartbreaking would that be?
It reminded him of the animated film Inside Out and the imaginary friend, Bing Bong.
Bing Bong was just a fignt of a child's imagination, forgotten and tucked away as they grew up. Even though it was never consciously rembered, it was always there, buried deep in mory.
Until one day, it disappeared, lost in the wastelands of forgotten mories.
That day marked the end of childhood innocence and the beginning of adulthood.
That's life.
When we start burying our mories, we also bury parts of ourselves.
Of course, Clentine wasn't Bing Bong. Erasing Clentine didn't mark a new phase of growing up, but it still symbolized a transformation—a painful, struggling tamorphosis. No longer would he easily believe in love, nor rush into it fearlessly, nor naively trust in promises that love would last forever.
So say this is a sign of maturity; others say it's the death of romance and sincerity.
Anson believed in the latter.
The sadness and loss slowly spread through him like a lingering taste on his tongue.
So, Anson forgot about the cold and even himself for a mont, standing still as if the world had been paused.
Suddenly, the door to the villa flew open with a bang, and a figure sprinted out like a gust of wind, running as fast as possible.
But because they were running too fast, leaning forward heavily, their feet couldn't keep up on the snowy ground, and they fell—face-first into the snow.
Gasp!
Everyone around took a sharp breath, and many people inside the villa stood up to get a better look.
Before anyone could react, the person scrambled up, not caring about their clumsiness, grabbed a blanket from the ground, and, stumbling, rushed straight toward Anson.
Just as they were about to reach him, they tripped again, falling flat for a second ti.
Everyone was stunned, unsure whether to laugh or stay silent, not knowing how to react.
"Anson..."
Noah, lying flat on the ground in the shape of a starfish, lifted his head and called out to Anson, his face full of concern, completely ignoring his own embarrassnt.
Anson: Uh...
Any sadness or confusion he'd felt vanished as he stared blankly at Noah, now lying at his feet, unsure how to respond.
"Anson, here's a blanket. Keep warm."
Noah awkwardly held up the blanket, trying not to let it touch the snowy ground—though it was already covered in snow.
Anson didn't respond, but Noah didn't mind. He got up, dusted off the snow, and opened the blanket, gesturing for Anson to stand so he could help wrap him up.
Finally, Anson ca back to reality. He looked at Noah, who was as earnest as a golden retriever, and smiled. "Give the blanket to Kate instead. Don't worry about ."
Noah, however, was unfazed. He pulled out another blanket from behind the first one. "I ca prepared."
There was more!
Then, Noah tossed the first blanket toward Anson and hurried off to wrap the second around Kate—
Splat.
The blanket landed right on Anson's face, plunging his world into darkness.
Anson: ...
The next second, the sound of uncontrollable laughter erupted nearby. Even though he couldn't see, Anson knew it was probably the caraman, laughing so hard he was nearly falling over.
Kate chid in, "Haha, Noah, you—haha—you might want to check on Anson, hahahaha."
Noah, panicked, "Oh, God, Anson!"
Anson pulled the blanket off his face, glancing at the frantic Noah. He couldn't help but laugh. "It's fine, don't worry about . But, Noah, I could use a hot cocoa."
Noah, with his hands behind his back, scratched his head sheepishly, then quickly turned and dashed back toward the villa.
A mont later, Anson realized sothing. "Wait, what did the director say—"
But Noah was already gone, leaving Anson's words hanging in the air.
Kate, looking at Anson with the blanket draped over him like a makeshift cloak, burst into laughter again. "Hahaha, you look like a rmaid with that blanket!"
Anson didn't mind. He stood up, dusted the snow off, and turned to the caraman. "So, what did the director say?"
"Perfect."
It wasn't the caraman who answered, but Michelle, stepping out from behind the door.
"Everything was perfect."
"Co on, you two, get inside before you catch a cold."
Anson didn't rush. He turned and offered a hand to Kate, and together, they walked toward the villa.
Pushing the door open, a blast of warm air hit them, thawing their frozen skin. The heat seeped into their pores, and the cold prickled like pins and needles, sending shivers up their spines.
It was only then that Anson realized he was sweating.
Even in the snow, the exertion had made him sweat. But his fingertips and toes were still stiff, numb from the cold, and as the muscles in his back relaxed, the chill spread further.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Applause echoed around them.
People crowded forward, wrapping Anson and Kate in blankets, clapping and whistling as they did. The atmosphere was lively and full of cheer.
Michelle noticed the surprise on Anson and Kate's faces and shrugged, giving them a "told you so" look.
Never underestimate the difficulty of shooting a scene like that. The weather was bad, and the wind and rain made everything ten tis harder. But after so adjustnts, they had nailed it.
Everything was perfect, and Michelle was filled with pride and happiness.
Anson looked around, then at Kate.
"It seems the hardship isn't over. They're just buttering us up for more," he joked.
He hopped lightly in place—
Squelch. Squelch.
The sound of water squishing underfoot was unmistakable.
Anson suddenly rembered he'd jumped into the sea earlier. His legs were soaked up to the knees, and they were probably numb by now. Neither the blanket nor the hot cocoa could help much at the mont.
But instead of complaining, he made light of the situation, joking about the life of an actor.
His humor was spot-on.
Everyone roared with laughter, filling the room with warmth and joy.
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