Green-eyed bullfrog with a dog-like waist

Bang! The champagne was popped as a signal, and the lights in the main hall suddenly dimmed.

Jiang Songhe was bumped from behind and nearly fell off the stage. He glared at the clumsy person in the dark, and in the center of his vision, a palm-sized fluorescent circle rose and fell, vaguely reflecting a human silhouette on the same plane. He stretched out his arm and twisted it on the square table surface.

A piercing laser sound effect traveled from the right ear to the left, and a beam of light flashed synchronously across the electronic screen behind the catwalk.

Chirp—

Another one appeared, this time passing through the side of the screen and disappearing from the side of the altar.

Jiang Songhe then realized that the clumsy guy was a DJ who had rushed onto the stage. He was shaking his head and staring at the turntable, covering one earphone with one hand and raising and lowering the other hand in a mysterious manner.

Chirp, chirp, chirp chirp—

The increasingly dense rays left their mark as the Mars ignited and melted the surging satin on the screen, gradually revealing the diamond-encrusted words "NOW U FOUND LOVE".

The DJ raises his palm, shakes his fingers as if performing a ritual, and suddenly presses down at the highest decibel level of the sound effect, while yelling at the top of his lungs.

"Gentlemen and gentlemen, let's get the party started——"

(Gentlemen, gentlemen, let us begin the revelry—)

Guests outside the runway responded enthusiastically, giving hands to the models who broke formation and scattered, dismantling the barriers separating the runway from the human wall.

As the frenzied drumbeats roared, Jiang Songhe felt a gust of wind sweep past him. In his peripheral vision, swathes of glossy, fleshy flesh rushed onto the stage, circled around from behind to in front of him, and began a chaotic dance.

Jiang Songhe recalled the event schedule that the show director had given him: after the show, there would be an afterparty where models could stay on the first floor to attend the party or go upstairs to change clothes and leave first.

He quickly glanced towards the microphone stand on the side of the stage, but didn't see any familiar figures. Seeing more and more people pouring into the main hall from the side hall, he didn't hesitate and chose to leave first.

The surging crowd seemed to be deliberately opposing Jiang Songhe. No matter which way he went, there were always people blocking his way, and they were getting closer and closer.

He was already incredibly annoyed, so he raised his arm to maintain distance, but his bare toes were still stepped on several times, causing him to break out in a cold sweat from the pain. He gritted his teeth, wanting to punch the person.

The crescent-shaped decoration on the side of her head was suddenly tugged, causing the eye mask to droop askew, revealing a furious eye.

"Do I owe it or not?" Jiang Songhe thought bitterly. She turned to the side, used one arm to cut through the crowd, raised her other arm and went behind her head, pulled off the bow, and ignored the stinging pain of the hair clip tearing off her hair, and took off the headdress completely.

I was going to take off the layers of pearl necklaces, but then I realized that taking them off would mean standing shirtless in public, so I gave up on the idea.

"Janus! Janus! Janus!" A unified cheer suddenly erupted from the direction of the catwalk.

Jiang Songhe was just a few steps away from squeezing into the side door when most of the surrounding crowd was instantly drawn away by the commotion. A short man who was openly harassing him, before Jiang Songhe could shoo him away with a cold voice, peeked behind him, immediately abandoned his harassment, and headed towards the source of the noise.

He took a few steps forward barefoot, then stopped abruptly, his toes hesitantly turning around.

A chair, shaped like a T with three heads and six corners, had been placed directly in front of the DJ booth, and was occupied by male models dancing provocatively.

At the intersection of the horizontal and vertical lines, another green-eyed, big-chested man folded his frog-like, well-developed lower body, reached into the crowd, and smoothly scooped the top singer onto the stage, easily placing him on a chair.

Jiang Songhe lowered his eyes and glanced at both sides of the stage. The top star's bodyguard and assistant was rooted to the spot, standing upside down in the shadows on the side of the stage, watching his artist being manipulated as if nothing had happened, as if it were nothing new.

The green-eyed bullfrog braced himself on the chair back and seat cushion with both hands, locking the top star in an ambiguous space, and alternately pulled his body back with his legs. Then, supporting himself on one leg, he thrust his hips forward, making scorpion-tail movements towards the top star from a distance.

The top star seemed to be enjoying himself, resting his elbow on the back of the chair, his chin bobbing up and down in a cooperative manner, but then tilting his head back to avoid getting too close.

Taking advantage of the change in the background music, the green-eyed bullfrog stood up and circled the chair with a cat-like gait. The top star followed with great interest, one leg about to be lifted and placed on the other, when his ankle was supported by a frog webbed foot, as if he was about to lift it onto the lowered double door.

The top star smiled, leaned forward, pulled his ankle back, and crossed his legs again, simultaneously pulling the double doors in front of him. His free hand gripped his square jaw, and his lower leg swung from side to side, spreading his knees, which were supporting him on the ground, even wider.

Then, slowly, he bent down...

With a snap, my vision was assaulted by a burst of white light.

Jiang Songhe reflexively frowned and squinted. By the time her vision returned, the male models on stage had finished their performance and were standing in a row. The top star also got up from his chair, raised his hand to lift up the large, double-breasted man on the ground, and bumped shoulders with him in a very street-style manner.

Then, facing the audience, he flicked the air a few times from bottom to top, energizing the enthusiastic crowd to applaud and cheer for the male models.

Jiang Songhe withdrew her gaze, her eyes darkening as she looked at the person not far in front of her. Seeing that the other person was a fashion show photographer with a DSLR camera and a name tag, she walked over, suppressing her anger, and said coldly, "The show is over. Please delete it."

