"Apologies, the projector has encountered a slight malfunction. Please give us five minutes. Thank you for your understanding."
The organizer explained the situation before turning and heading back behind the screen.
No one at the scene seemed surprised—it wasn't the first time something like this had happened.
Karen showed some concern.
"These old movies are all on film reels, right? If the copy is damaged, we might not be able to watch it. I hope the projector isn't seriously broken."
"Ha, Blair, do you feel like you've traveled back in time? It's like we're in the seventies. People used to experience this all the time in theaters, didn't they?"
As they spoke, Karen's mood lightened, momentarily forgetting the frustrations of the night and instead embracing the atmosphere, enjoying the Friday evening.
But something felt off.
Blair froze, her mind going blank for a moment.
The students were particularly lively, with applause and whistles filling the air. Amid the commotion, a student turned and disappeared behind the large screen.
The noise grew closer, and Karen nudged her friend with her shoulder, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh.
Karen: ...
Her ears rang with the echoing sounds.
Without thinking too much, Karen asked, "If the film reel can't be played, what do you think they'll do?"
Finally, someone reacted and raised their voice to ask a question.
Perhaps they were just as handsome, or maybe they still had that youthful glow, clearly selected from the finest college students, but they definitely weren't Anson.
There was no way she was mistaken.
"Haha, hahahaha!" Karen burst into inexplicable laughter.
And then—
Once. Then again.
"Where's the organizer…"
The first person spoke.
Then—
"Karen, it's all your fault. I thought that student looked like Anson."
"Blair?"
She hesitated.
Blair took a deep breath, pulling her scattered thoughts back down to earth.
Karen paused, following Blair's lead and sighing, "Oh, if Anson showed up here, that would be amazing."
Blair gave her a resigned look, nudging Karen with her elbow, signaling that the movie was starting.
Blair exhaled a long breath, returning to normal. "Maybe they'll skip straight to the third one? Didn't they say there'd be a Superman marathon tonight?"
Wait a minute. NYPD? Or was it the FBI?
"Karen…"
Blair's delayed realization hit her as she noticed that all three figures in front of the screen were wearing pilot uniforms.
Karen covered her mouth and whispered, "I just imagined Anson showing up suddenly, and I think the audience would freeze in shock. It'd be hilarious."
But why?
Blair quickly apologized, shooting Karen a look to stop her.
Wait, could it be?
"My name is Frank William Abagnale."
Catch Me If You Can was playing in theaters, but why was NYU screening it at Washington Square? Was this even legal? Did the audience need to be questioned by the police?
When Karen glanced over, Blair waved it off, "No, no, it's nothing," deciding it was best not to mention her wild thoughts to Karen. If Karen got her hopes up again only to be let down, the night would be truly ruined. Blair didn't want that for her, especially not on a Friday.
Karen blinked, "Haha, why are you blaming me for your crazy thoughts?"
Catch Me If You Can.
"Claire?"
On screen, it was the guessing game scene with three pilots, and now, in front of the screen, three people stood blocking the same characters in the film, breaking the fourth wall, as if the characters had stepped into real life.
Behind the big screen, there was no response, as if they were completely unaware of their mistake.
The spotlight flickered on, and the screams and cheers soared to the sky, but in the next second, the three figures in front of them were—
This film came out in 1980, over 20 years ago. No one knew how well the film copy had been preserved, but thanks to the earlier warning, Blair was already mentally prepared for a disastrous opening. Surprisingly, the picture was crystal clear.
The rustling noises continued.
However, Karen got no response.
On the big screen, the movie had just started. It seemed like it wasn't Superman II but—
Hiss.
A little slow to react, Blair turned to look, eyes wide with disbelief, unable to say a word, tugging at Karen.
Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?
Why did Superman II turn into Catch Me If You Can?
Was this a screening error or what?
"Blair…"
She had just teased Karen for going crazy, but it looked like she was just as bad.
"My name is Frank William Abagnale."
Blair turned to Karen, feeling her breath quicken, her throat dry. "Karen, this is…"
Blair stared at the figure, or rather, the silhouette. The lighting was too dim to make out any features, just a vague outline, but Blair couldn't tear her eyes away.
But before they could continue, three figures darted out from behind the screen, and the audience thought they were the organizers, only to see them standing tall in front of the screen—
They weren't Anson.
Buzz.
Blair nodded, "Yeah, right? I feel like I'm losing it." She rubbed her face, trying to snap herself out of it, letting out a groan. "God, I really miss Anson. I'm seeing things now."
Wait!
Blair: ...
The whole scene was in shock.
Wait…
Despite the brief delay, Superman II eventually started playing.
The movie had begun.
Finally snapping out of it, Blair turned to Karen, her eyes filled with confusion and surprise, shaking her head with a helpless smile, dismissing her absurd thoughts.
The crowd was dead silent.
Claire seemed a little lost in thought, only now snapping back at the sound of Karen's voice, startled. "Oh, it's nothing, I just spaced out."
Around them, murmurs of confusion and surprise were spreading, clearly showing Blair wasn't the only one who noticed something odd. But no one could find an answer, leaving Washington Square buzzing with unease.
That figure wearing a Yankees baseball cap appeared again.
A pause.
"Thank you for your patience. The issue has been resolved, and the screening will resume shortly. However, due to the film's age, the opening may show some wear. We appreciate your understanding and hope you enjoy the show."
Blair's mind went blank, thoughts flooding in but failing to form, leaving her standing there, stunned.
Maybe others were still confused, but Blair and Karen had watched the film four times already and were planning a fifth. They knew every detail, so how could they be mistaken?
The retro, quirky, and stylish visuals pulled the audience back to the 1960s, even further back than the Superman era.
Thoughts churned, but none of them led to any clear conclusion. Blair's mind was blank.
Others began to stir.
Luckily, nothing worse happened.
In the midst of the stunned crowd, a few people stood up in protest—more than one.
The picture froze.
"They played the wrong film, didn't they?"
Three people, one after another.
Finally, they could see clearly—none of them were Anson.
So, what was this? Some kind of prank?