I don't want to argue with you

The party venue was filled with celebrities, clinking glasses and chatting. At first glance, it seemed bustling with activity, but upon closer inspection, the boundaries were clearly defined.

Those in positions of power dress modestly and act with composure, whether at a banquet or at a seat, whether socializing with their peers or showing favor to those of different backgrounds, they remain unassuming.

Those in lower positions wear heavy makeup and attract attention, lingering on and off the stage, flamboyant, arrogant, and unique, every gesture and movement revealing a cunning design.

Jonathan came directly from Tang to attend the event. His appearance was not flashy, and even less extravagant than his silver supercar. However, as soon as he entered the public eye, he still caused a domino-like commotion.

The enthusiastic cheered, while the indifferent watched, each adhering to their own boundaries, as they crossed paths to greet each other.

Soon, a waiter stood behind Jonathan with his hands behind his back and a tray. In the past, Vasin would act as a shield on such occasions. The fierce-looking, rough man would stick behind the top star, and even if he didn't drink, no one would pay attention or investigate.

Today's party was very private, and guests and their entourages were not allowed to attend. Furthermore, Jonathan was still resentful about Vasin's remote help to Tang Fan, so he left the big mouth behind, claiming that there was not enough room in the sports car. This was the same big mouth that had caused him to return to Man early.

Being resentful can also have negative consequences. Right now, he's facing the adoration of everyone all by himself, and there's no escaping it.

Jonathan's captivating eyes were curved, his hands in his pockets, his gaze fixed intently on the newcomer's pupils. Every now and then, he would lean closer and make subtle physical contact with the fabric of his clothes, displaying an enthusiastic attitude that showed interest in everyone who appeared.

The other person was so focused on building goodwill that they didn't even notice that Jonah's hands were empty until they were deterred by the next figure.

"Janus, hey! You really should try this!"

Ryan popped up again, holding a glass of Moët & Chandon's new youth-oriented drink that was the main focus of this party. Before Jonathan could take it, he put his arm around Jonathan's shoulder and brought the glass to Jonathan's lips.

Standing opposite Jonathan right now is President Moody.

Previously, Jonathan had repeatedly expressed his disgust through his actions at Queer Navy and Diamond Ash. Tonight, Ryan dared to touch her inappropriately upon their first meeting, and now he's putting on this show in front of President Jonathan, revealing his ulterior motives.

It seems that while Jonah may not want the title of global brand ambassador, there are plenty of people who will stop at nothing to get it.

They were both child stars, so how could their character be so different?

If possible, Jonathan would rather give it to Kang Song-yoon if he doesn't mind.

“Mason, this is so dope, cheers!” Ryan seemed to be quite drunk, swaying as he raised his glass to the president. The glass he was holding in front of Jonathan spilled some wine, which landed right in Jonathan’s collar.

A**hole! (You stinky tapir!)

The flash went off at just the right moment, and Jonathan almost lost his temper, wanting to punch Ryan's tapir-like mouth on the spot.

Jonathan instinctively cooperated with the posed photos. When Mason toasted him, he ultimately couldn't bring himself to lash out in front of everyone.

“Yeah, why not? Cheers!” So ​​he took the glass, shook off Ryan’s clam-like hand in return, and drank it all in one gulp.

Jonathan tugged at his collar, using the excuse of dealing with the wine stains to say goodbye and move to the artists' dressing room.

Since he could remember, Jonah had suffered even greater embarrassment and injustice than before. After becoming a singer in Manr, he became even more adept at handling social situations, never revealing a trace of awkwardness.

Very few people know the full reason why he almost never drinks; they only believe his insistence that he "must cherish his wings."

Besides maintaining talent, there are other reasons.

On March 5th, when he was sixteen, he returned to the penthouse apartment that Tang Fan had bought for him after a high-profile and grand debut ceremony. When he saw his own face in the huge portrait on the living room wall, he suddenly felt like drinking.

So he drank the whole bottle of Ratahi 01 that was both his debut gift and birthday gift.

Getting drunk doesn't bring happiness, but rather a sense of being lost.

I feel helpless and want to cry.

The progressive sense of vulnerability gradually melts away the glamorous facade, stripping him bare from memory after memory, throwing him into the void, and turning him back into the disheveled child he once was.

Since then, he has almost never drunk alcohol again.

Besides that time at Jingting Wufang Sixiu, there's this latest one.

He clearly felt himself becoming transparent, like a light, empty container to be filled at will. His thinking seemed to be degenerating as well, and his pace quickened involuntarily. He didn't want to be filled and molded by the murky atmosphere here.

Fortunately, the guests were all inside, and Jonathan quickly found an empty room that was not occupied.

He closed the door, took out his phone, and turned on the screen. His vision was blurry; he couldn't see anything clearly. He raised his hand and rubbed his eyes haphazardly, then looked at his palm. He had no idea when he had started crying.

It's already past nine o'clock, why hasn't the phone been called yet?

He had an urge to exaggerate and complain to that blockhead, saying that he had been taken advantage of by a deep-voiced tapir, had been forced to drink alcohol, felt awkward being watched, and had no one to take him home, and, and, and...

Wood, wood, so can you come back to me sooner?

Hug me.

Although there was some exaggeration involved, it didn't stop Jonah from feeling more and more wronged and sad as he thought about it, and his vision blurred again.

The phone seemed to hear Xu Yuan's heartfelt wish and vibrated in his palm.

Jonah was so surprised he was almost dizzy. He leaned against the door, pressed his forehead against the wall, and used his chest to hold his elbow in place to stabilize his body and phone. He stretched his free hand out through the gap between his face and the wall, squinted one eye to focus, and pressed the answer button.

