"Oh, God."
"Jesus Christ."
"Damn it."
"This... This is insane..."
"No way..."
Exclamations, curses, doubts, and sighs of amazement.
The Wilshire Theater buzzed like a boiling pot of water, the roiling murmurs raising the temperature of the air.
All eyes turned to Anson.
Anson raised his hands in surrender.
"I might not be right, I'm just sharing my personal perspective."
Heath wasn't buying it.
"So, what exactly is your perspective?"
Anson could feel the heat on his skin as countless eyes bore into him.
"I think both Jason and Evan are trapped in a vicious cycle."
"Jason realized long ago that he couldn't save everyone, so he tried to stop Evan from making reckless decisions that could destroy everything."
"Jason knew that if Andrea miscarried, she'd spiral back into depression—maybe ending her own life, maybe smoking herself into lung cancer, or perhaps losing the will to live entirely."
"So, again and again, Jason tried to stop Evan from strangling himself with the umbilical cord."
"But the problem is, Evan was also trying to save Keller. Each of his attempts ended in failure and the same result, so he believed his disappearance was the only solution."
"And so, Evan kept killing himself, and Jason kept reviving him."
"Both of them are caught in a loop."
Gasp!
Shock spread across the theater.
Suddenly, Jason's words and erratic actions toward Evan all started to make sense.
"Finally, Jason realized they couldn't make everyone happy or strive for perfection. They had to accept the pain, struggles, and sorrow in life. That's the only way to find happiness."
One revelation after another, Anson dropped bombshells.
The impact spread, silencing the theater.
It wasn't a speechless silence—far from it. Minds were racing with thoughts, so many that no one knew where to start.
Heath blinked rapidly and then abruptly turned.
"Director, is that it? Was the ending all Evan's imagination?"
Right, the director was here. Why were they guessing?
And not just the director—the screenwriter!
If anyone had the definitive answer, it should be them, right?
Eric Bress: ...
J. Mackye Gruber: ...
Tonight's unprecedented premiere had left the two relatively unknown directors entirely overshadowed by the crowd, denying them their moment in the spotlight.
It was clearly not what they had imagined. After waiting so long for their moment under the limelight, both felt a twinge of disappointment.
Now, with Heath's direct question, they were thrust into the spotlight, thousands of eyes bearing down on them like predators ready to shred them to pieces. The tension and anxiety were nothing like they'd envisioned.
To be honest, the two directors were introverted geeks. Thrust suddenly into the glaring spotlight, they felt more fear than excitement.
Eric's knees almost gave out, but then he remembered he was seated. He couldn't exactly fall down.
Mackye blinked nervously, swallowing hard before squeezing out words from his throat.
"I think it's better to let the audience discover the answer themselves."
As soon as the words left his mouth, Mackye felt like he was being choked. The murderous glares from the audience made him want to scream for help.
This spotlight was too dangerous. Mackye thought staying behind the scenes might be safer after all.
He hunched his shoulders as if trying to shrink and disappear, casting a pleading look toward Anson.
Unexpectedly, Anson merely watched the drama unfold with an amused expression.
Mackye almost burst into tears.
Noticing Mackye's distress, Anson decided to stop teasing the directors.
"I don't think even the directors hold the absolute truth. After all, the film leaves room for open interpretation. Everyone is entitled to their own perspective."
"Hey, even the directors might not be 100% right. Who knows, maybe when they wrote the script, they didn't think about this at all?"
Eric straightened up, ready to protest. They had spent years refining this script—of course, they had thought it through!
But seeing the audience's predatory eyes, Eric wisely sank back down and mouthed a quick "Thank you" to Anson.
The audience, however, wasn't paying attention to Mackye, Eric, or even Anson anymore. Inspired by Anson's words, ideas began to erupt like fireworks.
Contrasting opinions found their voices, and a heated brainstorming session began.
"No, no, no, that doesn't make sense. If Jason accepted reality, then Evan shouldn't have appeared at all. So Andrea might have still left, fallen in love with someone else, and had a child with them. That explains the final scene!"
"Wait, hold on. The parallel timeline theory in Butterfly Effect doesn't work like that. Jason and Evan's choices wouldn't always be identical. Every choice would lead to a different outcome, so how could all the outcomes end up the same? The scenarios should be uncertain."
"True, but what if the ultimate result is still the same? Even if they don't destroy their lovers, they might destroy their families?"
"That's... that's too cruel!"
"Which is why it's called fate! That's why Jason and Evan went insane."
"Wait, wait, there's a plot hole. At the end, the doctor said Jason and Evan were both searching for something that didn't exist—Jason's diary and Evan's photo albums. But why did Evan see those albums at the start of the film?"
"Where?"
"Uh, early on. And his grandfather's death certificate was at the mental hospital too."
"I think those were in a different timeline. In the first timeline, the albums were still there, and Jason was still sane enough to talk to Evan. But in the final timeline, the albums might have disappeared, and Jason went insane—or maybe he was already dead."
"No, no, no. That doesn't add up. If Jason stopped trying to save Evan and accepted reality, why would he still be in the mental hospital?"
"I disagree. In this timeline, Evan finally strangled himself with the umbilical cord. That means Andrea would still fall into despair, so I think Jason stayed alive and tried to save Andrea again."
"No! Capital N-O. Jason must have let go, accepted that Evan would always die, and parted ways with Andrea."
The chatter grew louder and more animated.
The discussions were unstoppable, and nearly everyone joined in—no exceptions.
In the Wilshire Theater, nearly 2,000 audience members stayed behind after the film. There were no cheers, no applause, no celebratory shouts, and no post-screening Q&A with the cast and crew. Yet they remained, expressing their love for the film in the most direct way possible.
A storm was brewing.
(End of Chapter)