Chapter 14 The champagne tower at the victory celebration was once again...
When the champagne tower at the celebration banquet was once again filled, Kwon Ji-yong finally found an excuse to slip out onto the terrace for some fresh air. Celebration banquets have been held from last year to this year; he'd lost count of how many there were, and the reasons given were never the same.
In late March in Japan, the early cherry blossoms had already bloomed, their branches still slender, clusters of pale pink hanging in the chilly air; in fact, early spring was still quite cold. But he wasn't wearing a coat, only a thin shirt. The flashes from the parking lot downstairs were still going off; he didn't know if they were reporters or sasaengers, and he couldn't be bothered to tell. He simply lowered his head, lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and let the nicotine temporarily suppress the churning smell of alcohol in his stomach.
Inside the glass doors, laughter and clinking glasses filled the air. Tonight's celebration party was to mark their group's rise to new heights in Japan, and their individual popularity soaring. Company executives, producers, collaborating artists, and Japanese partners were all there. Everyone—acquaintances and strangers, people with whom they had some connection—smiled and exchanged pleasantries. But he knew how much of it was genuine, how much was just for show, and how much was simply waiting to see him fall from grace. His thoughts began to drift uncontrollably into the darkness.
Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He took it out and saw a message from Ren Xiyao: "Training's over, just got back to the dorm."
Kwon Ji-yong stared at the screen for two seconds, then suddenly wanted to hear her voice.
The call connected quickly, and in the background noise, you could hear rustling sounds on her end, like she was rummaging through something.
"Hello?" Her voice was a little breathless, probably because she had just finished exercising.
"Training ended so late?" He leaned against the railing, his cigarette ash scattered by the wind.
"I have physical therapy scheduled for tonight." She paused. "What about you? Aren't you at a celebration party?"
"I came out for some fresh air." He looked down at the traffic below. "It's too noisy."
"Oh," Ren Xiyao replied without asking any further questions.
After a two-second silence, Kwon Ji-yong suddenly asked, "Why did you go to that nightclub that day?"
"Rita's friend gave me an invitation to bring people along."
Ah. We went there right after our team's intra-team competition that day.
"You've never been to a place like this before, have you? You seem a little out of place."
"No, it's my first time there. Am I out of place? Rita and the others said that nothing I wear looks strange."
It wasn't her clothing. It was her entire aura—a pure, untainted quality, a kind of detachment from the mundane world. It was as if all the absurdity and hypocrisy around her couldn't hide from her. After a few seconds of silence, he suddenly asked, "Have you eaten?"
"I ate the kimchi from the cafeteria, the soup that looked like dishwater, and the meat patties without any meat."
"That's it? Even the athletes' cafeteria is this stingy."
"It's not that I'm prejudiced, it's just that what good food can you possibly have in the cafeteria?"
He chuckled softly, "I'll take you out for something nice another day."
"Let's talk about it when you're free," she said, her tone slightly teasing. "Big star."
That word made the smile on his lips fade slightly. A big star, yes, in everyone's eyes, he was G-Dragon, a top idol, a walking money-printing machine. But sometimes even he himself couldn't tell who the person standing under the spotlight was. He felt like he hadn't been himself for a long time.
"What's wrong?" She keenly noticed his silence.
"It's nothing." He stubbed out his cigarette. "It just suddenly occurred to me that you seem to have never seen me as a celebrity. You seem to have no concept of the word 'celebrity'."
The sound of Ren Xiyao unscrewing a water bottle came from the other end of the phone: "How should I view you?"
"Most people's attitudes change after they know who I am."
"So what do you want me to do?" She took a sip of water: "Bowing and greeting you when I see you? Or screaming for an autograph? Or being a timid, starry-eyed fangirl?"
He was amused by her: "No need for that."
“So,” her voice was calm, “so the first time I saw you was with Kwon Ji-yong. The first time I got to know you was also with Kwon Ji-yong. Even the most popular star and someone like me, who wanders the ice rinks, aren’t separate. Who isn’t someone who’s inside a shell?”
These words were like a tiny needle, gently pricking a hidden corner of his heart. Gazing at the bridge lights on an unknown bridge in the distance, he suddenly said, "Sometimes I feel that Kwon Ji-yong and G-Dragon are two different people."
There was silence for a few seconds on the other end of the phone.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
“The one standing on the stage is GD, and everyone loves him. But it’s like he’s locked in a glass house. But actually, I like it when a lot of people love me, and I enjoy being on stage.” He looked down at his hands, his nails not pretty because he often bit them due to anxiety: “But what’s breaking me is that when I’m quiet, I feel tired and often think about Kwon Ji-yong on the other side of the light… I don’t know who he is. And that causes me pain.”
Ren Xiyao didn't answer immediately. Her roommate's voice came from the background, vaguely asking who she was talking to on the phone. She mumbled "friend," then footsteps sounded, seemingly leading her into the hallway.
"Did you drink quite a bit?" she asked.
"a little."
"No wonder he suddenly said something like that."
He chuckled, "I'm not drunk."
"Drunk people always say they're not drunk."
"Really." He adjusted his posture and rubbed his temples. "It's just... a little tiring."
The moment he uttered those words, he felt a strange sense of relief. In front of everyone, Kwon Ji-yong always had to be at ease, always glamorous. But for some reason, in front of this short track speed skater who was thousands of miles away and whom he had never even seen in a concert, he suddenly didn't want to pretend anymore.
