Chapter 1: Spicy Balls!

3:00 AM, I woke up right on time.

The moment I opened my door, the neighbor’s door clicked open as well.

“Hi, Alice.”

— Last night, I received a note that said: “I know who you are.”

‘It’s over!’

The cheers of the audience continued.

Right up until the second the lights dimmed, my smile remained fixed on my face.

This was muscle memory.

It was the result of long-term training and 1,200 practice sessions in front of the mirror until the upward angle of my lips was etched into my bones.

The screams from below the stage persisted.

“Alice! Alice! Alice!”

The waves of sound surged from the dark seating area, crashing against the edge of the stage like a tide, or perhaps like something hungry.

I held my final pose — right hand raised over my head in a half-heart, left heel slightly lifted, and skirt hem resting exactly 3 centimeters above my knees — until the curtain had completely closed.

‘Though it’s a pity, the Alice you all love is actually… a boy.’

While I desperately wanted to say that to them on stage and watch the expressions on their faces after being teased so ruthlessly —

I would definitely die.

Yes, I would be deader than dead.

Thinking back to the madness I just witnessed on stage, I couldn’t help but criticize them in my head.

Then, I turned and walked backstage.

The lights in the corridor were a deathly pale, a world away from the multicolored beams on stage.

“Good work — “

Sparse greetings floated past me.

I nodded but didn’t make a sound.

When I reached the door of the dressing room, a young girl suddenly popped up from the side.

She looked unfamiliar, likely a new intern.

“Um… Senior Alice! Could… could you give me an autograph?”

She held out a notebook, her hands trembling.

I looked at her for 2 seconds before taking the notebook and signing it.

She hugged the book and ran off, stopping after a few steps to turn back and bow, nearly hitting the wall in the process.

— How silly.

She’s a bit like… Forget it, I won’t think about it.

The breath I used for that high note was still caught in my throat.

C5, half a step higher than the original key.

This is my usual pitch, a personal trick.

But no one could tell.

The people below the stage only heard things like “Alice is in great form today,” “The high notes are so stable,” and “As expected of a genius girl.”

Genius.

I repeated the word in my mind and then tossed it into a mental trash can.

So what if I’m a genius?

Being a genius doesn’t put food on the table.

I actually didn’t want to be an idol, but once I became one, there was no going back because:

[Balance]

Balance: 19,578,542 RMB

— It really gives a lot.

I took out my phone.

Every time I saw this number, it felt pleasing to the eye.

‘Wait until I earn a bit more and then I’ll run away~ hee-hee.’

I could almost see my luxury cruise ship vacation waving at me.

I pushed open the door to the dressing room, and the cold air from the air conditioner hit me.

I put my hand to my collar, wanting to undo the top button, but then I stopped.

The lights in front of the vanity mirror were blindingly bright.

The person in the mirror had pink twin tails, glittery eyeshadow, and a lip gloss from the brand I was endorsing today.

My manager said I needed to “accidentally show it off” in my selfies.

She looked at me.

I looked at her.

Alice and the Gemstone Princess.

“Pfft — “

A muffled laugh came from behind me.

I didn’t turn around, but I saw two heads poking in from the door in the mirror.

Mayu and Rika.

They were from the neighboring group, Orient.

They didn’t have a performance tonight and had specifically come to watch the fun.

“Here she goes again,” Mayu squeezed into the room and circled to my side, staring at my face to study it.

“On stage, she’s a sweet little angel, but off stage, she’s…”

She paused as if looking for the right word.

“A walking corpse?”

Rika offered.

“It’s not that exaggerated…”

I spoke, my voice an octave lower than it had been on stage, sounding like a different person.

Mayu laughed.

“That’s it! On stage, your voice is so sweet, but now you have this dead person’s tone — the contrast is just too much!”

As she spoke, she began to imitate me, pinching her throat to mimic my stage persona.

“‘Thank you everyone, Alice loves you all the most — ‘ and then coming backstage, ‘…so tired.'”

While Mayu spoke, she even struck an exaggerated pose like an old man with a cigarette in his mouth counting money.

Rika laughed so hard she hit the wall.

The dressing room was quite large, and others resting there laughed as well.

I didn’t laugh.

I only twitched the corner of my mouth, pretending to look helpless.

In the mirror, it was as if my performance on stage really was just a disguise, and this was the “real” me.

“…True,” I said, temporarily pretending to be in my stage persona again.

“Because Alice actually has Social Anxiety.”

“Hahaha — “

They laughed even harder.

Aside from them, others in the dressing room were also snickering.

I took all of this in through the mirror.

Mayu patted my shoulder.

“I’ve heard you use that excuse for 2 months now. Can’t you change it to a new one?”

The fact that I had Social Anxiety had indeed been circulating for a while.

They had long since accepted my off-stage “true colors” — Social Anxiety, a sense of being dead inside, and forced business.

But the secret I hid the deepest wasn’t just that.

It was —

The fact that I am actually a boy.

That was the point.

Right, the gorgeous girl who just commanded the stage and caught everyone’s attention was actually a boy…

Well, if the audience saw it from that perspective, they would probably have a breakdown…

“Hahaha…”

I gave a perfunctory reply.

Then they turned their chatter to someone else.

