Actor in Hollywood

Clap, clap, clap...

Thunderous applause.

Without thinking, Steven started clapping forcefully too. In that moment, it felt as if he had completely become a part of this fashion show. The burning sensation in his stomach finally settled, and he truly immersed himself in the experience, even though deep down he knew it was all an illusion.

Quietly, Steven leaned towards Tom and whispered, "Let's do this."

Tom was puzzled. Amidst the roaring applause, he thought he hadn't heard correctly and looked at Steven, questioning with his eyes.

Steven responded, "I'm ready. Are you?"

After speaking, Steven silently turned his gaze towards the runway. Tom followed his line of sight and immediately spotted Anson. Although there were other models around, Anson effortlessly drew all the attention.

Tom got the message.

A smile crept up on his lips as a mix of uncontrollable anticipation, excitement, and nervousness began to burn in his stomach.

Tom knew what this meant—a brand-new challenge, a fresh adventure. Working with Leonardo was predictable; the outcomes and scenarios were largely foreseeable. But with Anson? Everything in front of them was unknown, and the tone and style of the entire project could be completely transformed.

Tom admitted he had nudged things in this direction out of curiosity—

He was curious about Anson's version of young Frank Abagnale and also intrigued by Anson's potential as an actor.

Like Steven, Tom had quietly settled into his comfort zone in casting actors. It had been so long since he felt a sense of novelty, freshness, or nervousness. Perhaps Anson, as a co-actor, could introduce some... variables?

Now, everything was going according to plan. On one hand, Tom was slightly anxious—what if his judgment was wrong? Nervousness and unease were inevitable. But on the other hand, he was filled with anticipation; he could hardly wait to start filming.

For an actor, this was a good thing.

Then.

Tom joined in the applause, and his gaze towards Anson subtly changed. Even his smile and applause seemed noticeably more joyous.

Meanwhile, the applause in the room continued to rise, reaching a new peak.

Eddie Slimane, a bit shy and awkward, was surrounded by the applause as if engulfed by a tidal wave, with everyone lifting him to the pinnacle. Yet, he felt uncomfortable, as if every cell in his body was uneasy, wanting to leave the stage the moment he stepped onto it.

It was only his remaining sense of reason that barely reined him in. He stiffly looked around and nodded in acknowledgment, his eyes nervously flitting over the crowd like Pinocchio, who had just gained life and didn't quite know how to control his body yet—

He wanted to leave but reminded himself that this was Dior Men's first appearance. Regardless of what the future held, he should at least show some respect this time and hope that these big names and peers would recognize his debut.

However.

"Run!"

The urge to flee echoed in his mind, and he finally turned to leave, convincing himself that he had fulfilled his basic obligations and didn't need to stay any longer. But as he turned, he caught sight of Anson standing slightly behind him.

Ah, how could he have forgotten?

Anson, Anson Wood. Without Anson, there wouldn't be this collection. Without Anson, there wouldn't be today's show. More importantly, Anson had agreed to come to Paris to support him. Eddie knew that Anson didn't have to say yes—he knew that actors didn't like being seen as models—but Anson had nodded anyway.

Clumsily, Eddie shot a glance at Anson to signal him.

Anson didn't immediately understand Eddie's intention and simply returned the look with a smile, clapping vigorously, cheering for Eddie just like the rest of the audience.

Eddie awkwardly scratched his head, turned back to the front, but then looked at Anson again, raising his hand to wave him forward.

Anson was unsure: Him? Why?

At this moment, it was clear that Eddie was the true star of the show. The models, including Anson, were merely there to showcase the clothes. All the applause should rightfully belong to Eddie, so why was Eddie signaling Anson to join him?

Eddie gave Anson another confirming look.

Anson was confused. This wasn't part of the rehearsal.

But, despite his uncertainty, Anson stepped forward. As he did, the entire venue erupted with whispers and glances, all suddenly buzzing with excitement.

When Anson reached Eddie's side, Eddie made an inviting gesture, and the two of them walked side by side back to the top of the runway.

Clap, clap, clap.

The applause roared to a new height, almost uncontrollable, releasing an unbelievable amount of energy that seemed like it could tear the tent apart.

Vast and overwhelming—

Maybe some people recognized Anson, but it wasn't the majority. As an actor, Anson's career had only just begun. However, after today, Anson had opened a new chapter in the fashion world, undoubtedly becoming the defining star of Dior Men's collection.

People cheered for Eddie but were captivated by Anson.

It was that simple.

Boom.

The heatwave of applause exploded.

Anson: ???

His confusion only deepened as the applause and whistles mingled with the audience's apparent madness.

Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing? Could someone explain what's going on?

Clearly, all the credit should go to Eddie, yet the audience seemed to be going wild, clapping and whistling as if they'd lost their minds.

To be honest, Anson knew next to nothing about the fashion world.

He glanced at Eddie, noticing that Eddie's nervousness had eased a bit, and a slight smile was beginning to form on his lips as he clapped for Anson.

Anson noticed, "Eddie, are you smiling?"

Anson doubted his own eyes. Eddie, noticing Anson's expression, quickly tried to suppress his smile but couldn't fully hide it. The smile lingered in his eyes, and his applause grew more enthusiastic, leaving Anson feeling exasperated—

So, what now?

Running away wasn't an option, and shyness or humility wasn't Anson's style. So, he decided to embrace the moment.

Composed, calm.

Anson accepted everything before him with grace, responding with a gentlemanly bow. Despite the slightly awkward gestures and lack of formal training in such etiquette, the natural rebelliousness and nonchalance in his demeanor shone through even more brilliantly.

—Perfect.

From his outfit to his posture to his demeanor, Anson embodied everything perfectly, capping off the fashion show with a flawless conclusion.

The crowd could no longer contain itself, with the fervor in the venue reaching an unprecedented peak, completely igniting the 2001 Paris Fashion Week.

Outside, there was shock.

Even those passing by couldn't help but stop, stunned and curious about what was happening at the Dior show. Even without witnessing the show firsthand or knowing what had transpired, everyone had a sense that they were witnessing the birth of a star.

Wait, so what exactly happened at the Dior show?

Boom, boom, boom.

The Parisian sky in the afternoon blazed with the colors of the setting sun, the entire world bathed in shades of red.