Joseph was flipping through the pages of Vanity Fair, but he seemed absent-minded. Not even the explosive news of Woody Allen betraying his wife, Mia Farrow, by having an affair with their adopted Korean daughter, Soon-Yi Previn, could capture his attention.
Soon-Yi was the daughter Mia Farrow had adopted with her ex-husband. She had come to live with Woody Allen with Mia before she was ten years old. During her growing up, the elderly Woody played the role of a father. But shockingly, in 1990, sixty-five-year-old Woody actually fell in love with the just-turned-nineteen Soon-Yi. This put him in an extremely awkward situation.
Last week, while tidying up the living room, Mia accidentally found a box filled with nude photos of her adopted daughter Soon-Yi, thus discovering the horrifying affair between her husband and her daughter, which nearly caused her to collapse. After this forbidden love was exposed this week, it caused a huge stir across the entire United States—not only because of the massive age gap between Woody and Soon-Yi, but also because of their legal father-daughter relationship. It was truly shocking.
Thanks to the Allen family's scandal, almost everyone had their attention glued to the gossip inside. For several days in a row, all the major media outlets had Woody Allen on their front pages. Under such circumstances, even the 49th Golden Globe Awards had to take a backseat, let alone Hugo's embarrassment at the Golden Raspberry Awards.
Originally, Joseph just wanted to see some follow-up reports about the Razzies or the A River Runs Through It audition, but clearly now his mind was no longer on the magazine. His peripheral vision kept drifting to the side involuntarily. At this moment, Hugo was sitting at the room's only desk, head down, scribbling randomly on a magazine, looking extremely focused. In the dim lighting of the room, he appeared especially gentle.
After they drove home earlier, Hugo had found a pen and then started looking everywhere for paper, claiming he needed to jot down his creative inspiration. Unfortunately, he couldn't find any blank paper, so he ended up picking up a magazine and started drawing and writing in the blank spaces.
Joseph truly felt like his eyes were being opened. Hugo was actually writing music? On one hand, he found it unbelievable and refused to believe it, acting as if he didn't care at all; but on the other hand, he was very curious—what exactly could Hugo come up with? Although he had heard Hugo hum a few lines earlier and thought it was actually quite a good song, that didn't mean Hugo could compose a complete song. So what kind of piece would Hugo actually write? Joseph was really curious.
"Aha!" Hugo had been mumbling to himself for a while, then suddenly showed a big smile. From the side, the corners of his mouth and eyes beamed with joy, like a stream of buttery yellow light flowing gently, forming a handsome profile in the interplay of light and shadow—indescribably charming.
Joseph was trying to guess—was this a sign of smooth progress, or had the composition been completed? At this moment, Hugo stretched lazily, and Joseph immediately retracted his gaze, pretending to be fully engrossed in Vanity Fair again. But after faking it for a while, Joseph still didn't hear any movement. He couldn't help but quietly shift his gaze back to the right. Out of the corner of his eye, he quickly saw that Hugo had already turned back to studying that worn magazine again, which made Joseph let out a small sigh of relief. He slowly straightened his neck, wanting to take a look at what stage Hugo had reached.
Suddenly, Hugo turned his head, and Joseph, caught off guard while turning back, met Hugo's gaze directly. It left him a bit flustered—he nearly choked on his own saliva. He forced himself to hold it back and then nonchalantly returned his attention to the magazine. But the slight tremor in his back still gave away his secret.
Seeing Joseph trying to act tough, Hugo's smile bloomed without reservation. Then he turned around holding the magazine and sat facing Joseph, "I've finished composing. How about it? Want to take a look?"
Joseph's eyes still stayed on the magazine in front of him, but at this point, he couldn't even tell if the person in the photo was Woody Allen or Mia Farrow. He finally found a chance to clear his throat. "I don't know anything about music, why would I want to see it?"
"It's finished, let's exchange some ideas. Even if you don't understand sheet music, you can still read the lyrics." Hugo actually knew Joseph was very curious—after all, his predecessor had never shown any musical talent. This sudden burst of songwriting would naturally make Joseph, as his agent, quite curious. So Hugo figured, instead of being sneaky, why not just have an open exchange with Joseph? Besides, the essence of music lies in sharing—if one were to just admire it alone, then music would lose its true value.
Joseph still didn't shift his gaze from the magazine, but after a moment of silence—seemingly thinking something through—he finally said, "You could sing it for me, I guess." Joseph then "naturally" lifted his head and looked calmly at Hugo. "You can only tell the effect of a song by performing it. Just reading the lyrics won't reveal anything."
