History had already changed from the moment Anson appeared on Friends. The world now existed in a completely different parallel universe.
Undoubtedly, The Butterfly Effect was also going to be a vastly different work.
Looking back from twenty years in the future, all the major actors in this project would have become household names, if not outright stars—a stark contrast to the previous version of the film. The clash and interaction between these different actors were bound to produce entirely new chemistry.
However, the key point is that even a star-studded cast can result in a massive flop. Not every collaboration leads to a sum greater than its parts; sometimes, it can be the beginning of a disaster.
With a new cast, new lineup, and new chemistry, everything was uncertain.
It might succeed, it might fail miserably, or it might not make any waves at all.
For Anson, this was an experiment—an exploration and development in this new parallel universe. Even if it failed, it wouldn't matter much, as the investment was only ten million dollars. But this attempt would help determine Anson's future development strategy.
After all—
In his second life, Anson had already decided to live freely. Regardless of success or failure, he wanted to embrace bold experimentation. This would be the first time, but it certainly wouldn't be the last. This kind of adventure was the best way to feel the energy and color of life.
He was ready.
Seeing Heath, a genuine smile spread across Anson's face.
Heath was, after all, Heath—wearing a simple gray T-shirt and jeans, carrying a small cloth bag that seemed to hold a change of clothes. That was it, like a drifter heading to San Francisco to strike gold, with nothing to his name, ready to hit the road at any moment.
"Yo," Heath greeted in a low voice.
Low-key, reserved, and succinct.
Anson stepped forward and gave Heath a high-five.
"Are you ready?"
Heath, slightly dazed, responded, "Not terrible."
This reply made Anson laugh, "Are you sure that's good news?"
Heath lightly shrugged, "At least it's not bad news."
Anson laughed heartily.
Without further small talk, Anson beckoned to Heath, Aaron, and the other actors, heading toward the set. "Looks like we're ready to roll."
…
Another movie was starting. It seemed no different from previous projects, just another role, another life to experience.
But stepping into this production, the feeling was slightly different.
Perhaps it was because this was the first project Anson had chosen to perform in on his own. Perhaps it was because this was the first project where Anson was both producer and actor. Perhaps it was because the seemingly unrelated plot of The Butterfly Effect eerily mirrored Anson's current life and even predicted his future…
Perhaps it was all of these reasons, or perhaps it was none.
In any case, the feeling was strange.
Especially when they started filming the first scene.
Anson, dressed in a bathrobe, was off to the side, doing push-ups and sit-ups with tiger-like ferocity, a last-minute effort to prepare.
Rachel, also in a bathrobe, carefully adjusted the hem to cover herself, sitting on the edge of the bed with her legs crossed, appearing extremely tense.
Nervousness was real.
Shyness was real, too.
Of course, anticipation was also real.
Strictly speaking, this wasn't Rachel's first time performing in front of the camera, but with all her experience combined, this was only her third project. It was also her first time as a lead actress, making the atmosphere entirely different.
And the first scene they were shooting was an intimate one!
An intimate scene!
Rachel's toes curled in embarrassment. This was only her second time meeting Anson.
The first time they met, Anson had "confessed" that he had liked her for a long time.
The second time they met, they were already stripping down.
That escalated quickly!
It was already the 21st century, the internet age. Young people always said everything was sped up—first date, first kiss, second date, straight to the bedroom; by the third or fourth date, they were already amicably breaking up. This was the supersonic era.
But Rachel admitted that she hadn't kept up with the times.
She had always thought of herself as very modern and open, but now she realized it was a façade; she was more conservative than she had imagined.
Off to the side, Anson was working out, making sure his arms and shoulders looked more defined. Rachel kept trying to avert her gaze, but her peripheral vision couldn't help drifting toward him.
His smooth skin had a faint wheat-colored glow, with the indoor lights cascading over his muscular contours like a waterfall. The heat of his hormones seemed to wash over her, and she thought she could hear the sound of his low, heavy breathing…
"Stop!"
"Rachel, stop!"
Rachel closed her eyes. She had to stop these useless daydreams, or her breathing would go haywire.
She still couldn't picture herself filming an intimate scene on the big screen.
Oh, damn it, God!
"Sorry," Anson's voice suddenly came from beside her, startling Rachel as if she'd been shocked by electricity. She snapped her eyes open and instinctively moved aside.
After she completed this series of actions, Rachel realized she had overreacted. Grimacing, she snuck a glance at Anson.
Anson wasn't angry; instead, he smiled. "Maybe we should stop apologizing to each other, act professionally, and get into character?"
That one comment made Rachel's lips curl into a smile, slightly easing her tense mood.
Anson quickly followed up with another remark, "I always thought I was following in Leonardo DiCaprio's footsteps, but I didn't expect to be Brad Pitt?"
Rachel burst out laughing—
Leonardo was known for his face—that face alone was enough to make countless women swoon. Brad was known for his physique—his role in Seven where he boxed shirtless was what earned him the title of a sex symbol.
Right now, Anson was wearing gray sweatpants, but nothing on his upper body.
Rachel realized that Anson was teasing her for not being able to look directly at him, which made her lift her head and look at him squarely.
"I'm just worried about this scene; you don't need to overthink it."
As she spoke, Rachel let her gaze drop, briefly surveying Anson's upper body.
Anson didn't say anything, but he intentionally flexed his chest and biceps like a bodybuilder, and Rachel couldn't help but burst out laughing again.
The awkward, stiff atmosphere noticeably relaxed.
Anson raised his hands in a surrender gesture, his face serious as he clarified, "I swear this wasn't my idea. I'm innocent, and I hope Miss McAdams will remember that."
Surprisingly, Rachel glanced at Anson and intentionally struck a coy pose, "A little disappointed, honestly. I was hoping you'd pull some strings to get this scene shot early."
That comeback caught Anson off guard.
Rachel's eyes flashed with a sly sparkle—she wasn't going to stay on the defensive forever.
Anson was momentarily stunned, "Wait, is this a trap? If there are paparazzi sneaking photos, give me a heads up. My agent says my right side is more photogenic, though I don't have a personal preference."
Rachel hadn't expected Anson to be so cooperative. The two continued to joke and laugh, their smiles bright and unreserved, completely dispelling the tension and anxiety in the air.