In a hotel, deep into the night, a setting often ripe for sin with a man and a woman alone. This could've been the start of a scandalous tale if not for the watchful eyes of Carter Blake's agent from across the sofa, guarding against infidelity with a gaze sharp enough to slice through tension. Sophie might have found the atmosphere oddly thrilling if not for that vigilant stare piercing through the dimly lit room.
The sound of water cascading in the bathroom broke the silence, reminding Sophie, who was lost in thought with a blank expression, of the third presence among them—undoubtedly, Carter Blake. Anyone else might fantasize about the nation's premier heartthrob mere feet away behind a mere wall, but Sophie? She only yearned for a life-saving glass of water and to collapse into bed.
As she nestled into the sofa corner, her gaze inadvertently fell upon the evidence of the evening's earlier mishap on the coffee table, now guarded by Carter's agent: the soda water bottle that had drenched Carter. Sophie's eyelids fluttered, fingers tentatively lifting from the sofa's arm, "Could I possibly…"
The click of the bathroom door interrupted her, and following it, leisurely footsteps echoed a rhythm into the living room. Sophie looked over to find the source of the sound: a man toweling his wet, white hair, clad only in a loosely tied bathrobe that hung off his broad shoulders. The bathrobe barely concealed his sculpted torso, presenting a blend of strength and aesthetic appeal in every contour, ending with the belt tied in a carelessly uneven bow. The garment exuded an effortless elegance, as though it might slip off at any moment.
Sophie hadn't expected her visit would include such a test of restraint against male beauty.
The man, an industry titan, seemed unbothered by her presence. Before Sophie could withdraw her gaze, the newcomer sensed her scrutiny. Pausing his hair-drying, he lifted his chin.
Through the few strands of snowy hair, Sophie locked eyes with a pair of deep, piercing dark ones. They were as cold and clear as mountain spring water, devoid of warmth.
A silent standoff ensued for a few seconds before they both spoke simultaneously.
Carter: "Why is she still here?"
Sophie: "Do I need to pay for a ticket here?"
Carter: "?"
His gaze, having briefly shifted away, returned to Sophie with a cool flicker, his lips curling, not quite a smile: "What was that?"
Sophie: "…"
Considering his reputation as a defiant, independent icon, Sophie doubted provoking him was wise. Her spontaneous retort was driven by irritation from his stare, nothing more.
Thus, opting for peace, she averted her eyes, sinking further into the sofa: "It's nothing."
Carter then turned to his agent, who, upon snapping back to reality, quickly interposed himself between them in a poorly veiled attempt to diffuse the tension: "Carter, you're out in such a state?"
"Otherwise, do I need to wear a tie before bed?" Carter's eyes, dark and shiny with a restrained coldness, glanced at his manager. The manager, struggling to find the words, said, "You know you haven't rested well, but we still need to address the current issue."
"What issue is that?"
"Obviously, about the girl tonight. Who knows if she's one of those gossip tabloid paparazzi, or one of your crazy sasaeng fans, or perhaps—could it be another little schemer who can't stand seeing you at peace for a few days, plotting some major scandal against you?"
Carter couldn't be bothered with his manager's wild imagination. Standing a head taller than his manager, he easily saw the girl sitting in the corner of the sofa, gazing out the window. Her neat mid-length hair, clean and pretty appearance, dressed simply and plainly, yet her face remained expressionless throughout. He particularly remembered the girl standing below the small western-style building in the film city tonight, who looked back at him calmly after their eyes met, only to regretfully glance at the soda can taken away by the manager.
"It's a pity for my soda," her expression seemed to say.
And now, after hearing his manager's baseless speculations, Carter watched as the girl tilted her head lazily and yawned without making a sound, her face screaming, "I am tired; when will this end?"