Hugo didn't respond—he just chuckled, which made Joseph a bit awkward. But he still maintained his composed expression, "What are you laughing at?" Hugo shook his head and waved his hand repeatedly, "Nothing, really. Just feeling a little nervous—this is my first time performing a song I've written myself."
Back when he was in the Death Or Glory band, Hugo was the rhythm guitarist, not the lead vocalist. Although he occasionally filled in as the backup singer, that wasn't his main role. So technically, what Hugo said wasn't wrong.
"My vision is wide and boundless.
I enjoy walking every day on the road ahead, admiring the world outside the window, which means saying goodbye to the past and starting the journey from today."
Hugo's voice was so warm, tinged with a faint light-blue melancholy, fluttering in the messy, cramped space like a firefly—gradually weaving the melody into one's heart.
Then suddenly, Hugo burst out with tremendous energy. His voice grew more powerful as the melody rose—not with the hoarseness of rock singers, but with a velvet-like richness. It surged and tugged like turbulent waves, incredibly grand. "I once heard Mr. Halley's Comet whisper to me, 'Why do you always stay in the same place?' Even those who land on the moon will soon disappear somewhere in the stratosphere." Then Hugo couldn't help closing his eyes, pouring all his energy into that one moment, "Please tell my parents that I've done my best, so they'll know this is the life I've chosen for myself—I hope they understand."
Listening closely to the emotions in the lyrics—bitterness, guilt, and sunlight—it was like rays piercing through the dark clouds, tinting the oppressive sky with a faint golden glow, so beautiful that it rendered one speechless. Hugo's profound interpretation of the lyrics released the emotion in the melody to the fullest.
Joseph was a bit stunned. He had guessed that this was a very good song, but the reality far exceeded his expectations. He had also suspected that Hugo had a good voice. Although his vocal techniques were still a bit raw, the emotional outburst covered up these flaws, giving the song an infinite charm.
Joseph could clearly feel the struggle within Hugo's heart—on one side, the ties of family; on the other, the pull of dreams. This was a story nearly everyone would go through: whether to succumb to the pressures of life or to break free and bravely pursue their dreams.
In Hugo's song, he gave his answer: "I'm not sulking but quietly speaking: sometimes leaving means a second chance. Please don't cry for me, I'm not afraid of what I'm saying. This is my one and only voice, so please listen carefully, just for today."
Hugo poured all his entanglement, hesitation, pain, and longing into the song, weaving it into the melody, singing it out in a cathartic way. It was like standing at the edge of a cliff and shouting loudly into an empty valley, letting his emotions burst out without restraint.
"Sometimes leaving means a second chance." This was Hugo's answer—simple and plain, yet genuine and moving. Joseph looked at the emotionally singing Hugo and felt a part of his heart stir. Although Hugo had been maintaining a positive attitude ever since the Golden Raspberry Awards, this moment was truly different, because Joseph saw the power of dreams in Hugo.
"This is my chance, my own chance!" Hugo's voice expressed the emotions buried deep in his heart. The uneasiness and apprehension after crossing over were all gone in that moment. It had nothing to do with whether the audition for Scent of a Woman was successful. It was simply because Hugo knew that this was his chance. If he didn't seize it, not only would he be letting down fate, he would regret it for life. So he was no longer going to hesitate, no longer going to worry. He would grab this opportunity tightly and chase after his own dream because he didn't want to miss out.
"Second Chance," this was Hugo's heartfelt cry at that very moment!
Joseph looked at Hugo's emotionally charged face, and a sigh of admiration uncontrollably rose from the bottom of his heart. He wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words. In Joseph's eyes, Hugo was saying: after the life-and-death struggle on the night of the Golden Raspberry Awards, he survived—that was the second chance God gave him, and he would hold on to it tightly. That persistence moved Joseph.
But a string of sharp phone rings interrupted this beautiful moment. Not only did it cut off Hugo's singing, but it also disrupted the surging emotions inside Joseph. He stood up somewhat awkwardly, walked over to the bedside table, and picked up the landline receiver. "Yes, this is Joseph Gibbs, Hugo Lancaster's agent."
Joseph glanced back at Hugo, then continued, "Yes... no problem, of course... okay, I understand... we'll call you back about this matter later, alright? ...Okay, okay. Thank you, thank you for the call."
After hanging up the phone, Joseph turned to meet Hugo's gaze—filled with both confusion and a touch of anticipation—then took a deep breath and suppressed the excitement in his voice. "You got the role of Charlie!"
.....
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