After a busy cross-country promotional tour, Ryan finally returned to Los Angeles. By this time, four weeks had passed since the album's release, and sales had approached 2.4 million copies—a very impressive achievement for the early 1990s.
The City of Angels was Ryan's home base, one of the areas with the highest concentration of his fans, and also the final stop in his promotional tour. Disney organized a massive event here, which not only included a standard signing session but was also fully broadcast live by its Disney TV station.
All the celebrities who had a good relationship with Ryan and Nicole, as long as they could make time, came to Santa Monica's commercial plaza. Even though most of them just stopped by to say hello, they still attracted the attention of numerous media outlets.
Nearly twenty thousand people gathered near the stage at the plaza. For those unaware, it might have looked like a top-tier pop star was holding a personal concert.
Likewise, there were thousands waiting in line for the signing.
Because of this, the Los Angeles County Police Department had to deploy a large number of personnel to maintain order. Most of the fans were energetic teenagers—God only knew what they might do in their excitement.
Dozens of reporters either waited below the stage or outside the record store. They certainly didn't come in vain, capturing many celebrity sightings.
"Look! Look!" a reporter pointed to the burly man stepping out of a car. "Arnold Schwarzenegger! He came too."
"Idiot, of course he came," his colleague said disdainfully while clicking his camera. "Didn't you hear? Ryan wrote an action script especially for Arnold. James Cameron is rumored to be directing again."
"Wow~ It's Nicole Kidman and Jodie Foster!"
"Nicole! Nicole!"
When Nicole and Jodie Foster stepped out of the car together, the fans in the plaza erupted in unified shouts. Clearly, their affection for Ryan extended to his close circle as well.
"Who's that handsome man?"
Someone noticed an unfamiliar man following the two beautiful women into the record store.
"Brad Pitt! He's the male lead in Nicole's new movie!" a well-informed person clarified.
"David Fincher, the genius director, is here too. Right, I heard he's going to direct Ryan's first music video."
"Where's Drew Barrymore? Didn't she just claim a few days ago that she was Ryan's number one fan? How come she's not here?" a reporter asked.
Inside the record store, Ryan greeted the guests who came to support him one by one and discussed the upcoming on-stage interview with the Disney TV hostess, reminding her not to ask overly sensitive questions.
"Susan, don't bring up Tom Cruise anymore," he reminded.
"Alright," Susan replied with a mischievous grin. "But Ryan, don't think I'll let you off the hook that easily."
Ryan could only sigh. Talk show hosts were never easy to deal with. He walked over to Nicole Kidman, interrupting her conversation with David Fincher.
"Sorry, Nicole. I won't be able to attend your premiere."
"Sweetheart, it's okay." Nicole gently tousled his short hair.
After today's event, Ryan would soon be heading to London. For some reason, the publisher had decided to hold a signing for Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire there.
Nicole Kidman's new movie A Few Good Men was set to premiere in late February. After a brief stop in London, Ryan would have to travel to Poland, making it impossible to return in time.
With the band playing upbeat music, Ryan walked onto the stage, prompting thunderous screams from the tens of thousands of fans below.
Ryan wore his baseball cap backward, took the mic, and walked to the front of the stage. He pointed his right index finger diagonally across the crowd—from left to center to right—scanning all directions. Every time he pointed somewhere, the screams from that area would soar sky-high, as if the earth itself trembled.
"Oh, finally back in California, back in Los Angeles. I originally prepared a lot to say, to greet you all with the warmest welcome, to wave at you all, but… but I just can't!"
The crowd suddenly quieted down. Many were puzzled by Ryan's statement.
"Yes, I really can't! At least not now. Not here in Los Angeles. Not here… because this is… home! This is my home, where my dearest ones are, where my most loyal supporters are!"
Ryan's voice choked slightly with emotion, clearly moved. The tens of thousands of fans below finally understood—this young man on stage had never forgotten that he was a Los Angeles native, one of their own!
But they all forgot—this boy on stage wasn't just a singer. He was also an Academy Award-winning actor for Best Supporting Actor.
Nicole Kidman stood backstage and subtly rolled her eyes. Only she knew that Ryan didn't actually have much sentiment toward Los Angeles.
