Chapter 59
On the day of his debut press conference, the venue was packed with enthusiastic media and fans. Flashes of light flashed like a perpetual daylight, the clicks merging into a sea of clamor. Standing backstage, Ling Yao could clearly hear the roof-shaking screams and cheers from the front. His makeup artist gave him a final touch of his hair, while his manager gave him final instructions, his tone serious and hurried.
He took a deep breath, suppressing the violent pounding in his chest. His exquisitely tailored stage costume felt unfamiliar, and his makeup was much heavier than it had been during his trainee days. He stared in the mirror at himself, meticulously sculpted, his features imbued with a pre-programmed "coldness" and "composure," and for a moment he was lost in thought.
"Ling Yao, get ready to go on stage!" the staff shouted.
He suppressed all his emotions, his eyes instantly became focused and sharp, he nodded slightly, took a step forward, and followed his teammates towards the place where the dazzling stars were.
The bright lights at the front desk were almost blinding. Following a rehearsed routine, he introduced himself, answered questions from the media, and performed his first performance. Every movement and every response was impeccable. He was calm and well-mannered, even occasionally revealing a hint of the captain's responsibility and gentleness, perfectly matching the image the company had created for him as both a "calm and reliable leader."
The fans' screams threatened to pierce his eardrums, and the banners and cheering signs merged into a sea of light. He stood in the center, receiving everyone's gaze and admiration. The immense joy and sense of accomplishment of his dream coming true washed over him, but at the same time, an invisible, heavy pressure quietly descended upon him—he was no longer trainee Ling Yao, he was idol Ling Yao, belonging to the stage, to the fans, and to the company.
The press conference was a resounding success. The group immediately made headlines in major media outlets, and Ling Yao's personal popularity soared thanks to his outstanding appearance and calm performance. However, what followed was an even more frantic work pace.
As a new group, they couldn't be picky. Their jam-packed schedule of music promotions, radio appearances, variety shows, commercials, and countless media interviews squeezed sleep into the utmost. As captain, Ling Yao shouldered even more responsibilities: caring for younger members, representing the group in media, and coordinating team dynamics. He forced himself to quickly adapt to the role of "captain," constantly minding his words and actions, and suppressing his genuine fatigue and occasional irritability beneath the mask of the perfect idol.
Every day was like a battle, shuttling between different locations and cameras. The nanny car became a mobile lounge, and he would often fall asleep leaning against the car window on the way to the next announcement.
However, no matter how busy or tired he was, as long as he had a chance to breathe, he would always take out his phone first. When the screen was unlocked, the first thing he saw was usually a message from Su Rui.
Sometimes it was a photo, taken from various angles, of Ling Yao's stage presence or interview clips playing on his computer screen, captioned with: "This shot is amazing!" or "The captain's speech is so steady!"; sometimes it was a simple sharing: "The hot sauce for lunch today seems to be the brand you mentioned wanting."; sometimes it was just a reminder: "I heard you coughing, do you have any throat lozenges in your bag?"
No complaints, no demands, just quietly sharing his concern and thoughts.
Ling Yao would glance at these messages, his lips curling up in a genuine, tired smile. He would quickly reply: [Just finished recording, tired.] [I'll take you to try potato and bone soup next time.] [I ate the candy, I'm fine.]
Although the words were few, they were the most genuine warmth he could muster from his teeth. He even secretly saved the "screen photos" Su Rui sent him, feeling that they were more touching than any official retouched photos.
Back in South City, Su Rui's greatest relaxation after a day's work was to curl up in his chair, put on his headphones, and watch all of Ling Yao's public material. He watched it over and over again, not screaming like a fan, but simply quietly appreciating it.
He watched Ling Yao effortlessly control the stage, diligently respond in variety shows, and speak with care and grace in interviews. He could see through those perfect facades to the fatigue hidden deep in Ling Yao's eyes, the subtle movements he made when his mind wandered, and even the subtle changes in his voice that indicated he'd been up all night again.
This quiet gaze through the screen became his way of participating in Ling Yao's life. He knew Ling Yao was at the center of the vortex, enjoying supreme glory but also inevitably bearing unimaginable pressure. He didn't interrupt, didn't ask for anything, simply used this way to tell him: I've been watching, I see all your efforts and brilliance, I'm here.
The star has already set off, shining brightly but also lonely. But the slender thread between the two, through the silent sharing and gaze on both ends of the screen, still tightly maintains them, preserving a quiet and warm space for them in the busy and noisy world.
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