72: Chapter 72 Videotape [Thanks to Su Jingjing for the lovely comment]

September 5th, Microsoft Theater, Los Angeles.

The sky had not completely darkened yet, and the lights in the L.A. LIVE plaza were already shining.

The red carpet for the MTV Video Music Awards stretched from the theater entrance all the way to Figueroa Street, with reporters and fans crowding both sides.

The camera flashes were as dense as laser weapons hitting a metal curtain wall, and the VMA Moon Person statue shimmered in the center of the plaza.

When Chen Mo stepped out of the Mercedes-Benz CLA, the evening breeze of Los Angeles rushed over with a dry heat.

He walked over calmly, wearing a deep coffee-colored velvet suit, as if strolling through his own backyard.

In the fan zones on both sides of the red carpet, some people were holding up light boards—'Lawn Mower,' 'Chen Mo,' 'Closer.'

A black girl wearing glasses held up a hand-painted sign depicting two lawn mowers parked side by side.

Chen Mo walked up to her.

"Two?"

"You and Taylor." The girl's face flushed, but her voice didn't tremble. "I drew this the day you sang 'Closer' together at the Staples Center. Two lawn mowers, parked side by side, both crooked, because you both dance unprofessionally."

Chen Mo felt like he had been politely stabbed, but at least someone was keeping him company.

Chen Mo took the marker and drew a small sun between the two lawn mowers.

"Be your own sun."

The girl looked down at the sun, her eyes turning red.

The interior of the Microsoft Theater was smaller than the Staples Center, but the lighting tonight was wild.

Hanging in the very center of the stage was the iconic VMA Moon Person statue, silver, with one hand on its hip and the other holding a flag.

Chen Mo's seat was in the second row by the aisle, with Ed Sheeran on his left and The Weeknd on his right.

Ed wore a dark blue suit today, his red hair combed neater than usual, and he was cradling the Orange Cat in his arms.

The Orange Cat was wearing that custom little suit, with a silver bowtie to match the VMA Moon Person.

"How is it doing today?" Chen Mo patted the cat and then Ed on the head.

"Very well." Ed hoisted the cat up slightly. "Just now on the red carpet, it squinted at the cameras a few times. A BB photographer took a picture and said this might be the best red carpet photo of this year's VMAs."

The Weeknd turned from the side, wearing a deep red suit, his signature hairstyle perfectly groomed.

He took the box of mints out of his pocket, poured out two, ate one himself, and handed the other over.

Chen Mo took it and put it in his mouth.

From the Grammy Awards to here, the flavor hadn't changed; it was clear he really liked eating mints.

"How many nominations do you have today?" The Weeknd asked.

"Three: Best New Artist, Best Pop Video, and Best Cinematography."

"I have two: Best Male Video and Best Hip-Hop Video." The Weeknd moved the mint to the other side of his cheek. "Wip is also nominated for Best New Artist for 'Trap Queen.' That guy..."

Chen Mo nodded. "I know."

Wip was a rapper from New Jersey. Last winter, he brought 'Trap Queen' from the underground into the mainstream, peaking at number two on the Billboard charts and staying in the Hot 100 top ten for over twenty weeks.

His melodic style was completely different from traditional rap; he sang it, blending the rhythm of trap music with pop melodies.

Media predictions for the Best New Artist competition were between Chen Mo and him.

Ed's 'Thinking Out Loud' was nominated for Best Male Video and Video of the Year.

Taylor's 'Bad Blood' was nominated for nine awards, making it the biggest favorite tonight.

Miley walked out from behind the Moon Person statue wearing a silver sequined bodysuit, her hair tied into two buns.

Her opening was very short: "Welcome to the VMAs. Let's get weird."

The music exploded, and the stage lights all turned pink.

The award for Best Hip-Hop Video went to Nicki's 'Anaconda,' and Best Male Video was taken by Mark and Bruno's 'Uptown Funk.'

Best Female Video went to Taylor's 'Blank Space.'

When she went on stage to accept the award, her short blonde hair was tucked behind her ears, and the two pearl earrings on her ears swayed in the light.

She thanked her team and fans, then let her gaze fall toward the second row.

"There is one more person. He let me know how bright C Major can be."

The whole audience looked toward the second row.

Ed turned his head, his voice very soft, and pouted. "She's talking about you."

Chen Mo pursed his lips, pretending to have no reaction, and said, "I know."

"Ugh~"

Best New Artist.

The presenter, Su Jingjing, was a Hollywood actor who had become famous in the last two years. He was a big deal; not only was his acting good, but his martial arts scenes were at the level of Jackie Chan.

Although not on the level of The Rock, Jackie Chan, or Scarlett, he had his own lane, and even his contemporary Andrew couldn't compare.

He opened the envelope, took a look against the light, then leaned into the microphone: "And the MTV Video Music Award for Best New Artist goes to—"

(The MTV Video Music Award for Best New Artist goes to—)

Four faces appeared on the big screen simultaneously: Wip, Chen Mo, and the other two nominees.

The camera cut to Wip. He was sitting in the third row, wearing a white hoodie, his cap pulled very low, with a flat expression on his face.

The camera cut to Chen Mo. His expression was also flat, because the mint was slowly dissolving in his mouth.

"—Chen Mo!"

Applause surged like a tide. Chen Mo didn't stand up immediately.

He sat there, waited for a second, and then stood up.

This was his personal habit; standing too early was prone to embarrassment, and standing too late looked silly.

Ed reached out, and the two high-fived.

The Orange Cat was startled awake by the sound of the high-five and let out a dissatisfied meow.

The Weeknd turned to the side, lightly tapped the box of mints against the back of his hand, and said, "CHEERS!"

Chen Mo walked onto the stage and took the Moon Person trophy.

