"Supernova causing trouble, acting arrogant, and attacking a random passerby?"
The latest issue of *Entertainment Weekly* featured an astonishing new face on its cover:
Anson Wood.
But, of course, with negative news attached—
Once again proving Hollywood's age-old rule: the more famous you get, the more scandals follow.
On the cover, Anson is depicted with rolled-up sleeves, fury on his face as he roars at a poor driver who's cowering and scrambling to roll up his window, seemingly fearing for his life.
You have to admit, the angle and composition of this photo are quite artistic, resembling something out of an African wildlife documentary:
Anson is the lion, and the driver is the terrified tourist.
See? It's obvious who's the civilized human and who's the wild animal. The photo subtly implies that the innocent driver was minding his business when suddenly, a thoughtless, irrational "animal" viciously attacked him. The stance is clear: this single photo communicates more than words, shaping the reader's perception right away. A few more words of guidance, and the message sinks in.
This is the power of media manipulation.
In the past few months, following the success of *The Princess Diaries*, appearances at Paris Fashion Week, and a feature in *Vogue*, Anson had burst into the public eye with a string of positive exposure, significantly boosting his recognition and influence. So, with *Entertainment Weekly's* scoop, it was easy to draw everyone's attention.
The buzz was huge.
However, the man at the center of the storm remained remarkably calm.
Wearing sunglasses, carrying a luggage bag, and walking with a spring in his step, Anson breezed through his front door. Having just left the freezing East Coast behind, he now stepped into the warm California sunshine, feeling instantly relaxed. Despite his ongoing busy schedule, there was an easy vacation-like vibe, and all the chaos was already behind him.
The *Catch Me If You Can* shoot in New York had wrapped up, and the crew was moving to Los Angeles. There wasn't much downtime—just a half-day to adjust before the next shoot in the afternoon.
Anson was home simply to drop off his luggage and unwind for a couple of hours before heading to the set.
As soon as he opened the door, he was surprised to find Chris Evans and Brad Renfro standing in the living room, deep in conversation, both looking a bit grim.
"Hey," Anson greeted, a little surprised. "What are you guys doing here? Running lines?"
Over the past year, with everyone getting busier, the days of lounging around under the same roof, drinking and chatting, had become rarer.
But that was a good thing.
Chris, mid-sentence, stopped talking and looked at Anson, momentarily at a loss for words.
Anson raised his hand in a gesture, "Go ahead, keep talking."
He was about to head upstairs when Chris stopped him, "Why are you acting like nothing's wrong?"
Anson: Why wouldn't I act like this?
Brad shot a helpless glance at Chris's incomplete sentence. "What he means is, aren't you worried about the *Entertainment Weekly* report?"
Chris nodded quickly, "Yeah, the media's spouting nonsense again."
Anson chuckled lightly, "Didn't you guys see the photo? It's undeniable evidence."
Chris threw his hands up. "Come on, Anson. Anyone who knows you even a little would understand that you're not the type to provoke people or bully the weak."
Brad smirked, making a joke with his usual laid-back demeanor, "With those soft punches of yours, you're hardly a threat."
There was no interrogation, no prying—just unconditional trust, with both of them standing firmly on Anson's side.
Anson felt a warmth in his heart. "It was just a road-rage driver. I was helping an elderly lady. Don't worry, it's nothing serious."
In just a few words, he dismissed the whole affair as casually as if he were yawning.
But Chris still looked worried.
Brad, however, didn't seem to show much of a reaction. Still in his usual half-asleep state, he glanced up and down at Anson lazily, "You sure? We all know how Hollywood works. Even the simplest things can get blown out of proportion by the media."
Chris nodded vigorously in agreement.
How could Anson explain the complex details of the situation to Chris and Brad?
After thinking for a moment, Anson motioned toward the door behind him. "Did you notice any paparazzi outside? There's no need to worry. Edgar's already handling it."
Chris paused, "Yeah, come to think of it, there aren't any paparazzi out there."
He turned to Brad, who blinked his eyes a little wider. "Looks like it's not as serious as we thought. We don't need to worry about you after all."
Anson wasn't lying.
Let's rewind the clock a bit.
While Anson was shooting *Catch Me If You Can* in New York, paparazzi had been trailing him intermittently, trying to get a scoop on his first collaboration with Steven.
At this point, street shots of the cast weren't worth much. What the paparazzi really wanted was a shot of Anson, Steven, and Tom together. But with Tom yet to show up on set, their photos were just sitting unsold, and no magazine was interested in publishing them.
Then the paparazzi caught that infamous moment.
Though its value was… pretty limited.
Anson's biggest curiosity now was: did the paparazzi not capture the part where he punched that big guy?
---
If possible, Anson would like to see those photos. He has been worried about that boy and his mother, always hoping to confirm their safety. The street where the incident happened was relatively secluded, with no surveillance cameras, so Anson has never been able to find them. It seemed as though the boy just disappeared.
Additionally, compared to the altercation with the driver, the photos of Anson beating up the burly man were much more intense—it was full-on, with punches landing hard.
Strangely enough, no paparazzi caught it.
It's likely that Anson was sprinting so fast that the paparazzi couldn't keep up and missed the real action, only capturing the aftermath.
Unfortunately, this significantly reduced the news value.
So, the paparazzi thought about maximizing profit and separately sent the edited photos to Edgar and Steven, offering to do the crew a favor—
The subtext being: doing them a favor in exchange for something else; or swapping the photos for other pictures or news. As long as the paparazzi could get more valuable material, these photos could be written off.
Blackmail?
No need to make it sound that harsh; let's call it a mutually beneficial collaboration.
What they didn't expect was how Edgar handled things swiftly and decisively.
On one hand, Edgar contacted Steven directly to discuss how to resolve the matter.
On the other hand, Edgar gathered information, piecing together the full picture.
Naturally, the first thing Edgar did was contact Anson. After understanding the whole story, not only did he immediately reach out to the staff who were present, but he also contacted the elderly lady right away.
Edgar wasn't done yet. He then reached out to Eve, asking her to work with the NYPD to obtain traffic footage from the main street. Not only did they get the entire video recording of the event, but they also contacted drivers who had been stuck in traffic behind the scene, gathering both witnesses and evidence to firmly establish the truth.
And then.
That night, Edgar and Steven had a discussion and came to a consensus. They both believed it was better to manage the situation proactively—
These kinds of incidents usually don't happen just once, especially with Anson's career rapidly rising. Similar situations are bound to happen more frequently in the future.
Rather than treating negative news like a disaster, they decided to take a proactive approach by using this relatively minor "negative news" as a breakthrough to show Anson's PR team's strength and send a signal to the paparazzi: Anson is definitely not an easy target.
At the same time, they could use this opportunity to kick off the first wave of promotion for "Catch Me If You Can."
Edgar and Steven hit it off immediately. After thorough discussions with Eve and crafting a well-thought-out plan, they dropped the bomb.
They didn't even respond to the paparazzi, leaving them hanging.
The paparazzo waited and waited but got no answer. Then they tried reaching out directly to Anson, but still, no response—it was like dropping a stone into the sea. This made the paparazzo start questioning everything:
Did I send it to the wrong number?
After repeatedly confirming that they hadn't made a mistake, the paparazzo finally realized they were being ignored.