Wait a minute, is sothing not quite right here?
Things seem to be going off track; and not just a little, but completely off track.
When dia reporters circled around the back of Luxembourg Gardens and sneaked into the performance stage area, they were stunned to find a familiar face among the band mbers—
Anson?
It was Anson?
The very person whom the entire North Arican continent was turning upside down to find had sohow quietly appeared on the European continent and was stirring up a commotion in Paris?
And they knew nothing about it?
A herd of alpacas was galloping wildly through their minds.
All the major French dia outlets were in an uproar; there was just too much explosive content to handle. They were so exhilarated that they didn't know where to begin.
Then, the Paris police arrived, seemingly prepared to "invite" the band to the station for questioning. The scene instantly beca tense.
Everyone looked at each other—
Wasn't it just a street performance? How did it co to the point of being arrested by the police?
Just imagine, if Anson got arrested by the Paris police, and the dia captured him in a disheveled and embarrassing state, it would undoubtedly blow up the internet. Even the re thought of it was enough to spark excitent.
The band mbers were completely bewildered.
It seed like the story was about to take a different turn and potentially turn into a cri story, but it was Anson who stepped forward to take control of the situation.
It's unclear how Anson communicated with the police, but he returned to the microphone and candidly talked about the risks to traffic managent and public order. Although the band "August 31st" greatly appreciated the audience's support, they had to agree to et again next ti at an official concert or music festival setting, looking forward to having a proper good ti.
Then, the band perford one last song, "Wake Up When September Ends." Amid the gentle and soothing lody, Anson loudly called for crowd control, slowly sending off the audience in batches.
The most magical scene occurred—
The audience followed Anson's instructions to the letter, starting from the outermost edges of the crowd, reluctantly leaving in twos and threes. Those in front even turned around to say goodbye to those behind them.
Bertrand was amazed, his shock and surprise were written all over his face.
However, compared to other traffic cops, Bertrand, who was the first to arrive at the scene, was ntally prepared and quickly accepted what was happening. He stepped forward imdiately to help maintain order and disperse the crowd.
One batch, then another.
Although it took so ti, the bustling and crowded street gradually revealed its original appearance as order slowly returned.
In the end, there was just a small circle of audience left, who didn't seem in a hurry to leave. Camilla, Pauline, and the others glared at the Paris police.
Those police officers were equally dumbfounded, their faces full of confusion. They looked at each other, but no one could find an answer. They were unsure how to respond, their heads filled with questions awaiting answers.
Originally, they intended to take the band to the station for questioning on charges of disturbing public order. However, the chaotic situation at hand had been resolved effortlessly, so who was really disturbing the public order here?
So, now what?
Of course, if the Paris police insisted, they could still demand that the band mbers go to the station. But the situation now was particularly tricky, with an audience, dia, and live broadcast—all recording the entire event. Under the public eye, their every move would be subject to public scrutiny.
In the end, the Paris police decided to let it go—
Better to have one less problem than one more.
After all, there was no real issue with the street performance. In fact, Anson helped control the situation and prevented chaos.
Amid the cheers of Camilla and Pauline, the police turned around and left.
Then, the rest of the audience also left, satisfied, one by one, walking away with light steps, even cheering with joy.
Bertrand was about to leave but couldn't help but glance back at the band.
As the noise died down and calm returned, the news dia were still far from settling down. They aid their caras at the band, snapping pictures, while the reporters circled Anson like hyenas, refusing to leave.
Strangely, Anson remained unaffected.
No irritation, no anger, no resistance; of course, he didn't accept any interviews either. Despite the reporters throwing questions at him persistently, Anson didn't respond. He simply packed up instrunts with his bandmates, talking freely and joyfully about the performance's gains and achievents.
This scene caused Bertrand to fall into deep thought.
After thinking for a mont, Bertrand couldn't resist. He parked his motorcycle, approached them, and tentatively called out.
"Excuse … where can I buy the band's album?"
Anson looked up. "Sorry, we've given away all the albums we had with us today. If you're interested, you can check out the record stores. I believe you should be able to find them there."
"August 31st band, 'Midnight in Sumr'!"
His smile was bright, no different from any other indie band, eagerly promoting the band and album, shining with all their heart.
Click.
Bertrand noticed a reporter next to him press the shutter to capture the mont—
Turning an instant into eternity.
Bertrand couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion and smiled in return. "Thank you, I'll go and check it out."
The crowd gradually dispersed. As Bertrand mounted his motorcycle, he was genuinely contemplating:
After work, he should head to the record store to see if he could find it.
Evidently, Bertrand wasn't the only one.
Over there, Camilla and Pauline had already arrived at the record store.
"…Even if you had told beforehand, I still wouldn't have been able to imagine it. Wow, I an, wow!"
"Right? Right? Right? I told you, they're different."
"Different, really different. I've really taken a liking to Miles. It's unbelievable that they actually incorporated a cello into the band and even used it as the main instrunt. Ah, I want to scream."
"I like them too. I like Lily, I like Connor, but my favorite is still Anson."
"Okay, I admit it, no one can resist Anson."
Chattering away, they couldn't help but scream out loud. Realizing they might disturb others, they quickly shut their mouths, exchanged glances, and giggled, seeing the excitent and joy in each other's eyes.
Not just Camilla, Pauline felt the sa.
Thinking back to the entire afternoon, it still felt like a dream—
From arriving at Luxembourg Gardens to the street performance to the miraculous ending, everything was filled with a sense of wonder.
Who could have imagined that a street performance could attract the police, the perforrs almost getting detained, but then, because of their quick thinking and calm handling, they managed to avert the crisis?
If Pauline hadn't experienced it herself, she would have scoffed at such a story if soone else had told her. It would have sounded too far-fetched, like a fairy tale.
But sohow, all of this happened.
Like a dream.
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