It was silver, one hand on its hip, the other holding a flag; it was lighter than he had imagined.

He stood in front of the microphone, the spotlight enveloping him in a white circle of light.

Thousands of eyes in the audience watched him, and MTV cameras were broadcasting this moment to the whole world.

He looked down at the Moon Person in his hand, then looked up.

"Everyone knows my new album has been a great success, especially the lead single 'Closer.' Actually, when I wrote it, I didn't think it would be so impressive and that the whole world would remember it."

Chen Mo began to thank everyone who participated in the production, and then he didn't know what else to say.

"Finally, there is one more person I want to thank: my muse."

The whole audience looked toward Taylor again.

"Lastly, I want to say that hesitation is not weakness; hesitation is because you care."

Ed was the first to stand up. The Orange Cat was held in his hands, its paws resting on his shoulder, pretending it was also applauding.

The Weeknd stood up, Taylor stood up.

Wip also stood up, his white hoodie cap still pulled low, but his hands were clapping.

Best Pop Video.

The presenter opened the envelope, and the list of nominees began to scroll on the big screen.

When the MV clip for 'Closer' was shown, people in the audience had already started applauding—the Joshua Tree desert, the orange-red sky, two people standing face to face, with one arm's length between them.

The presenter leaned into the microphone: "And the MTV Video Music Award for Best Pop Video goes to—'Closer,' Chen Mo!"

(The MTV Video Music Award for Best Pop Video goes to—'Closer,' Chen Mo!)

Chen Mo walked onto the stage for the second time.

Holding the Moon Person trophy, a silver chill traveled up from his palm.

He stood in front of the microphone.

"When this MV was shot, Diego waited a long time for the wind in the desert. The wind at Joshua Tree is unpredictable; when it comes, the sand stings your legs. He waited for a long time, waited for the wind to come, and waited until I found my best state."

Chen Mo raised the trophy and said, "This award goes to Diego, and to everyone who waits for the wind."

The audience stood up again.

Diego sat in the back row of the audience, his scruffy face frozen in expression. He took off his glasses and wiped them with his sleeve.

The lights dimmed, and the LED screens on both sides of the stage lit up simultaneously, projecting the desert of Joshua Tree National Park onto the entire background wall.

Ochre sand, orange-red sky, and the silhouettes of cacti in the distance.

There was no piano in the center of the stage, only a stretch of sand-colored floor illuminated by warm lights, with two parallel footprints imprinted on it.

Chen Mo walked out from the side stage, not wearing a jacket, the collar unbuttoned by two buttons, sleeves rolled up to his forearms.

He walked to the middle of the two footprints and stood still.

He raised his right hand, fingers hovering at chest height, exactly the same as that movement in the MV.

The prelude began from the floor screen beneath his feet, and the C Major chords turned into a wave of sound that lit up simultaneously from all directions of the stage.

Diego and the VMA sound team had broken down the accompaniment of 'Closer' into dozens of independent audio tracks, dispersed into speakers in every corner of the venue.

The piano's high notes came from the left, the strings surged from the right, the bass rose from the ground, and the drum beats pressed down from the dome.

The entire Microsoft Theater had been transformed into a giant musical instrument, and Chen Mo stood at its heart.

He raised his right hand, his hand hovering at chest height, exactly the same as that movement in the MV.

The microphone was ear-mounted, leaving his hands completely free.

Singing the first line of the chorus, "We ain't ever getting older"

The desert projection on the background wall began to change.

The silhouette of the Joshua Tree began to recede, the camera zoomed out, revealing the full view of the desert, two figures standing on the sand, an arm's length apart.

In the second verse, he continued to walk.

The LED screens on both sides of the stage lit up with more footage—the unused shots Diego brought back from Joshua Tree.

"I would walk thousands of miles just to—"

He paused for a beat.

"—stay where you are."

The two shadows were stretched long by the starlight, overlapping on the ground.

Chen Mo stood on the stage, his chest heaving slightly.

In the backstage hallway, Taylor leaned against the wall, her silver sequined skirt reflecting the light, holding the Best Female Video Moon Person in her hand.

Seeing him come out, she switched the trophy to her left hand, reached out her right hand, and said, "You turned the entire venue into a musical instrument."

Chen Mo took her hand, then pulled her into an embrace and said, "Diego moved the desert here."

"What were you thinking about when we shot the MV?"

"Nothing at all."

Taylor smiled asymmetrically and said, "That's right."

If anyone else smirked, Chen Mo would want to punch them, but Taylor looked very good doing it.

In the backstage lounge, Wip sat on a corner sofa, his white hoodie cap still on, a glass of whiskey without ice in front of him.

Seeing Chen Mo walk over, he stood up.

"Congratulations. Your stage turned the VMAs into your recording studio."

"I've heard 'Trap Queen.' You've shattered the ceiling of trap music."

Wip's eyes brightened under the brim of his cap. He was silent for a moment, then said, "The drum beats in 'Closer'—the kick drum on the off-beat, the snare on the on-beat. You arranged the drum kit like a conversation."

He held out his hand for a fist bump.

"If there's a chance, you write the drum beats, and I'll write the melody."

That night, on Twitter trends, 'Chen Mo VMA Best New Artist' surged to number one globally, and 'Chen Mo Best Pop Video' was second.

Three days later, Lu Han's new song 'That's Interesting' went online on QQ Music.

Chen Mo clicked the link in the recording studio.

Trap drum beats, future bass backing—Lu Han's voice was much steadier than before, deeper, more relaxed, like someone who had finally found their own way of speaking.

After listening, he commented under Lu Han's Weibo post: "The chorus is good."

Needless to say, the carnival of netizens and fans was simply a 'double-fan' delight.

In September, the night breeze in Los Angeles began to get chilly.