“There’s nothing I can do about it. The show is over, but my work isn’t.” The photographer slung his DSLR over his shoulder, completely unmoved by Jiang Songhe’s words. “Aren’t you still wearing the show outfit? You’re still on the runway, so I have an obligation to record the behind-the-scenes moments.”

After saying that, the hand on his shoulder hooked his index finger and pressed the shutter button for a long time. The flash launched a magical attack, snapping several more photos of his face blindly.

Jiang Songhe chuckled silently, nodded with her cheeks twitching, turned around and walked away in the opposite direction.

I hadn't walked two steps when I felt increasingly angry, so angry that I desperately needed a cigarette to calm myself down. My hand instinctively reached into my pocket—tsk, the cigarettes were in the car, and dressed like this, there was no way I could go out and get them.

Just then, a wisp of secondhand smoke entered his nostril. Jiang Songhe looked around and saw a man with a cigarette between his teeth walk past him, go straight to the bar in the corner of the main hall, light up the bar wall lights with the cigarette between his teeth, and then roll up his sleeves and pull out a wet wipe from behind the table to wipe his hands.

Right now, his anger was matched by his craving for cigarettes. Jiang Songhe was a little obsessed. He took three steps at a time, pulled out a stool and sat down. He pursed his lips and thought for a while. He felt it would be too rash to ask a stranger for a cigarette directly, so he said indirectly, "I'm buying a drink. Can I borrow a cigarette from you?"

The man exhaled a smoke ring, leaned against the bar, glanced at Jiang Songhe's attire, and smiled: "Drinks are free tonight, no need to buy any."

"Never mind then." Jiang Songhe stood up, intending to give up.

A box of Marlboro Double Burst was handed over. The man peeled off the cap and grinned even wider: "It's my first day working at DES, how about I try a cup?"

Jiang Songhe sat down again, took out a cigarette from the pack, took a couple of puffs on the butt, leaned over to borrow the man's lighter to light it, and exhaled the cool blueberry smoke straight out of his lungs, his emotions much calmer: "Thanks."

The man left his Marlboro cigarettes and lighter on the bar and swiped a drinks menu over: "What would you like to drink?"

Jiang Songhe glanced at it, and from the many unserious names, he barely managed to pick out a relatively serious one, pointing and saying, "'Silent Night'."

Upon hearing this, the man raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips, giving off an expression that said, "I respect you as a man." Without saying anything more, he pulled out a coaster, pressed it onto the table, placed a transparent empty cup on it, and began to operate it with both hands.

When the stout and draft beer were poured into the glass, Jiang Songhe didn't think much of it. The Cointreau and Sanozzo came out in double lines, which he thought was normal. Common bases like Black Label, Bacardi Bombay Sapphire, and others followed one after another. He reminded himself to call a designated driver later...

Once the cup was filled with the water of life, Jiang Songhe extinguished her cigarette, paused, and asked the man, "Can I have another one?"

"Sure, why not?" The man was probably a heavy smoker too. He handed over half a pack, and there was another pack in his pocket. He quickly tore it open, grabbed the blowtorch, lit one for himself, and then aimed the flame at the rim of the glass. Blue flames burst onto the surface of the liquor.

"Hiss, whew—" The man pushed the cup and cigarette case to Jiang Songhe together, sharing them generously, "You finish this cup, and I'll give you this bag."

"No need." Jiang Songhe stared at the wine glass emitting blue flames, feeling that the craving for cigarettes would pass in an instant.

...

The bar lights came on, quickly attracting a crowd from the dance floor. Jiang Songhe coldly chased away several people who tried to flirt with her, and after being groped on the lower back, she finally couldn't take it anymore and stood up from her stool.

I only drank half of that "Lonely Night" drink; no matter how good or bad it was, it felt like a waste.

So Jiang Songhe opened the Marlboro cigarette pack that she hadn't smoked many times, tore off the foil, borrowed another pen from the man, wrote "ACCRO" and the character "Jiang", returned it and thanked him again, and told the man, "If you want to change jobs someday, you can try your friend's bar."

Even half a glass of strong liquor shouldn't be underestimated.

As Jiang Songhe picked up her hair accessory and headed back towards the second floor, her steps became a little unsteady. Out of the corner of her eye, she couldn't see whether someone was still indulging in the hushed crowd below the stage or the fiery figures on the stage.

"What's it to me?" Jiang Songhe said aloud, smoothing her hair and ruining her mismatched hairstyle to block out the blatant stares.

A safety barrier was installed at the stairwell, with a sign that read "No entry for non-staff members." Jiang Songhe strode over it and climbed the stairs to the second floor, out of sight of the outside world.

Amidst the bustling staff, Jiang Songhe found a stylist assistant named "Maizi," asked for a locker tag, retrieved a suit and leather shoes, and returned to the mobile tent in the fitting room to change.

Jiang Songhe unzipped his pants halfway, touched the silver trim on his waist, clicked his tongue, took out his phone, opened WeChat, and transferred 500 yuan to Wu Fangsi without adding any transfer instructions.

Clang.

Wu Fangsi, who had drunk quite a bit of champagne, had just witnessed in the main hall downstairs that her stylist and college classmate, Yuan Xiao, whom she remembered as having an extremely upright and honest personality, confessed her feelings to Yu Zhen, a "black cab driver" who had turned her gay, by singing "Perfect" on stage.

Suddenly, I felt a vibration in my pocket. I took out my phone, unlocked it, squinted at the screen, raised an eyebrow, then locked the phone and put it back.

"Are you out of your mind?"