"...Ladies and gentlen, passengers on the flight from Amsterdam to New York..."
The airport announcent jolted Karl Rivett out of his deep thoughts. He hurriedly packed up his laptop, preparing to board the flight, though his mind was still elsewhere—
He had been writing a film review on Pirates of the Caribbean.
Yet, instead of focusing on Pirates of the Caribbean, his mind wandered off to images of works by British director Peter Greenaway. The re thought of those visuals made him marvel.
Indeed, films are vastly different from one another.
At the recently concluded Karlovy Vary International Film Festival, they held a retrospective for this director, renowned for his bold and adventurous visual style and his daring approach to organizing film sequences.
Compared to Cannes, an A-list international festival, the Karlovy Vary Film Festival in the Czech Republic is a B-list event, less prestigious in many ways. But Karl loved this year's Peter Greenaway retrospective.
The retrospective opened a new door for Karl, allowing him to discover a director he had only heard of but never really explored. His experience at Karlovy Vary was just as rewarding as at Cannes, reigniting his passion for cinema. The journey was well worth it.
However, as a new-generation film blogger, a form of self-dia that was just erging in the online world, Karl faced obvious disadvantages compared to traditional dia. So, he couldn't afford to be picky—if a festival invited him and covered his travel expenses, he would show up, doing his best to work with organizers and secure more opportunities.
Whether Cannes or Karlovy Vary, both were rare opportunities for Karl.
After wrapping up at Karlovy Vary, Karl was heading to North Arica—
First to Washington, where a docuntary film festival was being held. Then to Nantucket in Massachusetts for a festival focused on screenwriting and storytelling. After that, he would head to Seattle for the longest-running film festival in North Arica, lasting a full three weeks.
Lastly, depending on timing, he would either try to catch the Los Angeles International Film Festival or head to Montreal for a festival that specialized in fantasy, horror, and science fiction films.
His schedule was packed.
But that wasn't all—
While these festivals focused on art films, independent cinema, classic restorations, and niche genres, Karl also had to keep an eye on comrcial films, especially during the sumr blockbuster season.
After all, "Pirates of the Caribbean" was a must-watch.
Sowhat surprisingly, Johnny Depp's dark, eccentric, and sinister portrayal brought a unique charm to the movie, transforming what would have been an ordinary pirate film into sothing fresh and captivating.
Karl had a hunch that this sumr season might stand out thanks to the sudden ergence of Pirates of the Caribbean.
Suddenly, a bold thought crossed his mind: what if Anson played in Pirates of the Caribbean?
Not Orlando Bloom's role, but Johnny Depp's. Although Anson was still too young, and if he were cast, it would likely be in Bloom's more decorative role rather than Depp's, Karl couldn't help but let his imagination run wild.
He always felt that Anson's rebellious, defiant aura was so complex that it had a lot of untapped potential.
As he boarded the plane, stored his luggage, and took his seat, Karl was about to open his laptop and resu working when he realized, two beats late, that the Washington film festival had actually booked him a business class seat—
For a long-haul flight across the Atlantic, he could finally get so proper sleep.
Despite that, Karl couldn't help but marvel. Of course, it was the Motion Picture Association of Arica hosting the festival—money wasn't an issue, and they were spending lavishly.
Having grown accustod to the cramped economy class, Karl felt like a country bumpkin wandering into a luxurious palace, curiously inspecting everything around him. He even excitedly ordered a glass of champagne.
Who would have thought business class ca with a welco drink?
Had it not been for the work he needed to do, he might have already started downing alcohol.
Indeed, business class was on a different level—there was the welco drink, seats that reclined into a bed, plenty of legroom, a custom nu, a more sophisticated in-flight entertainnt system, and... a long-haul flight with Anson Wood.
Wait.
Karl froze, the smile frozen on his face. He blinked a few tis: wait, Anson Wood?
What did he just see?
Was it a trick of the eye?
Karl slowly turned his head to the left, as if mimicking the possessed girl in The Exorcist with her 360-degree head rotation.
That man... could it be...?
Wearing a dark gray hoodie, the man had pulled the hood over his head, covering most of his face. But there was just enough light from the window outside to outline his sharp nose and cast a small shadow.
Low-key, reserved, but with an unmistakable radiance.
Karl's brain completely shut down. He stared dumbly at the man, forgetting to breathe, forgetting to blink, even forgetting his own existence.
How did this happen?
Was this his imagination? Like a child's imaginary friend? He had just been daydreaming about Anson playing the pirate captain in Pirates of the Caribbean, and now his fantasy had sohow materialized, with Anson sitting right next to him?
Was that even possible?
Karl held his breath, suddenly realizing that his gaze was too intense—practically that of a creep. This wasn't good.
He quickly averted his eyes, scanning the cabin—
No manager, no assistant, no bodyguard, no entourage. Just Anson, sitting alone.
Could this really be happening?
Karl couldn't control his doubts, his mind spiraling into a loop of uncertainty.
And yet, his gaze returned to Anson's profile once more.
This ti, worried that his stare was too obvious, Karl tried to sneak glances from the corner of his eye.
Could it just be soone who looked like Anson?
No, who else could look like Anson!
The more he looked, the more convinced he beca that it really was him. Karl was sure of it. Excitent surged through him, nearly choking him with its intensity.
What should he do? What should he do, what should he do, what should he do? It really seed to be Anson!
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