"At the time, everything happened too fast."
"We barely had time to process it all, and then 'The Tonight Show' catapulted us to unbelievable heights—record deals, albums, magazine interviews all rushed in. Overnight, it felt like a dream."
"Honestly, after 'Catch Me If You Can' became a box office hit, I had greedier thoughts."
"Maybe we could go even further, get on the Grammy stage, start a world tour, and completely change the course of our lives."
"Even though nothing had happened yet, my head was already in the clouds."
"I can't speak for Lily and Connor—I don't know how they felt—but that's how I was, filled with excitement about our album release, thinking we could ride Anson's wave of popularity and easily succeed."
"But that's not how it's supposed to work, right?"
Miles looked at Anson—
It was hard to put into words. Admitting his own selfishness wasn't easy.
He needed courage.
But Miles always believed that facing your shortcomings and mistakes was the only way to rediscover yourself, the only path to true happiness.
"It's not that I don't want success—God knows how badly I crave it."
"But success shouldn't stray off course, and it definitely shouldn't forget the starting point of it all."
"Music."
"The reason we stuck it out for so long, failing time and time again but still trying over and over, stubborn fools that we are, is because we love music and believe it brings happiness."
"Maybe it heals wounds, maybe it's a refuge for a damaged soul, maybe it resonates with joy and happiness, or maybe it offers a brief escape from a stressful life."
"That's why Anson wants us to return to the streets, to rediscover the passion and sincerity that kept us foolishly going."
"Because a performer's mindset and state of mind directly affect the color of their performance."
"Right?"
The truth was, Anson had already explained this to them. It was why the band had revived itself and returned to street performances. But it wasn't until now that Miles could fully admit and confront the inner demons that had been hiding inside him.
Everyone's gaze now fell on Anson—
Lily and Connor's eyes revealed traces of hesitation, shadows they didn't even want to face themselves flickering there.
However—
Anson neither confirmed nor denied anything. He simply smiled.
"Don't you think street performances are something special?"
"I know a concert for 100,000 people—that's on a whole different level, a totally different feeling. I've never experienced that, so I can't imagine what a crowd that size would be like, but I bet it would humble you, make you feel small."
"But street performances are always special. The performer and the audience are so close. I can see their eyes, they can see my expressions, and the music becomes a bridge—a form of communication, a shared resonance. It breathes life into the music and lets us feel, in the most real way, that we're still alive."
"I like it."
It was a simple and pure feeling.
No fancy words, no elaborate phrasing, yet it effortlessly hit home, a warm current quietly rippling through the chest.
Like a mirror reflecting oneself.
Lily, Connor, and even Miles unconsciously drifted, exploring that feeling in the void.
Anson, as if unaware of this, asked with a bright smile, "So, what's the best spot for a street performance?"
Lily cleared her throat. "It depends on the crowd. The best spot is wherever people are, where there's foot traffic, where people come and go."
Anson, "Washington Square?"
Lily shook her head. "No, no, no. Though it's popular, the crowd doesn't really flow. Street corners, no need for landmarks or anything fancy, just ordinary street corners. For us, the streets are like our office, maybe even more than a 9-to-5 job."
As she spoke, a smile crept onto Lily's face, as memories of past performances came flooding back.
"For Miles, street performances were pure torture. He had always performed in concert halls and had never brought his cello to the streets."
Miles shook his head seriously. "Not just back then. It's still hard now."
Laughter broke out.
Miles said, "The noise, the chaos, there's no way to find peace. The whole world feels like a high-speed spin cycle. I had never performed in such an environment. The worst part? Those roaring engines and subway sounds—they probably drowned out our entire performance."
"Oh, God."
Just imagining it, you could feel how hard it was.
After all, classical instruments and street performances were worlds apart—
Imagine combining ballet and hip-hop, like in the movie Step Up, which didn't come out until 2006.
And yet Miles and his crew were hitting the streets as early as 2001. It was far harder than anyone could have imagined.
"But you still went out there, and you stuck it out," Anson said. For that alone, they deserved applause.
Miles looked up, exchanging glances with Lily and Connor, smiles appearing in their eyes and at the corners of their mouths.
Lily spread her hands, "Jesus Christ, how did we even stick it out?"
Connor said seriously, "Stupidity. Sheer stupidity got us through it."
Anson nodded, "In a way, innocence really is foolishness because society doesn't reward innocence."
They all burst into laughter.
"But if everyone were cunning and clever, some people would still need to stay innocent to give dreams the soil to take root and grow," Anson added.
Their eyes met, blood pulsing with excitement.
Anson leaned forward slightly, looking at the three of them. "I know we just finished a full day of performing, and we're all exhausted, but I have an idea."
All three of them turned to Anson.
Connor couldn't help himself. "What idea?"
Anson smiled. "How about we do a street performance right here? I mean, not a formal one—we don't have the permits to perform here, but maybe we could ask the café owner if we could play a bit of guitar?"
Miles, "Just guitar?"
Anson shrugged, a smile spreading across his face, giving nothing away.
Here? On the street? A random spot?
The rush hour crowd seemed to be slowly gathering from the subway entrance, but this wasn't a typical performance space. It was cramped, with limited sightlines. Would they really perform here?
Lily rubbed her hands together. "So, what are we playing?"
Anson glanced around. "This place isn't suited for anything too intense. We don't have time to set up all our instruments. Let's keep it simple."
They exchanged looks, a giddy excitement building between them.
After getting the café owner's approval, Anson pulled out a guitar—
Just one guitar.
He sat down in an outdoor chair in front of the café, looking at Lily, Connor, and Miles.
Slap.
Anson's hand landed on the guitar's body, producing a crisp sound.