In fact, Sophie was indeed exhausted. After Vivian Hart had been on set for half a month, all the challenging stand-in scenes were left for Sophie to shoot today, plus an extra scene of lying in a hospital bed tonight. Although it was technically a "bed scene" in a sense, the foolish male co-star kept messing up the takes, leaving her lying so still she felt like throwing the IV drip at him.
If it weren't for fear of being silenced in her dreams, she'd have already passed out from exhaustion. As she was halfway through her second yawn, the loud plotting finally ended on the other side. The manager couldn't stop Carter Blake from coming over and sitting down.
He turned slightly, opened the fridge, and casually leaned against it as he grabbed a soda can. With a flick and a twist of his wrist, he popped it open with a crisp "snap." Sophie's brain twitched at the sound.
She glumly looked at her own disappointing soda can on the table. Carter took a sip from his can, his chin lifting slightly, and in that low, seductive voice that could make fans scream in ecstasy, he asked, "A sasaeng fan?"
Sophie: "…"
Her mood soured even more. Knowing the level of her manager's paranoia, she realized she wouldn't be leaving anytime soon without clearing things up. So, she gathered her energy to sit up straight, deliberately avoiding looking at the loosely tied bathrobe, and said, "I'm not your fan. Tonight was just a coincidence and an accident."
"Ha," the manager snorted coldly beside them, indicating disbelief.
Sophie insisted, "Really."
The manager challenged, "Then provide evidence that you're not a fan."
Sophie: "…"
The manager turned to Carter, "See, she can't prove it!"
Sophie, trying to reason, said, "It's easy to prove if one is a fan, but how do you prove someone isn't?"
The manager retorted, "How is it easy to prove one is a fan? Nowadays, sasaengs are so good at disguising themselves, how can we know you're not just pretending?"
Sophie, already pushed to her limit by Julian's idiocy earlier that evening, turned to face the manager, pointed at Carter, who was enjoying his soda and watching the drama unfold, and said emotionlessly, "If I were a sasaeng, he would have been stripped of his bathrobe and overpowered by now. Believe it or not?"
The manager was stunned into silence.
But the man in question, lounging on the sofa, took a leisurely sip of his soda and said, "I don't believe it."
Sophie turned back to face him, expressionless. For a second, she was tempted to act on her threat.
Then, seeing Carter frown slightly at his soda can and put it down, he added, "But she really isn't my fan."
"Carter, don't be so naive—" the agent pleaded in urgency.
"It's fine. No cameras, not paparazzi. Since she's just a passerby, pay her, have her sign a nondisclosure agreement... You handle the rest." Carter Blake stood from the sofa, hands casually tucked into the pockets of his robe, and made his way to the bedroom suite.
"Where are you going?" the agent called after him.
"Tired. Going to catch up on some sleep," Carter replied nonchalantly.
Left without a response, the agent could only signal for Sophie to follow him out. As she stood, Sophie pointed towards her can of soda, "Can I take that back now?"
"No!" the agent protested.
"Why not?"
The agent pressed down firmly, "Who knows what you might have put in it? I need to take it for testing."
Carter paused at the door, raising an eyebrow, "What could she possibly add?"
The agent fell into thought.
"Love potion, maybe," Sophie retorted with cold sarcasm, bypassing the agent towards the exit. "Added half a can for you to savor slowly."
The agent was left speechless.
Sophie took a month off after that night.
When she was juggling modeling and various extras roles before, she barely had a moment to breathe, hopping from one set to another without any real break. After signing with Vivian Hart's agency and securing a long-term stunt double contract, her schedule became more flexible but demanded her availability on short notice.
Vivian often treated her like a personal assistant.
"It's rare, princess Hart letting you off the hook for a whole month without stirring any trouble," the voice teased through the speakerphone on Sophie's bedside.
The caller, Miranda Yu, was a comrade-in-arms Sophie met during her extras days. Miranda had landed a role as the third lead in a low-budget web series and had since enjoyed a bit of fame, now faring slightly better than Sophie in the industry.
