Standing at the entrance of Yonghuo Street, hiding in the shadows of the buildings, Hugo looked back at the chaotic swarm of people—a mix of bees and ants—and could hardly believe he had just been in the very center of it.
In reality, the crowd wasn't as huge as it seemed—probably just over a hundred people. Around them, another scattered group of roughly a hundred spectators watched from a distance, which made the scene appear far more spectacular. But even with just over a hundred, Hugo and Joseph had been completely surrounded, struggling to stay upright.
Facing a hundred people alone, Hugo now truly understood how terrifying it could be. "A hundred," the number sounded small, but in real experience, if a hundred people lost control, it was absolutely overwhelming.
Three weeks ago, during the opening weekend of A Few Good Men , Hugo had been mobbed once. That time, it had been manageable, giving him a firsthand sense of his rising popularity. Today, three weeks later, he experienced another stampede in a short span—and this time, he truly understood what losing control meant. The film's handsome lead, Daniel Kaye, had overnight become a dream crush for countless fans. Add in the recent intense promotion that amplified Hugo's own image, and the result was a fan frenzy willing to go to extremes.
Fame seemed to arrive as suddenly as a summer downpour—one moment the sky was clear, and the next, a torrent of attention blocked out the sun. Hugo hadn't been prepared for such an explosive reaction. It was utterly unbelievable.
Yet, from this incredible madness, one could already see why The A Few Good Men had repeatedly broken box office records. An eight-week consecutive win was enough to make anyone take notice, and the chaos at Yonghuo Street was just a tiny taste of what was to come.
"Hey, what's happening over there?" A voice suddenly broke through the lingering tension, making Hugo and Joseph jump. They turned to see a curious customer from a nearby shop stepping out to investigate the commotion.
Joseph glanced at Hugo, then subtly stepped between him and the onlooker, blocking most of the view. Calmly, he said, "Oh, I heard a movie star is out. Something like… Hugo?"
"Hugo Lancaster? You don't know? The lead from the A Few Good Men! Wow, he's actually here! What's he doing here? I have to see him. He's so ridiculously handsome on the screen—I must see him in person!" The first customer said excitedly, talking to himself, and without waiting for Joseph to respond, he dashed toward the crowd. Soon, a group of curious onlookers followed in a wave.
Watching the group run off, Hugo and Joseph exchanged a glance, then burst out laughing. Realizing they couldn't reveal their location, they quickly covered their mouths and sprinted off Yonghuo Street. Only after putting a block of distance between themselves and the chaos and hailing a taxi did they finally release their hands and laugh heartily.
Tonight's experience had been astonishing. Even after living through it, Hugo felt as if it were a scene from a TV show or a movie. The twisted, screaming faces lingered in his mind—not real people, but abstract forms reminiscent of Edvard Munch's The Scream, which only made it more absurd.
"Sir, where are you heading?" The taxi driver interrupted their laughter after pulling out a block.
Joseph realized they hadn't given a destination. "Uh… the Four Seasons Hotel on Michigan Avenue." Then he laughed out loud again, perhaps more freely than he had in the past year.
Hugo struggled to stop laughing, his stomach stiff from it. Once he caught his breath, his mind began to turn again. "Joe, do you think they'll be upset that I didn't sign a single autograph for them?"
Joseph didn't seem to notice Hugo calling him "Joe" instead of "Joseph," which had become natural. Unconsciously, they had formed a friendship beyond the working relationship—a rare feat for two cautious, guarded men.
Joseph looked at Hugo's innocent concern and the serious expression in his brows, and couldn't help but chuckle. "Hugo, you know that's a really silly thought, right?"
Hugo didn't answer, his puzzled look speaking volumes. Joseph continued, "You can't satisfy everyone. If a thousand people want your autograph, you just can't do them all. Even on the red carpet, you can't meet every fan individually due to time constraints. You can only satisfy a small portion—that's the rule. It also keeps fans eager for the next encounter with their idol."
Hugo immediately realized he had been naïve. Back when he was in the Glory Or Death band, he had fans too, though not nearly as many. He could recognize almost every face, even if remembering names was tricky. He had enjoyed interacting with his fans—it was a good experience.
But now, the scale was entirely different. Trying to meet every fan's wish was impossible unless he gave up eating and sleeping entirely. And if all went well, the fanbase would only grow, making it even harder. With Joseph's reminder, Hugo understood how inexperienced he had been.
"And besides," Joseph added, pointing to Hugo's T-shirt, which had been stretched and torn in the chaos, "if you had tried signing autographs back there, I'd bet your clothes wouldn't have lasted long."
Hugo looked down at his T-shirt and frowned. "Ah, I really liked this shirt…" Suddenly, he remembered something and looked toward the back of the taxi—but clearly, they were no longer near Yonghuo Street. "What about dinner? What should we eat?"
"Pizza?" Joseph could only suggest helplessly.
Hugo smacked his forehead in frustration. He knew going back to Yonghuo Street would be completely impractical. "I was really looking forward to some Chinese cuisine," he muttered.
"You could order delivery," Joseph raised an eyebrow.
"Eating in a restaurant feels different," Hugo said with a frustrated wave of his hand. "Forget it… let's just have pizza." The long-awaited hometown meal had gone down the drain, and Hugo no longer had the energy to deal with takeout. It was a real disappointment. So this is what those celebrities mean when they say going out is such a hassle!
For the first time, Hugo truly experienced what it felt like to be a star. Many top celebrities find going out extremely difficult because they immediately become the center of attention, often attracting crowds and creating endless hassles. This intrusion into a star's private life—where personal time becomes something to be observed—is part of the price of fame. Hugo was gradually stepping onto that path, experiencing all aspects of a celebrity's life—both the good and the bad.
"Does this mean I'll never be able to go out in public again?" Hugo asked with concern.
Joseph snorted disdainfully. "Even Tom Cruise goes out without a hitch. You? Going out is absolutely no problem. Today on Yonghuo Street was just an accident."
Although Joseph's bluntness left no room for sentiment, making Hugo chuckle, he realized something: he was in America. The intensity of fandom in Asia and the West differed dramatically. The so-called fanaticism in Western countries, if transplanted to Asia, would barely make a ripple.
In Asia, a top celebrity going out could be completely surrounded, unable to do even ordinary shopping. Fans might camp outside their home day and night, intruding on their private lives—an almost routine occurrence.
In contrast, in the West, celebrities can usually walk the streets without any problem. At most, they attract extra attention. Especially in cities like Los Angeles or New York, where actors are everywhere, people remain composed when encountering a celebrity. True fan frenzy in the West usually occurs at premieres, red carpets, TV recordings, or concerts—basically, during professional appearances.
Of course, there are also extreme Western fans whose intensity can rival—or even surpass—Asian fan craziness. But in terms of sheer numbers, it's incomparable.
After Joseph's reminder, Hugo realized that today's chaos was indeed an exception. One reason was that A Few Good Men dominating December with unstoppable momentum. Another factor might have been Yonghuo Street itself, which, although located in Chinatown, contributed to the crowded scene—though many of the fans blocking them were white.
Back at the entrance of Yonghuo Street, after about fifteen minutes of scrambling, people finally realized the star had vanished. They had come to surround Hugo, but he was long gone. They wandered in circles like clowns, and once they realized this, reason returned. Many laughed at themselves and dispersed cheerfully.
Still, a small portion complained about Hugo's perceived rudeness—he hadn't signed autographs, hugged anyone, greeted them, or even said hello. He had fled as if coerced, which left them feeling slighted.
"He's not even fully famous yet, and he's already acting like a diva. Tsk, tsk…" Such remarks quietly began to circulate.
....
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