Ren Xiyao was silent for a while, then suddenly asked, "When was the last time you had a proper rest?"
"ah?"
"I asked, when was the last time you ate and slept on time, living like a normal person?"
He paused for a moment, then thought carefully: "...I don't remember."
“See?” Her voice was tinged with helplessness. “You can’t even tell if you’re hungry or tired, so how can you tell GD and Kwon Ji-yong apart?”
He opened his mouth, wanting to refute, but found himself unable to do so.
“A person is just a person,” she continued. “When you’re on stage, you’re a singer; when you’re off stage, you’re just a person. When you’re hungry, you need to eat; when you’re tired, you need to sleep. Whether you’re a singer or a star, it’s all just a title.”
The night wind chilled his arms, but her voice, coming through the phone, inexplicably made him feel at ease.
"And what about you?" he asked. "Are you the same person on the ice and off the ice?"
“Of course it’s different,” she said decisively. “During a competition, I only want to win. Sometimes I imagine myself on the ice as a hawk or a precise instrument. As a hawk, I seize the moment when others make a mistake to overtake them; as a precise instrument, I perfectly control every detail and don’t allow myself to make mistakes. But off the ice, there are many things I like to do. I always want to cultivate myself into someone as free as the wind.”
He laughed, remained silent for a moment, and then asked, "What is your goal?"
"My short-term goal is to join the national team next season and win the World Championships. My long-term goal is to win the Olympic gold medal in 2018."
"And what if these goals were achieved?"
"All-around champion, Golden Boot winner, 22-year Winter Olympic champion."
"What if you achieve all of that? If there are no goals ahead, will you feel lost?"
"It all started because I love skating. I just wanted to skate." Her tone became more relaxed: "Now that I've achieved everything, I'll just stick to skating."
"I saw on the short track forums that they called you 'Purple Star.' They're already hoping you can be as dominant as your captain in the 500m, as capable of competing with South Korea in the 1500m like another senior athlete, be a top favorite to win the 1000m, and become a pillar of the team in the 3000m. Does this pressure and expectation cause you pain? And I only recently learned that China has a state-run sports system."
"Do you think it's possible?" Ren Xiyao countered, sighing with a hint of melancholy. "Even a captain as strong as him, a truly groundbreaking athlete, can only dominate in the 500m and be absolutely competitive in the 1000m, becoming a pillar of the team. He has a chance in the 1500m, but it requires timing and teamwork. Those who have such expectations don't fundamentally understand short track speed skating. The focus of long-distance and short-distance skating is different. Even the all-around champion has strengths in long-distance and short-distance skating. Many athletes, after winning championships, especially Olympic gold medals, and gaining supporters, become increasingly cautious and less daring and adventurous than before. They have more ideas and are afraid of losing."
"Many people knew him when he was already an Olympic champion. They hoped he would always be a champion. If he lost a match, the media would constantly magnify his mistakes. But losing is normal; in competitive sports, there are no eternal winners."
"Accepting the inevitability of failure is a necessary step for every athlete. Winning and losing are so common for athletes, but the media amplifies them. This leads to anxiety and problems. Veteran athletes always tell younger athletes not to let gold medals bind them. Accepting all their achievements is the process of reconciling with themselves. In fact, when you start to feel lost, you're already standing on the edge of a cliff, one thought leading to heaven, the other to hell. But Mr. Kwon Ji-yong, rather than fulfilling everyone's expectations, it seems more important to ensure that on the day of his farewell, when all the lights go out, the person who walks out of the glass enclosure can still find their way home."
Ren Xiyao spoke slowly, word by word, saying a lot. She could sense his confusion and the great temptations surrounding him, but she still secretly hoped he could be alright. One thought leads to heaven, another to hell; don't make the wrong step.
The glass door was pushed open, and the manager's voice came through: "Jiyong, the CEO wants to see you."
He covered the mouthpiece and replied "right away," then said to the person on the other end of the line, "I have to go back."
"Um."
“Next time…” he paused, “Next time I’ll take you to eat Chinese food.”
“You’ve been talking about Chinese food since January and into March.” She couldn’t help but smile brightly: “Okay, as long as you’re not afraid of being photographed.”
"So what if you took the picture?" He didn't know why he said that: "Just say you're my friend."
"Friend?" Her voice was teasing. "You should call me Standard first."
"Ren Xiyao." He suddenly called her by her full name, "Satisfied?" This time, it was Ren Xiyao's turn to be stunned. There's no "r" sound in Korean, so it always sounded strange when people called her by her name. But this time, Kwon Ji-yong had no accent. It was standard Mandarin.
A hurried voice came from the other end of the phone. It must have been the selection supervisor she mentioned. She seemed flustered as she replied, "Okay," and then quickly added, "Alright, I'm hanging up now. Drink less."
Before the call ended, he heard her whisper, "...Take care and get some rest."
The screen went dark, and Kwon Ji-yong stood there, suddenly feeling that the night breeze wasn't so cold anymore. He could vaguely see the stars in the sky. Tomorrow should be a good day.
The clamor inside was still deafening; the champagne tower had been erected again, and everyone was waiting for him to return and play the perfect GD. But at this moment, he touched his hot phone in his pocket and, for the first time, felt as if he had found a small rock to stand on, a foothold on the edge of a cliff.
Even if it's just a small piece. Ren Xiyao's words seemed like those of a magical angel guiding all beings. But that girl from the vast distance only guided him.
A note from the author:
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