Miranda was perhaps the only friend Sophie considered close within the circle.
After nearly five years of acquaintance, Miranda was quite familiar with Sophie's circumstances and spared no effort in jesting, "I remember princess Hart needing to flip your card every other day. What's with the month-long silence? Jealous, are you?"
"Jealous of my peace and quiet," Sophie stretched effortlessly, performing a split against the wall, "you must be."
"Ha, jealous of you? For willingly signing such a ludicrous stunt double contract when you could easily rival any top actress in looks and figure? Or is it for your insistence on treading the thorny path of serving as Vivian Hart's lackey? Every time she looks down on you with that smug face, I just want to slap her. Are you a masochist, enduring her for years?"
Sophie eased out of her stretch, grabbing her phone to collapse back onto her bed, "Dealing with her doesn't require patience if I don't see her."
"You say that so lightly," Miranda's voice softened, hinting at a deeper inquiry, "What's the real deal between you and Vivian Hart? Why would someone born with a silver spoon like her have it out for you?"
Sophie pondered a moment longer than usual, "Can't remember."
"Can't remember? Not a yes or no, but can't remember?"
"We were classmates in junior high, but as for interactions, I have no memory of them."
"Intriguing... Just curious, were you as indifferent and unapproachable back then, yet still somehow surrounded by a crowd of admirers?"
"Did I?"
"Understood."
Sophie, finding herself unusually free, considered delving deeper into the topic with her sole confidante.
Unfortunately, she wasn't given the chance.
The buzz of an incoming call caught her attention.
"Got another call?" Miranda asked.
Sophie picked up her phone in silence.
"Look at you, sneaking around with someone else? Who is it? Just wait until I—"
"It's Vivian Hart."
"…"
"Okay, talk later."
The unapologetic caller had already hung up.
Sophie didn't react much, just switched to the new incoming call. After listening for a while, she casually responded with a "Hmm," ended the call, got up, and went to her closet to pick out clothes for heading out.
Half an hour later, riding the subway to the designated spot, Sophie received a text from Miranda Yu.
Miranda: Damn my jinx. What divine decree has Princess Hart bestowed upon you this time?
Sophie typed with one hand: "There's a reshoot for the film wrap-up and a charity gala tonight, she asked me to accompany her."
Miranda: A charity gala needs a body double? What's she using you for?
Sophie recalled, her eyes drooping as she blew a strand of hair away from her face: "Carrying her bags."
Miranda: ...Please don't tell me it's not the first time.
"Not the first time."
Miranda: …
Miranda: I just can't wrap my head around it. With all her malice, why on earth did you sign a stunt double contract with her?
As the subway plunged into the tunnel, the darkness outside turned into an endless abyss.
Reflected in the fleeting shadows, Sophie caught glimpses of disarrayed, chaotic scenes: Police tape, screams, sinister faces, scattered pill bottles, her mother unconscious, the shrill of an ambulance...
It felt like a lifetime ago, yet it was only five years.
Sophie closed her eyes for a moment, then sent a message light as a feather: "Pays well."
A long silence followed on the other end before carefully worded, "Have you paid off those debts yet?"
Sophie: 111
After grinding her teeth at this nonchalant reply for a few seconds, Miranda sighed and typed: "So, you're really going back to college once the contract ends?"
Sophie: 111
Frustrated, Miranda bit into a pillow.
Miranda: With your face and figure, you should at least save up for a house before leaving the scene!!
Miranda: Salty Fish Summer! Don't you have any dreams at all?
Dreams?
A ripple crossed Sophie's typically impassive face, her eyes slightly narrowing in mockery.
She looked up.
And just then, as the subway burst out of the tunnel, a vast, blinding light hit her face. High rises sprawled before her, seemingly within reach yet infinitely far, as if the world was vast and all paths open.
Yet, Sophie's legs felt numb from standing.
