In an instant.
Just a brief moment.
But for Anson, that fleeting moment was enough—just the right touch, knowing when to pull back. Before Kate or Brad and Jennifer could speak, Anson's smile faded, and he returned to his cool demeanor. Seamlessly, he continued speaking.
"Obviously, as a guest star, the most important thing is knowing your place and not overshadowing the leads. I think, before I steal all the attention on tonight's red carpet, I should make my exit."
A double entendre.
Witty and humorous.
Without waiting for Kate to prompt him, or for Brad and Jennifer to respond, Anson made a polite gesture, yielding the spotlight back to them.
With a nod of acknowledgment to Brad and Jennifer, Anson then walked away.
Just like that, he left... just like that... he left...
Brad: ...
Jennifer: ...
Something seems off, doesn't it?
If you think about it, Anson just showed up, said hello, spoke a couple of lines, and that was it?
The control was in Anson's hands the entire time. He made a brief yet impactful appearance and then casually walked away, leaving no room for a response.
Is that... it?
Yet, how did he leave such a deep and vivid impression?
Kate wasn't immune to it either—
She was stunned.
She hadn't expected Anson to be so straightforward. After a self-introduction and making a strong impression, he turned and left without hesitation. His perfectly timed entrance made a powerful impact, leaving a lasting imprint on the audience's minds, and then he decisively ended it, leaving an echo that lingered.
Smart. Precise. Assertive.
He was in control the whole time.
Even Brad and Jennifer struggled to steer the situation; the conversation hadn't fully developed before the main player was already gone. What could they do?
Wait, the main player?
So, in that brief encounter, who was the lead, and who was the supporting act?
Involuntarily, Kate glanced at Anson's departing figure, a spark of interest in her eyes. She then refocused on the couple in front of her.
"Anson, a charismatic actor, right?"
Jennifer flashed a bright smile, "Yes, definitely."
In front of the TV.
Blair let out a groan, "Ugh!"
Her mother's voice came from behind, "What's wrong now?"
Blair clutched her cheeks, "Anson left, how could he leave so quickly?" Then, switching tones, "But, Anson, Anson is really so good-looking, ahhh!"
Mother: ...
Meanwhile, Anson continued walking, with no hesitation or reluctance—
Knowing your limits, that's key.
He knew when to stop.
However, the impact was still spreading.
The attention hadn't faded; the reporters' eyes were still on Brad and Jennifer, but the camera lenses quietly lingered on Anson.
Click.
Click, click, click...
They couldn't stop.
Meanwhile, Anson kept moving forward, showing no attachment or hesitation, elegantly departing.
"Anson!"
"Anson Wood!"
A series of calls made Anson stop in his tracks, and he saw the familiar face of Nicholas, which made Anson slightly surprised.
He had assumed that all the major mainstream media would be focused on Brad and Jennifer, and if he wasn't mistaken, the person in front of him was from "The New York Times." Yet, here he was, standing in the latter part of the red carpet. Did this reporter have colleagues stationed at the front part?
Thoughts flickered through his mind.
Anson nodded slightly towards Nicholas, but instead of stepping forward, he continued walking a few more steps.
Nicholas: ???
Perplexed, Nicholas then saw Anson stop not far from Jane Kaczmarek, keeping a respectful distance, and politely speaking.
"Ms. Kaczmarek, it's an honor to meet you here tonight. I just wanted to tell you how much I admire your work."
Jane Kaczmarek was stunned, completely taken aback.
Originally, Jane had been ready to leave—no interviews, no applause, no cheers—much like her career. The Emmys' red carpet didn't seem to match what she had seen on TV. She should keep her composure, hold her head high, and move forward to the photo area to leave her mark—
Maybe no one else would know she had attended the Emmys, but at least she could leave some trace behind.
But she couldn't help feeling reluctant. She had stayed too long in the long, unremarkable seasons of obscurity, to the point where she almost forgot that she was an actor. This was a job in the spotlight, not an anonymous nine-to-five job hidden in the shadows, to the point where even her family didn't know what she was doing.
Finally, she had stepped onto the red carpet. Finally, she was under the spotlight. Finally, she was standing alongside top stars.
She wanted to linger a bit longer.
Even without the flash of cameras, she just wanted to stay here a little while.
Does that seem too humble?
Her steps moved forward slowly, but she couldn't bring herself to walk away. She scanned the crowd with a mix of yearning and hope, trying to imprint the scene before her into her memory.
Because she didn't know if she'd have the chance to walk the red carpet at the Shrine Auditorium again next year.
As cruel as it may be, that's the reality of an actor's life. Even if "Malcolm in the Middle" got an Emmy nomination, it didn't guarantee a renewal. Their fate was never fully in their own hands, constantly worrying about tomorrow, about the future, about disappearing like a bubble.
Then.
"Ms. Kaczmarek…"
Jane saw the figure approaching her, but the rest of the words turned into a blur, drowned out by the overwhelming flashes of cameras around them.
It took a full three seconds before Jane finally snapped back to reality. "You said you liked my performance? Me?"
Anson nodded gently. "I hope I didn't mispronounce your name, or that would be terrible."
Jane waved her hands repeatedly, "No, no, no, your pronunciation was perfect. Kaczmarek, that's me."
"Oh, God…"
Jane didn't know why, but even though she was surrounded by joy and happiness, her eyes filled with tears. She clumsily covered her mouth.
"Sorry, I don't know what's happening to me. Oh, God."
Anson, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, looked down at his outfit—
Empty pockets.
To maintain the outfit's lines, he hadn't brought anything with him tonight; his pockets were empty.
Anson gestured slightly, turned, and took a few quick steps—being tall, he quickly reached the reporters, and asked Nicholas, who looked utterly baffled, "Do you have a tissue or a handkerchief?"
Nicholas hadn't fully processed what was happening. He instinctively searched his pocket and pulled out a tissue, but just before handing it to Anson, he snapped back to reality. Holding onto the tissue, he looked into Anson's puzzled eyes. He was worried Anson might leave again without following the usual rules, so he seized the moment.
"One question. So, how do you feel tonight?"
Anson raised an eyebrow slightly, a sly gleam in his eyes. "There are really a lot of people."
Nicholas was stunned.
Anson had already taken the tissue and turned away.
Nicholas stood there, giving a helpless smile. Just then, his pocket vibrated.
At this moment, unless it was something urgent, no one would usually contact him.
"This is Nicholas."
"Hey, big-time reporter, this is Eve Wilson. West 42nd."