Chapter 71 71. Can’t wait for you to become my brightest star
Unable to accept the rising fame of a new band they once looked down upon, and due to several conflicts, both large and small, several members of the Yantong band had bullied Lily Heart many times, both openly and covertly, especially Zhuang Yongyuan, the one they looked down upon the most.
Zhuang Yongyuan had always been a man of few words, at most putting on a sour face. This was his first direct resistance. The Smoke Boy singer's shock overwhelmed his anger, and his beard trembled. Unprepared, he couldn't dodge the sudden punch and took it hard. Just as he reacted and tried to fight back, Michelle struck him in the other cheek.
Ah Dian squeezed through the crowd of people watching and filming to get next to Zhuang Yongyuan, and excitedly asked him in his ear, "Can we finally fight back? Do you want me to call Qi Ji and the others to come over?"
She eagerly moved her wrists and tied her hair up.
Zhuang Yongyuan took a piece of paper from the table next to him and wiped the blood off his hands. This was the first time in his life that he had hit someone, and the pain in his finger bones was very unfamiliar.
He said to Dot, "Whatever you want, I'm going home."
The lead singer of Smoke Boy and Michel were still in a standoff. Although Michel was as thin as a piece of paper in order to look good on camera, he was of Central and European descent and had a bigger frame than Asians. He was not at all nervous when standing in front of the fitness-savvy lead singer of Smoke Boy. If there was no one holding them back, who knows what would have happened to the two men with red eyes.
Zhuang Yongyuan walked between them and said to the lead singer of Yan Tong, "The incident at the Pingnan Music Festival where you put leaves in my teammate's backpack hasn't gotten over yet."
"If you're a man, you should have some dignity. Fei Ye Zi doesn't acknowledge you, and you still have the nerve to throw it on my head?"
The lead singer of Yan Tong roared and tried hard to break free from the person who was holding him. Zhuang Yongyuan ignored him, left Mi Xiu and A Dian behind, and walked out of Mengtong under the gaze of countless eyes, and stood on the side of the road waiting for a car.
There was a lot of noise inside Mongols, but outside the door was the quiet winter night. The two-story brick buildings in the bushes were covered with creepers, and the neon signs were flashing quietly. People were sitting or squatting in groups of three or four, looking down at their phones, mostly smoking and not talking much.
A gust of cold wind blew off a performance poster taped to the door. Zhuang Yongyuan walked over and bent down to pick it up. The poster was slightly damp, and the damp ground also reflected the light of the Mengtong sign. Zhuang Yongyuan realized that it was drizzling.
Zhuang Yongyuan placed the poster on the ticket window. Next to it was a half-empty bottle of tea, which he used to hold down the poster to prevent it from being blown away by the wind.
A few people at the door recognized Zhuang Yongyuan and asked him shyly if they could take a photo with him. Zhuang Yongyuan agreed. He tried his best to smile at the camera. In the interval between taking photos with different people, he looked up at the sky.
There aren't usually many stars in the Shanghai sky, but today there's a very bright star hanging among the dark clouds.
After taking the photo, a taxi happened to pass by. Zhuang Yongyuan hurriedly walked over and stopped it. As soon as he got in the car, Michel rushed out from somewhere and squeezed in.
Zhuang Yongyuan glared at him and tried to kick him out of the car. Michelle drooped his brows and said aggrievedly, "I just helped you fight."
"I don't feel like…"
Mixiu interrupted him: "I just want to go to the movies with you, what else are you thinking about?"
Zhuang Yongyuan looked at him helplessly and was about to say something harsh when the driver urged, "Where are you going?"
He was too lazy to argue with Michel, so he sighed and told the driver his home address. As the taxi started, Michel took out his phone and checked the wound on his face in front of the selfie camera.
Zhuang Yongyuan took a look and saw that the wounds on his face were more than when he left. He probably fought with Yan Tong's lead singer a few more times inside.
He touched the back of Michel's hand and said, "Thank you."
Mixiu raised his face proudly: "I beat him like a pig's head. I get angry when I see people like this!"
Zhuang Yongyuan couldn't stand his strange Shanghainese accent and said, "Do you have to insert Shanghainese into your speech?"
"Dialects are very important! Please teach me to speak Minnan dialect."
Zhuang Yongyuan said stiffly, "I can't speak."
After a while, he muttered to himself again: "He doesn't seem to speak it either, but he can write Minnan dialect songs."
Mi Xiu didn't ask who Zhuang Yongyuan was referring to as "he". He confirmed with Zhuang Yongyuan: "Are you really not going to Pinky?"