"Alright, no amount of words can match a beloved song—Climb!" Ryan gestured to the band behind him.
After Climb, Lemon Tree, and Because of You, the Disney TV hostess stepped on stage. After a brief self-introduction, she pointed the mic at Ryan.
"Ryan, do you know how many people came today?"
"From what I see, close to twenty thousand, right?" Ryan pretended to squint into the distance, then shouted, "Is there at least ten thousand? Let me hear your voices!"
"YES!" The earth-shaking roar surged like a tornado.
"We all know you wrote all the lyrics and composed all the songs on this album. Have you always had this much inspiration?"
"That's hard to say. Actually, many songs were written bit by bit starting in early '90. They began as short fragments, which I gradually completed over time." Ryan scratched his head. Well, three of the songs really were like that.
"Now that the album has sold over two million copies, do you have anything you'd like to say?"
"Thanks for everyone's support. I'll work even harder in the future."
Most of the questions had been agreed upon beforehand. They weren't deep—more like a routine—but Ryan still shared some creative and recording experiences that the fans below found fascinating.
"Alright, last question." Hostess Susan winked at him. Ryan knew this would be the tricky one. "Ryan, you're already twelve years old—wow… and judging by your height, you're taller than me! I'd like to ask: have you thought about getting a girlfriend? Do you have any standards?"
No wonder people say everyone loves gossip—industry insiders are no exception! Ryan really wanted to roll his eyes at her, but since cameras were pointed at him, doing so would've been impolite.
"No!"
"Really?" the hostess pressed.
"My time and energy are limited. I haven't considered that sort of thing."
Many girls in the crowd let out a collective sigh—whether in relief or disappointment was unclear.
After the short interview came the autograph session. Ryan changed clothes in the lounge and sat behind the signing table. George and a burly staffer sat on either side of him to fend off any overly enthusiastic female fans who might try to storm the table.
"Hurry, hurry, Gwyneth." Drew ran toward the record store, but the line stretched as far as the eye could see. "Gwyneth, it's all your fault. Why didn't you drive faster?"
"Gwyneth" rolled her eyes. "Drew, you can't blame me. You drank so much last night you didn't even answer your phone this morning."
"Alright, alright." Drew's eyes darted around. Suddenly, she said, "Okay, let's not go into the store. How about we just queue up?"
"Queue up?" Gwyneth pointed at the endless line. "Are you crazy?"
"We'll cut the line. Relax—it's a piece of cake for me."
With that, Drew Barrymore walked to the record store entrance, selected a group of boys, took off her cap, let her golden hair down, and struck a seductive pose.
"Hey, handsome boys…"
"Ah…" The boys had been a bit impatient, but when they saw Drew, their eyes widened. "Miss Drew Barrymore?"
"That's me." Drew leaned in and whispered a few words to them—and successfully cut the line.
"Look, look! It's Drew Barrymore! She's in line!" A reporter immediately noticed the scene. "Follow her. There might be a good story."
To reporters, wherever this girl appeared, there was never a shortage of news. And even if there wasn't any, this fun-loving troublemaker would make some.
Ryan continued his usual autograph routine. After signing for a male fan, he looked up and twitched his lips at the sight of two familiar girls stepping up.
What's this? Drew Barrymore and Gwyneth Paltrow actually queued up for autographs? They were acquaintances—getting a signed CD should've been easy.
"Hi, Ryan, long time no see. Did you miss me?" Drew leaned in, winking flirtatiously.
Miss you, my foot! Ryan really wanted to say that, but with reporters around, he figured it was best to just get rid of her quickly.
"Alright. Drew, Gwyneth, if you have time, you can head to the lounge and chat with Nicole for a while."
"Nope." Drew shook her head and placed a CD on the table. "Ryan, if possible, please write: 'To the lovely Miss Drew Barrymore.'"
"Oh, and this one," she added, pulling out another CD, "is for Gwyneth. Just a simple signature is fine."
Ryan didn't have time to argue. He scribbled dramatically on both CDs, hoping to get rid of her fast.
But Drew wouldn't shut up. "Nice cursive, Ryan. Oh, and that script you were writing for me—how's that going?"
"Haven't started yet."
"Haven't started?" Drew widened her eyes. "Ryan, you owe me that! You can't go back on your word!"