Chapter 751: The 719th Special Experience

The movie came to an end, right after the first date between Adam and Katherine. In fact, the date had barely even begun—before it could start, Kyle, the ever-present chatterbox, had been sent off. Adam walked up to Katherine, and they stood facing each other. A smile tugged at his lips, warm and bright.

Katherine, slightly shy, bit the tip of her tongue and asked, "So?" But Adam didn't respond, his smile still lingering as he looked at her. Katherine, slightly taken aback, tilted her head and asked again, "What do we do now?"

Adam gazed into Katherine's eyes, the smile at the corner of his mouth fading into a gentle, straight line. However, the smile lingered in his eyes, like soft moonlight spilling over the ocean, casting shimmering stars across the dark sea. His eyes became brighter, filled with an ethereal glow, as if the night sky was aglow with countless stars.

And that was where the movie ended—Adam and Katherine's date had not yet begun, because their story belonged to the future. In the real world, however, Adam gathered his courage and set off to create a new future with his own hands.

Tessa couldn't help but laugh. The movie had taken an emotional turn. Following "Crazy in Love," Renly's performance in My Cancer-Fighting Me had also left its mark.

In Love Crazy, Jacob's eyes—mixed with coldness, confusion, and hopelessness—pierced through the screen, deeply resonating with the audience. The weight of the entire story hinged on that moment, sparking deep reflection. Meanwhile, in Anti-Cancer Me, Adam's eyes—warm, bright, light-hearted—lit up the entire world, as if golden sunlight had just pierced the night, unveiling a new beginning.

It was all in his eyes—no extraneous words or gestures were needed. With just a glance, Renly spoke volumes.

Tessa, moved by this, began to wonder: Could future films starring Renly also end with a look, just like this? She was serious in her thoughts.

As the movie concluded, the credits rolled, and the theater lights began to dim. Tessa noticed that many in the audience were awkwardly avoiding eye contact, trying to mask their own emotional reactions—not just the viewers, but also reporters and special guests. She, too, felt the weight of the moment, quickly lowering her head to discreetly wipe away her own tears.

The theater was filled with the sound of rustling movements as no one spoke. Suddenly, a voice broke the silence—rough, hoarse, male. "I miss you."

It was a line from the movie's closing scene, and it seemed to resonate with the audience. A smile crept across Tessa's face, and just as she was about to laugh, a second voice, this time a woman's, chimed in, "I think so too." The voice was playful, tinged with sarcasm, followed by an uncontrollable chuckle.

In an instant, the entire theater erupted in laughter.

Renly turned to Ryan Gosling, who was covering his face with his hands, clearly regretting something. Losing friends, indeed—Renly couldn't help but feel a sense of schadenfreude.

In the midst of the laughter, Tessa stood up and began to clap. She knew her action was somewhat spontaneous, but it felt necessary. Anti-Cancer Me was a commercial comedy, and after the chaotic events of the evening, the mood was heavier than usual. But that's exactly why she stood to applaud—it was a film that dealt with life's fleeting nature and its preciousness.

This movie was about new beginnings after battling death. The accident during the premiere only served to deepen the irony and make everyone reflect even more profoundly on the fragility of life.

For Tessa, the premiere marked the realization that Renly's true purpose as an artist wasn't just to be admired for his looks or fame, but to create an emotional bridge with his performances. It was the same kind of bridge that his album Don Quixote created, connecting with fans on a deep, soul-searching level.

At first, Tessa had been drawn to Renly for his appearance. But now, she found herself captivated by his performances, and she made a decision: she would listen to Don Quixote when she returned home. She now understood the significance of the album's title and the heartfelt dedication behind it.

With that, Tessa clapped even more enthusiastically. She didn't care about the timing or whether anyone else would join her. She just wanted to express her understanding and admiration for Renly, to show him that his efforts hadn't gone unnoticed.

One by one, others stood and joined her—William, Hope, Graham, and the rest of the audience. Their faces were flushed with emotion, a mix of awkwardness and joy. It was clear that the 100 minutes they had just spent in the theater had left a lasting impact on them.

The applause grew louder, more intense, like a rising tide. It reverberated throughout Alice Tully Hall, building to an overwhelming crescendo. Even the iconic Lincoln Center seemed to tremble under the weight of the collective emotion.

The applause lasted for a full three minutes, with no sign of stopping. Despite the crew's attempts to calm the audience and wrap things up, the applause only grew more fervent.

In an effort to regain control, Seth plugged a microphone into Renly and, with a dramatic gesture, handed it to him. The applause slowly subsided, and Renly's voice echoed through the microphone. "Thank you," he said, his voice carrying a sincere gratitude. Someone in the crowd shouted, "Young master, you're still handsome—even bald!" and laughter followed.

Renly chuckled softly, his lips twitching into a smile. "I think that's my biggest gain tonight," he quipped, earning another round of laughter. "Thank you to everyone in the audience for sticking with this story. This is the story of our screenwriter, Will Rissel, and fortunately, the happy ending you saw on screen is real, though I'm not sure how Katherine's story ended…"

This small remark set off another wave of laughter from the crew and audience.

Renly paused before continuing. "Thankfully, the incident tonight didn't cause any further harm. I truly hope this movie leaves you with good memories and brightens your night. Thank you again!"

His simple, heartfelt words resonated deeply, and the applause resumed, but this time, it was quieter and more meaningful, filled with hope and appreciation.

The premiere concluded shortly after, and Lionsgate decided to cancel the Q&A session and escort the audience off the stage. But the main creators stayed behind, and at 11 p.m. sharp, the second screening of Anti-Cancer Me began. It was a special opportunity for those who wanted to stay and engage in more intimate conversations with the creators.

As the guests, reporters, and critics gradually left, it became clear: this was not just a special premiere—it was an unforgettable experience for all involved.

The premiere had been chaotic, moving, and deeply thought-provoking. As the night wore on, the audience left the theater with Adam's life lingering in their minds, reflecting on their own. Was the premiere a success or a failure? Did the accident leave a positive or negative impact? Was Anti-Cancer Me a good or bad movie?

The questions remained unanswered, but one thing was certain—the emotional aftertaste of the film was just beginning.