"Welcome to Kroger. Would you like a bag?"
Instinctively, the words for greeting customers flashed through Connor's mind; however, the expressions on the faces before him were different from the usual.
They were smiling, radiating warmth. One by one, they extended their right hands for a handshake, their eyes meeting his with sincere and bright gazes, emanating warmth and happiness.
A brief exchange, a handshake.
In that fleeting moment, Connor felt a cotton candy-like fluffiness expanding in his chest, filling him up almost instantly.
So this is happiness.
It wasn't just the cheers or the applause; it was the emotional connection he felt in those eyes and faces. They understood the music, the performance, and found something in the melody that resonated with them.
At this moment, the souls of strangers briefly shared a warm connection—
Not much, but it was real.
This is the power of music.
So, is this a dream? Is he still standing in the busy Kroger store, and everything happening now is just a daydream?
But even if it is a daydream, so what?
He refuses to wake up; he's willing to stay immersed in this dream, soaking in the happiness.
Only now does Connor finally understand the soul of the song "Wake Me Up." It's not foolishness, nor naivety, but a deep, passionate love. And suddenly, Connor realizes how much he loves music. Even if it's just a dream, let the notes flow through his veins as he recklessly flies towards the sun like Icarus.
What's happening? His smile is blooming, yet his vision is blurring?
And then, Connor sees the girl in front of him.
Through the mist of tears, he can't make out her face clearly, but he can see that big, radiant smile as she confidently extends her right hand.
He grasps it, firmly.
"I love your bass. Your playing has warmth and color. God, this is the first time I've realized the unique charm of the bass."
"I hope it's not too late."
Thump, thump.
Connor's heart was hit hard. The melodies he played with all his heart and soul were indeed heard. Happiness bloomed like fireworks, and he couldn't help but ask, "Can I give you a hug?"
The girl smiled brightly. "Of course."
Connor politely gave the girl a hug, carefully placing his hand on her shoulder, feeling the warmth and breath of the embrace. The warmth of life had never felt so clear.
Words weren't needed.
Blair could feel the warmth of the hug; Connor was trembling slightly—his fear and fragility, his joy and happiness, his reluctance and regret—all these complex emotions couldn't be expressed in words but were conveyed in that single hug, gently touching Blair's heart.
But Blair wasn't surprised.
She had felt these emotions during the performance.
Indeed, music doesn't lie.
In a sense, music is a performance, presenting imagined emotions and images in the mind, just like acting.
But in another sense, music and acting are entirely different. Acting is about concealing, while music is about revealing.
Only melodies that come from the soul can truly reach another soul.
No wonder everyone says, if you love music, you must experience a live performance.
Unlike the perfection of a studio recording, the emotional power of a live performance can strike the heart with perfect precision, sending shivers through the soul. It's an unparalleled experience, truly conveying the pulse of life.
It was like this last time on the streets of Manhattan, and it's the same now in the Burbank studio.
Blair believes she's lucky to have personally experienced these moments.
And witnessed it all.
After saying goodbye to Connor, Blair met the innocent and simple Miles, as well as the stubborn and proud Lily. Finally, her steps came to a halt in front of that man.
Anson Wood.
His eyes were so deep yet so clear, his mouth always curved in a roguish smile. If you weren't careful, you could lose your soul to him, yet you would always miss exploring the deeper possibilities hidden in those eyes.
But the Anson before her looked a bit different from the one in her memory.
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His smile was so light and gentle, it seemed like the slightest touch would shatter it; yet it was also so bright and brilliant, like golden sunlight softly resting in the palm of your hand, its subtle warmth making your hands and body relax.
Just like a butterfly's wings, fragile but beautiful.
Before she even realized it, Blair had already held her breath.
Maybe, the Anson they had seen before was just a façade, a mirage quietly concealing his true vulnerabilities.
Then, she approached Anson, moving carefully, as if afraid to startle that delicate butterfly.
She had so much she wanted to say—she wanted to share her joy and happiness with Anson, she wanted to help him bear the sadness and loss between his brows, she wanted to tell him that no matter what happens, she would always follow him, and she wanted...
So many words, but the moment she stood before Anson, they all vanished completely. Her mind went blank, and she froze.
Words no longer held any weight.
"Thank you."
Blair said.
Just those two simple words, but they carried all the unspoken thoughts within them.
Then Blair heard her voice continue to speak.
"Thank you for performing this song. Just... thank you."
Thank you, Anson, for coming into her life. Thank you for being willing to show your vulnerabilities. Thank you for bravely standing under the spotlight and singing your heart out. Thank you for daring to foolishly keep dreaming. And thank you for telling her that being ordinary is okay. Thank you for everything.
Thank you, Anson, for being a light in her youth, guiding her out of endless darkness and confusion, allowing her to feel her heartbeat again, to feel the warmth and strength of life flowing through her veins.
Quietly, Blair gazed at Anson. She hadn't said much, yet she felt an overwhelming urge to cry. She awkwardly rubbed her eyes, then burst into loud laughter to cover her embarrassment, happiness rippling through her smile.
Anson was stunned—
For the first time, he realized how powerful a simple "thank you" could be, carrying so much weight, pressing heavily on his chest.
Even though they had never met before, he could feel the complex emotions in that smile.
His own smile, tinged with bitterness and sadness, crept up to the corners of his mouth, and Anson asked, "I'm Anson, and you are?"
Blair was caught off guard, her thoughts unable to keep up, and she instinctively replied, "Blair."
Anson smiled, "Nice to meet you, Blair."
Blair froze, her heart swelling with a dull ache, and it took her a moment to realize that she was standing there, silently crying like a madwoman. She hurriedly wiped her eyes, saying, "God, I must look like a lunatic, but..."
But what could she do? She couldn't stop. The more she wiped away the tears, the more they flowed. Even though she was happy, even though she was smiling brightly, why couldn't she stop crying?
Blair thought she must be losing her mind.
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