Before shifting her gaze, she saw a giant billboard, tall enough for everyone passing by to see clearly. The person on it stood atop the entire city.
A flicker of emotion passed through Sophie's indifferent demeanor as she squinted lightly.
"Buzz, buzz."
"…"
Sophie looked down.
Miranda: I'm asking you! Couch Potato! Don't you have any dreams?
With a lazy droop of her eyelids, Sophie tapped: "I do."
Miranda: Speak!
Sophie: "I've always wanted to be a scientist since I was young."
The chat showed "typing..." several times before finally sending a response.
Miranda: You've got to be kidding me.
A faint smile flitted across Sophie's eyes as she got off the subway.
The day waned, dusk gathered softly, and the afternoon slipped by.
As the afternoon drifted by, the charity gala at the hotel lobby was setting up. Outside, next to a parked car, Sophie slowly lifted the top doll from a cardboard box – a plush toy with curly black hair, angry triangle eyes, and a tag that read "Love of My Life."
"What's this?" Sophie inquired, holding the doll's curly hair.
"That's Carter Blake," replied Vivian's assistant, busy with the inventory and not looking up. "A limited-edition doll from his third anniversary, one for $999."
Sophie was speechless.
The assistant continued, "The items below are all limited-edition merchandise too – albums, posters, all very expensive. Be careful moving them."
"Moving them to where?" Sophie paused, shifting her focus. "Vivian plans to auction these at the charity event?"
"Of course not," the assistant denied.
Sophie placed the doll back. It seemed sanity still prevailed.
"These are priceless collectibles. Why would Vivian auction them off?" the assistant mused.
Sophie, giving up on understanding fan logic, asked, "So where am I moving them?"
"To the rest room next to the auction hall. Carter Blake is a special guest tonight, and Vivian finally gets to see him. She'll definitely want his autograph."
Behind them, a sleek black car turned the corner and headed towards the underground parking lot.
Inside the car, the agent said, grappling with ongoing contract negotiations, "We've hit a wall with the company..."
Carter, lounging in the leather seat, diverted his gaze back from the rearview mirror where Sophie stood. "How much did we end up paying that soda girl for her silence?"
"What soda girl?" The agent, momentarily puzzled, then remembered. "Oh, the girl from a month ago at the studio?"
"Yes."
"Why bring her up now?" Kevin asked, intrigued. "She left quite an impression, signed a non-disclosure agreement, and asked for nothing in return."
Carter's eyes flickered with interest.
Kevin speculated, "Either she's got a crush on you or some long game in play. I've been too busy to check on her."
"No need," Carter dismissed.
"Why not?" Kevin looked at him, puzzled. "You've seemed sure about her since that day, almost like you know her."
"Because in her eyes," Carter took a moment, "there's no desire."
Kevin fell silent, digesting the remark.
Finally, as they left the car and entered the VIP elevator to the gala, Kevin cautiously asked, "That kind of desire?"
Carter simply replied, enigmatically, "Any kind."
As the elevator doors opened, an enormous box "walked" in.
The open box brimmed with a chaotic mix of colorful objects, topped with oddly familiar banners and scrolls, almost entirely obscuring the person carrying it. All that was visible were slender arms and the legs peeking out from under the hem of overalls.
Kevin hesitated, almost reaching out to help, yet mindful of the celebrity behind him remaining incognito. In these few seconds, the girl stepped in, struggling to turn around, then abruptly stopped.
Sophie quietly observed the familiar white curls and the recognizable collar of the sweater peeping from beside the box. After a breath, she locked eyes with the gaze descending from between the tousled white.
Sophie was speechless.
The elevator ascended in silence.
Moments later, Carter, hands in his pockets, gently lifted a doll lying atop the box.
"Carter Blake," he intoned, his voice captivating even in the confined space as he read the tag aloud — "Love of My Life?"
Sophie had no words. Perhaps, she mused, her presence in this world was a mistake.