Although the passersby did not call out Hugo's name, at least they recognized him, knowing he was that handsome high school student from Scent of a Woman. It was just like "that boy who committed suicide in Dead Poets Society," a new label that replaced the Golden Raspberry Award's "Worst Actor" as Hugo's latest nickname — and that was certainly a big step forward.
The crowd came forward in turn to shake Hugo's hand and give him hugs. It stayed lively for quite a while before gradually dispersing. Hugo had not expected the situation to evolve like this in the end, and when faced with Charlize's slightly teasing expression, he could only smile helplessly — he still was not used to the fact that he had become a somewhat well-known actor.
"I really didn't expect your singing skills to be this good." Charlize's face carried a playful smile. She had known Hugo for over half a year now, yet had never realized he was such an outstanding singer. She had thought he was just joking earlier when he said he would sing live — never imagining it would turn into such a huge surprise, even moving her to tears. "Was that song you just sang your own creation?"
The corners of Hugo's lips curved into a warm arc. "Yes. Music is my hobby — you could say it's my hidden talent?" For the last word, "talent," Hugo deliberately raised his tone as if seeking Charlize's approval, successfully earning an eye-roll from her.
"If you want me to praise you, that's not difficult — you could just say so directly." Charlize mercilessly exposed Hugo's little ploy, making him chuckle.
"Hey, man." A rough voice, polite yet cautious, sounded nearby. Hugo and Charlize both looked over, and saw a tall, handsome man, six-foot-three (1.90 m). His long legs stood out especially under the sunset glow. Even with Hugo's six-foot height, he had to tilt his gaze slightly upward to see the man's face clearly. His well-proportioned frame carried a guitar on his back; the simple pairing of ripped jeans and a black T-shirt lent him a touch of carefree charm. Golden long hair and blue-green eyes glimmered with a romantic light, making him particularly striking.
"I'm Neil Anderson, a street performer." Neil took the initiative to introduce himself, pointing over his shoulder toward a spot about two hundred yards away, indicating that was where he performed. "I heard your singing just now, and I had to come express my respect — it was truly wonderful."
Neil spoke crisply, his manner confident and poised. Looking at the worn guitar in Hugo's hand, his expression revealed genuine excitement, and the smile at his lips was full of heartfelt emotion. Though they were strangers, Hugo could easily feel the sincerity coming from him. "Oh, thank you so much. I was actually worried no one would appreciate my performance, so your affirmation really means a lot to me."
Hugo wasn't just being polite; he was stating the truth. His words were genuine, making Neil smile. "Oh, right — I'm Hugo Lancaster, a temporary street performer for today."
"Yes, I just heard. They said you're an actor." Neil took Hugo's outstretched right hand and, instead of letting go, kept holding it as he continued, "I think you're a truly outstanding singer. You really should spend more time on music creation — countless people would go crazy for you." As he finished, he squeezed Hugo's hand to emphasize his point. "I'm serious." Only then did he let go.
"That might be the best thing I've heard today." Hugo's smile bloomed brilliantly. "Seeing your serious expression, I might mistake you for a music agent from some record company. Of course, if that were the case, all the better."
"Oh no, I'm just a music lover." Neil was amused by Hugo's remark. He glanced at Hugo's guitar. "Your guitar skills are really outstanding. Was that song you just played your own composition? I must say — jazz fused with pop? That's a crazy and brilliant idea." As fellow guitar players, the conversation naturally flowed into shared topics.
"And rhythm and blues," Hugo added, making Neil's expression shift into one of sudden realization. "Actually, today was my first time trying it. Normally, I prefer rock."
"Guns N' Roses or Nirvana?" That was Neil's first guess — the two best representatives of American rock after 1988.
Hugo shook his head and rattled off a list of names: "Happy Mondays, The Stone Roses, The Smiths." As Hugo spoke, Neil's expression gradually lit up with radiant excitement.
The bands Hugo named were all representatives of the British rock resurgence after the 1980s. Following the glory of groups like Queen, the Sex Pistols, and The Beatles, British rock had slumped somewhat in the early '80s, while American rock — led by Guns N' Roses and Nirvana — became the global mainstream. Yet no one could ignore the enduring power of British rock.