"I'm very tired. If you want to go, I'll ask the driver to take you there. Master——"
"No, no." Mi Xiu patted Zhuang Yongyuan's shoulder: "I just want you to find a place to stay for the night."
"How do you know I'm so empty?"
Zhuang Yongyuan curled his lips and ignored Mi Xiu. Mi Xiu took out his phone and kept listening to and sending voice messages. His voice was sometimes shrill and sometimes clear, and he made the car very noisy.
Fine raindrops covered the car window, and the scene outside the window was blurry. Zhuang Yongyuan was in a trance and couldn't recognize where he was. He was not sure whether he was in Shanghai or Pingnan. He just stared at the flickering light and shadow on the street in a daze.
While waiting at a red light, the driver was watching a short video. A melody from "Ten Thousand Typhoons," often used as background music in short videos, started playing in the car. Michelle smiled and leaned over to ask the driver, "Master, do you think this song is good?"
Before the driver could speak, Zhuang Yongyuan said, "Master, don't pay attention to him. He's drunk."
Mi Xiu was upset by him. He glared at Zhuang Yongyuan and complained, "Why do you have to live in the university town? It's so far away and the house is shabby."
Zhuang Yongyuan leaned back lazily in his chair and said, "I'm used to living here. Moving is really troublesome."
"No matter how much money you make, it's all in vain." Mi Xiu rolled his eyes and counted on his fingers. If he had Zhuang Yongyuan's income, he would rent an old villa on Wukang Road, get up every day, pick up a cup of coffee, stand by the window and wave to the tourists taking pictures downstairs.
"Want to be an internet celebrity? Do you want me to introduce you to a PR company and fabricate some Italian identity for you?"
"Don't be an internet celebrity, be a great man. Isn't that what great men do, standing tall and waving to the people?"
Zhuang Yongyuan looked at Mi Xiu's charming features in the night and said, "That's not bad. You can't become a great man in your life anyway, so it's good to experience it."
"We're here." The driver stopped the car and pointed to the payment code on the passenger seat.
Zhuang Yongyuan paid the bill and walked with Michel downstairs to his apartment. There was an old-fashioned combination lock on the door, and before Zhuang Yongyuan pressed the code, he asked Michel to turn it.
Mixiu rolled his eyes and muttered, "I'm not going in there to steal your stuff."
Zhuang Yongyuan ignored him and entered the password, and the iron door sprang open. There was no elevator, so the two of them took the stairs to the fourth floor. Zhuang Yongyuan took out his key to open the door and pressed the switch. The bright light made Michel squint.
Mi Xiu looked around Zhuang Yongyuan's house. It was very clean. The aromatherapy diffuser had just been replaced and the liquid level was high. It didn't look like it had been vacant for several months. So he said sourly, "Who has lived here?"
"Cleaning."
Zhuang Yongyuan washed his hands, turned on the TV, and turned off the lights, and the room became dim again.
He sat on the sofa, pulled the ashtray in front of him, lit a cigarette, put it in his mouth, picked up the remote control, pressed a few buttons, and found a very old American TV series to watch.
The TV series opened with a scene of a sawmill, accompanied by slow, ethereal music. He and Michel were both staring at the TV, silent for a long time. Halfway through the show, Zhuang Yongyuan went to the refrigerator and brought over two cans of Kirin beer.
He pulled the ring of his beer, clinked glasses with Michel, licked the foam that had dripped onto the back of his hand, and suddenly shrugged his shoulders and started crying.
Mi Xiu patted him and continued watching TV. When the third episode started playing, Zhuang Yongyuan asked Mi Xiu in a hoarse voice, "If someone doesn't want you anymore, and you're still happy to see him, or... still like him, isn't that embarrassing?"
Michaux said, "You should talk about your own affairs. Why should you talk about me?"
Zhuang Yongyuan lowered his head: "I don't want this."
"Why not you?"
"I don't know either."
Mi Xiu asked Zhuang Yongyuan in disbelief: "You didn't ask?"
Zhuang Yongyuan buried his head in his knees: "I don't want to ask."
"Don't want to or don't dare?"
"Don't talk like that." Zhuang Yongyuan rubbed his head as if wiping away tears.
Mi Xiu blinked and continued watching TV. After a while, Zhuang Yongyuan spoke again: "I want to be like you."
"Who are we?"
"You...you and many people in pinky pinky."
Zhuang Yongyuan turned his head, half of his face facing Michel. He had a very upturned upper lip and a heavy shadow on his philtrum.
"You can spend the night with different people, live with them for a while, and then move on and it's like that, and you can just find someone else. I want to be like that, too. I..."
He choked up again. "It's hard and embarrassing to keep thinking about the same person."
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