"Beat it!"
While issuing the warning and clenching his fists, the young man turned and strode toward Anson. The tension between them crackled like static in the sweltering heat.
Scarlett could no longer stand by and watch. "Stop! Adrian, damn it, stop!"
But the situation didn't slow down.
The young man didn't halt his steps, and Anson was also closing the distance rapidly. In the blink of an eye, the two collided like high-speed trains.
Anson's focus sharpened. A quick glance told him the young man was shorter and slighter in build, with no obvious signs of regular exercise in his shoulders or arms. In that split second, Anson completed his assessment and kept moving forward.
The young man was half a beat slower in recognizing Anson's face. "It's you!"
However—
Anson saw the young man raise his right hand. His pupils contracted. Striking first, he swiftly grabbed the young man's wrist and yanked it toward himself.
Caught off guard, the young man lost his balance and stumbled forward.
Anson sidestepped slightly, leading with his right shoulder to block the young man's momentum. At the moment of impact, he used his shoulder as a pivot to generate force—pushing forward with his upper body while hooking his right leg behind the young man's knee, locking it in place. The combined forces from above and below converged.
Release. Explode.
Thud!
The young man was flipped over like a ragdoll, landing hard on his backside with a muffled thud.
The world spun. Birds chirped.
The young man groaned as overwhelming pain surged through him, swallowing his rationality. He lay there, stunned, even forgetting to cry out.
Everything happened in the blink of an eye.
Before the standoff could escalate, the outcome was already decided.
Scarlett covered her mouth in shock, her gaze darting between the young man on the ground and Anson, disbelief written all over her face.
The next second—
"Hah."
Scarlett knew she shouldn't laugh. It was completely inappropriate. But—
"Haha. Hahaha!"
It was just too funny.
The young man lay on the ground with a look of utter despair, shooting Scarlett a glare.
Scarlett noticed. "Sorry, Adrian. Haha, sorry! I know, I know, I know... but, haha, this is just too hilarious."
"I have to tell Hunter. Haha, he'd laugh himself silly."
Doubled over with laughter, Scarlett wiped tears from the corners of her eyes before noticing Anson rushing toward her. She didn't react in time.
Anson grabbed her right hand without pause and pulled her into a sprint.
"Run!"
At his urging, Scarlett didn't overthink it. She ran with him, the California afternoon breeze—carrying hints of sea salt and sunlight—tangling in her hair. A smile spread across her lips as her heart took flight, racing alongside him.
Faster, just a little faster—it felt like they could soar on the wind.
Unconsciously, Scarlett looked up and met those azure eyes glancing back at her, brimming with brilliance under the creamy sunlight.
Time paused briefly in that moment, a decimal between 0 and 1 stretching a second into eternity, as if they could keep running like this forever.
Laughing, sprinting, crossing the street—they finally stopped beside a car. Only then did Scarlett realize Anson was reaching for his keys to unlock it.
"Wait, wait, Prince Charming..."
Her thoughts were still catching up.
"Anson, wait, Anson—"
Gasping for breath, Scarlett finally remembered his name and stopped him.
"We... we don't need to run. That's my brother."
Succinct and to the point.
Scarlett did her best to explain the situation as simply as possible.
Then she watched as shock and panic flickered in Anson's eyes.
"Hah." Scarlett couldn't help it. "Sorry, I know I shouldn't laugh, but I can't help it. Haha, hahaha!"
Anson looked from Scarlett to the young man now sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk like a meditating monk, then to the abandoned cart and water bottles left behind—
He had to admit, the scene was pretty comical.
If Anson remembered correctly, Scarlett had an older sister, a brother, and a twin brother. That brother's name was indeed Adrian.
"But..." Anson's lips curled into a smile. Then what was all that about earlier?
Scarlett knew she owed him an explanation. "Adrian's my brother. My actual brother. I, uh... was trying to avoid him."
Anson: ???
What kind of plot twist was this?
So it was all just a big misunderstanding?
"I thought he was some kind of mob debt collector," Anson couldn't resist quipping.
Scarlett's lips twitched. "In a way, you're not wrong."
Anson raised an eyebrow. "Like Macaulay Culkin?"
The child star, who skyrocketed to fame with Home Alone, later became his parents' cash cow. As a minor, Macaulay had no control over his life, everything falling into his parents' hands—until he spiraled into substance abuse to escape reality.
Scarlett froze. "You know me?"
Anson paused. Though Scarlett had started as a child actor, debuting on the big screen in 1994, she was far from famous at this point—
Her most notable work so far was probably The Horse Whisperer, but she wasn't the focus.
Thinking fast, Anson countered, "You're an actor?"
Without waiting for her answer, he tilted his chin up slightly. "Well, welcome to Hollywood."
The light teasing drew another laugh from Scarlett.
She didn't explain further—neither confirming nor denying her profession. "I'm not Macaulay, and Adrian's not some exploitative guardian."
Then, after a beat, she glanced at Adrian across the street and added half-jokingly,
"At least not yet."
After all, in a place like Hollywood, who could guarantee they wouldn't lose their way?
Scarlett reined in her smile slightly and continued, "I had two jobs to finish today, but God, I really, really didn't want to work."
"Ever felt that way? Like you're resisting work with every fiber of your being? So... I ran."
Anson chuckled. "Yeah, I get it. Sometimes, even before bed, I'm already counting down to quitting time the next day."
Scarlett's eyes lit up. "Exactly! I know the work has to get done, but I..." She trailed off, then shrugged. "Well, at least I got a little escape—a fifteen-minute vacation. It's not all bad."
Anson arched a brow. "Like Princess Ann?"
In Roman Holiday, Audrey Hepburn's Princess Ann, weary of her stifling duties, sneaks out to enjoy the night—only to accidentally meet Gregory Peck's journalist Joe. The two share a brief but delightful day of freedom.
Scarlett blinked, then looked up, her gaze meeting Anson's clear, bright blue eyes.
(End of chapter)