Neil had assumed Hugo, being a "native-born" American, would have a deeper attachment to American rock. But unexpectedly, Hugo shared his tastes, with an unshakable love for British rock. It was a delightful surprise.
"I can see why I feel such a strong resonance with your music." With a simple sentence, Neil conveyed his pleasure at finding a like-minded soul, making Hugo laugh heartily. "Although I'd love to keep talking with you about guitars and music, I'm really sorry — I've already made plans with friends tonight, so I have to go for now." The regret and reluctance on Neil's face were clear in those eyes.
Hugo also sighed lightly. Though they'd only exchanged a few words, the feeling of instant connection made him feel genuine regret. Finding someone who shared his musical passion was not easy. His first instinct was to pull out his phone to take down Neil's contact information — then he remembered this was 1992, an era before the internet boom, when cell phones were as heavy as bricks. How inconvenient.
"There will always be opportunities," Hugo quickly came to terms with it and said with a smile, "If we truly like the same music." Birds of a feather flock together — although this saying often carries a negative connotation, sometimes it is indeed true. As long as they had the same interests, there would always be chances to meet again in the world of music.
"I'll be waiting," Neil chuckled, then waved to Charlize and Hugo before striding away. From beginning to end, Neil had only greeted Charlize twice, his attention entirely focused on Hugo or rather, on the guitar in Hugo's hands.
Hugo looked at Charlize and teased with a smile, "I guess today's outfit didn't help at all." The unspoken meaning was that this beggar's disguise had hidden Charlize's beauty, so no one noticed her. "Or rather, your outfit was very successful today," since this was exactly the effect Charlize had wanted to achieve.
Charlize didn't respond to Hugo at all, clearly unconcerned with his words, leaving Hugo momentarily deflated. He could only awkwardly rub his nose. "How was my performance just now?" — that was the topic Charlize actually cared about.
Hugo stopped joking, put the guitar back in its case, the bills inside rustling, and said, "I think your eye contact still isn't good enough. Just now, a few of your emotional shifts were too deliberate."
In fact, the performance they had just done was entirely improvised by Hugo on the spot — full of loopholes. To keep the crowd from noticing those flaws, they had to rely on the performances of the two of them to hold the audience's attention. Once someone's mind started to wander, they would notice it was a scam or a staged act.
So Hugo and Charlize both sat down and began discussing the strengths and weaknesses of their performance. "What about me? Was I too exaggerated just now?" Hugo wasn't sure how well he had conveyed his emotions. Although judging from the audience's reaction they had succeeded, acting was always like this — constant study and reflection were necessary to improve. Complacency and pride would be of no help.
Thus, a curious scene appeared at the street corner: a handsome young man and a scruffy vagrant sitting face to face in deep discussion — indeed a sight to behold.
After the discussion ended, Hugo took the initiative, "Next, let's switch roles. You play the weaker party, I'll be the dominant villain — experience a different role." Charlize said nothing, just looked at Hugo seriously. "I walk by and injure you with a kick. You want me to call an ambulance, but not only do I refuse, I also hurl insults at you. Once the crowd gathers, you seek help from the police to suppress me, and I arrogantly resist everyone."
"What about the guitar?" Charlize asked.
Hugo paused for a moment. "Under police pressure, I reluctantly compromise, saying I'll perform a song to see how much money can be raised, and all the money goes to you." This twist seemed a bit clumsy, with obvious loopholes, but overall it was still workable.
Charlize, however, thought for a moment. "Actually, I'd prefer a stronger reversal — at first I'm the weaker one and you're the stronger one; once the crowd gathers, I gain the upper hand by relying on their support and turn around to extort you, making you the weaker one." This was what they called a reversal play.
"And then, at the very last moment, it's revealed that you were never injured at all," Hugo added with just one sentence, instantly making Charlize's eyes light up. This kind of melodramatic plot, full of flaws yet packed with reversals, might not stand up to scrutiny, but it was a serious test of on-the-spot acting ability. It was indeed a good idea for honing both of their performances.
....
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