The bright stage lights glistened off the beads of sweat on Haruka's forehead as she tried to keep her composure. Bernard, with a gleeful, childlike grin on his face, twirled her one last time before sweeping her into a ballroom-style dip. The world spun for Haruka as she found herself held tightly in the old man's grasp. His grip was surprisingly strong for someone his age, and before she could even think of reacting, he leaned in. It was too fast—far too fast—for her to do anything about it. In an instant, his lips pressed against hers.
The moment felt like an eternity. Haruka froze, her mind blank with shock and horror. She could hear the muffled gasps of the audience, the envious grumbles of middle-aged men who had come to see their favorite idol, not watch her being kissed by someone old enough to be her grandfather. Bernard, lost in his delusion, held the kiss longer than anyone expected, making the situation even worse.
On the sidelines, the two other idols couldn't contain themselves. They snickered quietly, finding the absurdity of the situation too much to resist. One of them, the pink-haired idol, smirked and muttered under her breath, "Go kiss your boyfriend backstage, Haruka. Not in front of everyone—no one wants to see that."
Haruka's face turned pale as she processed what was happening. The initial shock gave way to panic, and she struggled to pull away. Her fellow idols, realizing the situation was getting out of hand, quickly ran over to intervene. They grabbed Bernard by the arms and tried to pry him off, but the old man, lost in his own world, didn't seem to notice.
"Alright let go of her!" one of the idols whispered harshly, tugging at Bernard's arm.
Finally, the kiss broke, and Haruka stumbled backward, gasping for air. Her heart was racing, and she felt her face flush with a mix of embarrassment and fear. But before she could fully comprehend what had just happened, the situation escalated. The audience, which had been on edge the entire time, began to stir.
One man in the crowd stood up, his face red with rage and jealousy. "Haruka, you have a boyfriend? How could you?! It should've been me!" he shouted, his voice filled with desperation.
That was all it took. The crowd erupted into chaos. Drinks were thrown, chairs were overturned, and the previously passive audience of middle-aged men turned into an enraged mob. They had come for a night of fantasy, to see their beloved idols perform, but instead, they felt betrayed by the bizarre spectacle that had unfolded before them.
Security finally realized that the situation had taken a serious turn. The guards, who had been lounging backstage, rushed out to try to restore order. But they were too late. One of the security guards, the burly man with the mustache, was knocked out cold when a plastic drink bottle hit him square in the head. He crumpled to the ground, and the other guards quickly backed away, overwhelmed by the sheer madness of the crowd.
The riot intensified as men started climbing onto the stage, their faces twisted with anger. The two remaining idols screamed and bolted for the exit, leaving Haruka and Bernard behind. Bernard, still holding Haruka in his arms, seemed blissfully unaware of the danger they were in. His eyes were distant, as if he were still lost in his fantasy of flying durians and ballroom dances.
But Haruka wasn't so fortunate. She looked around frantically, trying to find a way out, but they were surrounded. The men were closing in, and there was nowhere to run. She clung to Bernard, not because she wanted to, but because he was the only thing standing between her and the mob.
The first punch came out of nowhere. Bernard staggered, his grip on Haruka loosening as he was struck in the face. Another punch followed, then another. Haruka screamed as she tried to pull him away, but the crowd was relentless. They beat Bernard mercilessly, their fists flying in a flurry of rage. Within moments, his face was a bruised, swollen mess—a deep shade of purple that made it almost unrecognizable.
Haruka's heart pounded in her chest as she tried to shield herself, but the men weren't interested in her just yet. They were too focused on Bernard, venting their frustration and anger on the old man who had ruined their night.
Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the attention shifted. One of the men grabbed Haruka by the arm and lifted her off the ground. "All hail Queen Haruka!" he shouted, and the others joined in, their anger replaced by a twisted sense of celebration.
Haruka's fear turned to confusion as she was hoisted into the air. At first, she thought they were going to help her escape, but as they carried her toward the exit, a new wave of panic set in. "Wait! Where are you taking me?!" she shouted, her voice shaking with terror.
But her pleas went unanswered as the men chanted her name, parading her out of the building like a trophy. The last thing she saw as they carried her away was Bernard lying motionless on the stage, surrounded by the debris of the ruined venue.
When the chaos finally died down, the two remaining idols cautiously made their way back to the stage. They had been hiding in the dressing room, too afraid to come out while the mob was still raging. Now, as they tiptoed across the wreckage, they found Bernard lying on his back, his face a mess of bruises and blood. For a moment, they feared the worst.
"Is he…?" one of them whispered, her voice trembling.
The other knelt down beside Bernard and pressed her fingers to his neck, checking for a pulse. To her relief, it was still there, faint but steady. "He's alive," she said softly.
Just then, Bernard's eyelids fluttered open, and he looked up at the two young women with a dazed expression. He blinked a few times, as if trying to remember where he was, and then muttered weakly, "I guess flying durians aren't popular in this part of town…"
The idols exchanged a glance, unsure whether to laugh or cry. Before they could respond, Bernard's eyes rolled back, and he passed out again, his body going limp.
The next thing Bernard knew, he was lying in a hospital bed, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling his nostrils. His head throbbed, and his body ached all over. Slowly, he opened his eyes and blinked at the harsh fluorescent lights overhead.
"Dad?"
The voice was filled with concern. Bernard turned his head slightly and saw Nathan sitting beside the bed, his face etched with worry. Nathan's eyes were red, as if he had been crying, but he smiled weakly as soon as he saw that his father was awake.
"Dad," Nathan said again, this time with a little more strength in his voice. "You're okay. You're in the hospital, but you're okay."
Bernard tried to speak, but his throat was dry and his lips cracked. He winced as he shifted slightly in the bed, his body protesting every movement.
Nathan leaned forward, his eyes brimming with emotion. Without thinking, he reached out and hugged his father, careful not to press too hard on his injuries. "I'm just glad you're safe," Nathan whispered, holding onto Bernard as if he might disappear if he let go. "I thought I lost you…"
Bernard closed his eyes, his mind still foggy from the pain and the medication, but he could feel the warmth of his son's embrace. For a moment, everything else faded away—the chaos of the concert, the riot, the bruises. All that mattered was that Nathan was here, and they were together.
After a few moments, Nathan pulled back and wiped his eyes. He glanced over at the door just as a nurse came in, pushing a tray of food. She was a petite woman with a kind smile, and she set the tray down on the small table beside Bernard's bed.
"Here you go, Mr. Ng," the nurse said cheerfully. "I brought you some porridge and soup. It's light and easy to digest, just what you need right now."
Bernard looked at the tray with a frown. Hospital food had never been his favorite, and he wasn't in the mood for it now. He sighed and muttered, "I don't like the food in hospitals…"
Nathan chuckled softly, relieved to hear his father complaining about something as ordinary as food. It was a sign that, despite everything, Bernard was still himself. "Yeah, I know, Dad. But it's just for now. Once you're better and out of here, we can go get some real food."
Bernard raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Real food, huh? Like what?"
Nathan smiled. "How about we go to Ya Kun Kaya Toast on North Bridge Road? You always loved their kaya toast and kopi."
Bernard's eyes lit up at the mention of the familiar restaurant. "Kaya toast… That sounds good," he murmured, a small smile tugging at the corners of his bruised lips.
Nathan knew they still had a long road ahead—his father's injuries would take time to heal, and his mental health was an ongoing challenge. But for now, they had this moment, this small victory. And that was enough.
As the nurse busied herself with checking Bernard's vitals, Nathan sat back in his chair and watched his father fall asleep 30 minutes later only for him to also fall asleep 5 minutes after as well.