### Chapter 63: Love Triangle

Something felt slightly off, as if there was a subtle sense of unease—

From the car ride to the appearance on stage, and then to the first words spoken, step by step, unknowingly and silently, Anson was breaking expectations and overturning the balance.

Every detail exceeded the imagination of the reporters present, so much so that the initiative gradually fell into Anson's hands.

This... wasn't how it was supposed to be.

As a seasoned reporter, Nicholas immediately sensed something was amiss. There wasn't time to think it through carefully now; he had to regain control of the situation.

"Anson, may I ask, have you heard the rumor that Brad Pitt is trying to kick you out of the 'Friends' cast?"

He got straight to the point as soon as he spoke.

No pleasantries, no beating around the bush, just straight to the heart of the matter.

The chaotic and noisy atmosphere slightly calmed down, and all the eager, intense gazes converged on Anson, instantly surrounding the young man.

Yet, Anson didn't panic.

In his previous life, before trying out different jobs, he had majored in Journalism and Communication in university. He not only interned at a newspaper, but also worked at a TV station after graduation. Before switching careers to seek opportunities in other industries, he genuinely enjoyed working in the news industry.

And now, he still did.

Media. Reporters. Paparazzi. Publicity. These concepts from journalism and communication weren't intimidating to Anson; they even felt somewhat familiar.

From his past life to his current one, dealing with the media again felt like a long-lost experience. Although his position was different now, it still felt like reuniting with an old friend.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, revealing a joyful and happy expression as he said, "Oh, so this is why you're all gathered here."

Nicholas: ...

Reporters: ???

Why did Anson's voice sound as if he was meeting an old friend? That genuine happiness... something wasn't right.

Could it be because this newcomer was overjoyed to finally attract media attention?

Nicholas couldn't comprehend it—

In any case, from the moment Anson stepped on stage, everything that had happened so far was beyond understanding.

But Nicholas quickly regained his composure. "So, what's your opinion on this?"

He immediately followed up with another question.

As Nicholas asked, the other reporters cooperated eagerly, promptly thrusting their voice recorders toward Anson.

They were just voice recorders, but they seemed like daggers aimed at Anson's face, mouth, nose, neck, and other vital areas.

The pressure, filled with a sense of threat and impact, was overwhelming, as if the next moment Anson might be bloodied on the spot.

Honestly, even a seasoned veteran would find it hard to bear being the focus of such a scene; Anson was no exception.

Being in this kind of situation as a journalist and as the interviewee are two completely different experiences.

Anson could feel his heart tighten slightly.

He was startled.

However, after the brief shock, an indescribable excitement and familiarity surged through his veins, and a newfound confidence made him stand taller.

"Ta-da, here I am, at Studio 24, right?"

The crowd exchanged confused glances; a small portion of them couldn't even comprehend what Anson's seemingly nonsensical response meant.

Nicholas was momentarily stunned but quickly realized that the young man in front of him might not be as straightforward as they had imagined.

Before Nicholas could speak, another reporter quickly asked, "What do you mean?"

Anson turned towards the source of the voice, "I'm guessing it means the rumor doesn't exist?"

It wasn't a statement, but a rhetorical question—

Mocking, teasing.

Although Anson didn't say it outright, the implication was that he was ridiculing the reporters' stupidity.

At the same time, he denied the rumor in a playful manner—if the rumor were true, he wouldn't be here, so his presence proved that the rumor was baseless. However, he avoided responding directly, thereby sidestepping any direct confrontation with Brad Pitt, still steering clear of any sharp edges.

Experienced, sharp, and precise.

Most importantly, everything was resolved invisibly. The entire handling and response left no traces, from the words to the attitude, it was all seamless.

Nicholas's heart tightened.

He began to doubt himself—was he overthinking?

Perhaps Anson was just messing around; perhaps he was merely avoiding the issue... after all, this young man was only eighteen.

From the moment he appeared until now, it had been just sixty seconds, far too little time to judge a person.

Nicholas pulled himself together again; he needed to probe further. "So, you mean you believe Brad Pitt didn't do that?"

Anson was evading, while Nicholas was pushing him to confront the issue.

Before Anson could answer, Nicholas pressed on, "Or are you saying that Brad Pitt did do that, but David Crane, in order to prove that he wouldn't be manipulated by others, went against Brad Pitt's wishes and gave you another chance? Have you become a pawn in their power struggle?"

Step by step, Nicholas pressed harder and harder.

The noise around them settled again as the other reporters held their breath, because Nicholas's question hit the crux of the matter.

Whether it was Brad Pitt or David Crane, both were not people to be easily offended. Taking sides in this matter meant offending one or the other. Although rumors had been swirling around Los Angeles for the past couple of days, and the truth seemed imminent, it was still only speculation.

If someone said that David Crane was using Brad's name to create a media frenzy to increase his bargaining power, people wouldn't be surprised.

And now.

Nicholas was trying to break this bubble through Anson, the weak link.

Everyone held their breath.

Not because they were focused on Anson, but because Brad Pitt and David Crane were the real heavyweights here.

And what about Anson?

The eighteen-year-old boy in front of them still had a youthful and fresh face, but there was an air of maturity and composure that belied his age in his expression.

He, with the corners of his mouth gently curving into a smile, asked in return, "What do you think?"

Nicholas furrowed his brow, staring into Anson's eyes. The sunlight reflected in those eyes, making it hard to see clearly, and he instinctively replied, "I believe it's true."

Without missing a beat, Anson shot back, "Can you prove it?"

Nicholas, "Uh."

He choked on his words. At this moment, he was trying to use Anson to prove the rumor. Otherwise, did Anson think they were out here jogging and sunbathing?

Nicholas didn't panic, continuing to press, "I'm asking for your opinion."

Anson's smile faded, and his eyes took on a serious look, the golden sunlight seemingly bursting with an astonishing energy. "Whoever asserts must prove."

"If you're suspicious about this matter, then the burden of proof lies with you, not me. Why don't you show us the evidence that makes you doubt this?"

"Anyone can spout nonsense without any cost, but I believe journalists still have a basic sense of professional ethics and wouldn't talk rubbish."

"So."

A pause, and the smile returned to his lips.

"I believe you're here because you've already found the truth, right? I'm just waiting for the answer from the king without a crown."

Anson looked directly into Nicholas's eyes, calm and direct, not aggressive, but radiating a confidence and pride from within.

Nicholas, without even realizing it, swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, as if a fire had ignited in his lungs.

Around them, there was silence. Not a sound was heard.