"Ginger~~~~~~~~"

Where are you? Are you busy?

"I'm working~~~So busy~~~~~"

"Then I'll call later."

"Busy thinking about you~~"

"..."

"Today... I'm wearing a V-neck under my coat..."

"Jonathan!"

Before he could even put his prepared complaint into practice, Jiang Songhe sternly interrupted him.

Jonathan didn't understand why he received this reaction. He opened his mouth, feeling even more aggrieved, but it got stuck in his throat, and he could only manage a soft "Hmm?"

Jiang Songhe paused for a few seconds, her voice softening slightly, but still revealing her inner conflict: "I have something to tell you."

Jonathan turned his head and pressed his ear closer to the receiver: "Tell me, I'm listening."

Several more seconds passed, and Jonathan had almost guessed what Jiang Songhe might want to say before the other person finally spoke: "Could you please tell Songyun not to look at his phone or go online recently?"

You guessed wrong.

Jonah chuckled softly, moved the phone from her ear to her face, quickly wiped her eye socket with the fleshy part of her hand, then rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, and asked the screen, "Is it because of the cyberbullying?"

"……Um."

Jonah remembered the comments Jiang Songyun showed him; they were nothing but sarcastic and cynical remarks. Moreover, the person who had been cyberbullied had already adjusted his mindset, so he really felt that Jiang Songhe's request was unnecessary.

She recalled how Jiang Songhe initially made a big deal out of Jiang Songyun's single sip of toffee milk wine, concluding that her younger brother might go astray and do drugs. Thinking that Jiang Songhe might be more tense due to pressure, she offered her own perspective as someone who had been through it all.

“This is something that’s unavoidable when you’re an entertainer.” Jonathan’s upper body was hunched over, and he was still dizzy from drinking. He had some difficulty adjusting his tone. “Besides, Song Yun isn’t as fragile as you think. He’s already eighteen years old.”

Jiang Songhe didn't appreciate it: "It's different."

"..." Jonathan choked for a moment, then laughed, "What's 'different'? Different from me?"

Jiang Songhe remained silent. Based on Jonah's past experience, when a wooden man doesn't speak, it means he agrees.

So where is the "difference"?

Different in vulnerability? Different innocence? Or... different in importance?

Although Jonathan knew he shouldn't compare himself to Jiang Songhe by blood, his resentment was still uncontrollably mixed with anger and jealousy. He thought pessimistically that the real him would never be anyone's first choice.

Vulnerability, grievances, sadness... none of it deserves to be seen.

Like the portrait in the apartment's living room, supposedly a birthday gift, it actually commemorates Janus, who was born on March 5th. Everything related to Jonathan should remain hidden in the shadows behind the portrait, best left unseen.

"You're going to cut off the internet and act like an ostrich just because you got scolded a few times?" Jonathan's voice was distorted and trembling. "Isn't your protectiveness a bit excessive?"

A low hiss came from the receiver, and Jiang Songhe then said, "How could Man'er's top idol understand the seriousness of public opinion in the porcelain country?"

Maner, the porcelain country.

Although Jiang Songhe's tone was indifferent and emotionless, one could still detect a sense of "you are you, and I am me."

"So that's where you're 'different' from me." Jonathan propped himself up against the wall, chin held high, standing ramrod straight. "Since you brought it up, I'll share some of my experience with you as a 'top influencer' in Maner. It's actually quite simple—"

He exhaled a bitter breath of alcohol: "If you're wrong, apologize; if you're not wrong, fight for your rights. Agent Jiang should understand that easily, right?"

Jiang Songhe sighed: "You don't understand..."

Jonathan tilted his head back: "How am I supposed to understand if you don't say anything?"

silence.

"never mind."

It's that "never mind" from Mom again. Wasn't her sarcastic tone quite effective just now?!

Her anger reached her central nervous system, and Jonathan interrupted relentlessly: "Isn't 'standing at attention when getting beaten' President Jiang's code of conduct? How come you 'let it go' when it comes to your precious little brother?"

"Tsk, can you stop?!" Jiang Songhe's voice suddenly rose, producing a muffled echo. In the background, the crackling sound of the turn signal could be heard, probably because he was so angry that he grabbed the steering wheel and switched to the rear control lever.

The sound wasn't from a Volvo, but from that Luman. It's... a little past four in the morning. Why is Jingting driving to work at this hour? Or... hasn't he even finished work and gone home yet?

Has something even more serious happened?

Feeling a pang in her heart, Jonathan's momentum weakened, but she didn't immediately let go of her pride. Her words were still barbed: "Jiang Songhe, you're asking me for help, aren't you? Asking a top star for help and you're still so stingy with your words, you won't even tell me what happened?"

"..." Jiang Songhe didn't know how to grasp the key point, "I don't want to argue with you."

The whirring stopped, the engine roared to life, and Jiang Songhe then said the closing remark: "It's late there too, go to sleep."

Log! Bastard! And... goldfish!!!

Sleep my ass! I already said I'm working!!!

"I don't want to argue with you!!!" He hung up the phone after saying that.

The alcohol fueled his anger, burning Jonah's already moist eyes.

He maintained the posture of supporting himself against the wall with one hand, lowered his head, and used the cold back of his hand holding the phone to cover his eyes to neutralize the heat and pain. Before long, his shoulders began to tremble uncontrollably.

The door to the lounge clicked open, and an even stronger smell of alcohol wafted in.

"There you are! Waiting for me?"

When Jonathan raised his head again, a captivating smile was on his face. He raised his elbows, his thenar eminences scooping from his eye sockets to the tips of his hair, his tongue brushing past his canine teeth, and his narrow eyes narrowed.

"Absof**king lutely. (Of course it is.)"