“But seriously, the contrast between your on-stage and off-stage personas is incredible. Last time, the manager even said that with Alice’s acting skills, it’s a pity you don’t go into acting.”

“Acting is too tiring…”

“You — why are you always complaining about things being tiring!”

Because I really am tired.

A friend beside her pulled her back.

“Alright, alright, let her rest. There’s an early show tomorrow.”

“Fine then, Gemstone Princess ~ go to sleep early — oh, right, take this.”

Gemstone Princess was a nickname given to me by my fans.

Having said that, she pulled a small bag from her pocket and tossed it over.

I caught it.

It was two strawberry-flavored candies.

I had mentioned liking them once in passing.

“Thank you…”

I responded with a somewhat stiff and polite manner, much more real than my persona on stage, because I felt I really should be thankful.

I didn’t expect those words to become an outlet for everyone.

“Wow ~ Alice is so cute!”

“Yeah, yeah! Come here and let me give you a pat, okay ~ “

Then, disregarding my feelings, they all acted familiar and leaned in, reaching out their hands —

“Alice’s hair feels so good ~ I finally found an opportunity today ~ “

“Hee-hee ~ Alice is so small and cute ~ “

“Ugh…”

This wasn’t the first time I had experienced such a scene.

‘Dammit — once I earn enough money, I’ll… run away and get far away from you all.’

There was nothing I could do.

After all, they were all genuine, beautiful girls.

Moreover, because my body was small and I looked very cute, I always appeared to be at their mercy.

Thus, I frequently suffered “sieges” from my peers.

“Uh… ah.”

‘Oh no, I’m going to be found out — ‘

Helplessly, I could only make embarrassing sounds that suited someone with Social Anxiety while internally screaming in fear of being discovered, all while being forced to enjoy the treatment of being the group’s darling.

“Sigh.”

After being harassed for a while.

I pretended as if nothing had happened and calmed my heart.

I put the candy in my pocket and continued removing my makeup.

Foundation, eyeshadow, blush, and lip gloss were removed layer by layer by the makeup remover.

The face in the mirror slowly returned to its original color — not the pinkish-white from the stage, but a common, slightly unhealthy paleness.

The shape of my eyebrows didn’t need changing; they were already delicate.

My eyes didn’t need work either; the makeup artist once said these eyes were a gift from God, and “drawing a bit of eyeliner could fool everyone.”

Fool everyone.

I looked in the mirror again.

Now, the person in the mirror could only be described as having a handsome face, but compared to the “world-toppling” Alice on stage, the gap was somewhat large.

If placed in a crowd, I would probably be classified as a “pretty boy.”

A boy.

I once again broke the word down in my mind and put it back together.

17 years old, male, occupation: female idol.

Who would believe that if I said it out loud?

Just thinking about it made me feel a bit dead inside.

It wasn’t just the desperate gap in my heart caused by cross-dressing, but the fear of the series of terrifying consequences that would follow if I were exposed.

They thought I only had one layer of disguise, that the idol with Social Anxiety was my true self, unaware that it was just another layer of camouflage to hide the fact that I was a boy.

In fact, my makeup hadn’t even been completely removed; there were still one or two thin layers left.

“Heh…”

I laughed helplessly as I unbuttoned the first button.

Beneath the collar were pads and chest-binding bandages.

After padding, I had to wrap it in three layers to give the uniform just the right curve.

“Phew…”

At this moment, I had to admit that the Social Anxiety excuse was a great find.

Otherwise, if other girls approached me casually and I couldn’t show any abnormalities, I would definitely be even more nervous.

Of course, the Social Anxiety was real, and so was my gender.

That was why it appeared so natural and could fool them.

My throat had undergone surgery due to an accident a long time ago.

Medical progress was significant; while it healed, it also hid the Adam’s apple that was most likely to reveal my gender.

Because of this, a long time had passed, and no one had ever suspected me based on my physical traits.

The time on my phone reminded me that it was late.

And I really was tired.

Fortunately, my Social Anxiety attribute was always at work, effectively reducing the burden of being discovered.

“Yo ~ Alice! You were great today too ~ “

“Gemstone Princess ~ You’re totally different off stage ~ “

“Ah, haha…”

Well, I really was easily treated like the group’s darling and entangled by them…

After another bout of wits and courage with my peers in the dressing room, I finally returned to the temporary apartment my manager had prepared for this performance.

The sunset slowly crawled onto my back.

*Click.*

As soon as I returned to my room and opened the door, I walked toward the shower.

Since there was an early show tomorrow, I had to hurry.

When the sound of water began, I heard someone in the corridor shouting, “Alice, the delivery is here — did you order it?”

The voice sounded like the new idol I had seen in the dressing room earlier, Chuxue.

But I hadn’t.

I hadn’t ordered delivery tonight.

But the voice stopped outside the door, followed by a *rustle* of movement, as if something was being shoved through the crack of the door.

By the time I finished my shower and came out, a note was lying on the floor.

There was only one line of text on it:

“I know who you are.”

— Seeing this, my heart skipped a beat.

The handwriting was crooked, like someone who usually used their right hand was deliberately using their left.

I crumpled the note into a ball and threw it into the trash can.

Then I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling.

I looked calm on the surface, but in reality…

‘It’s over, it’s over, it’s over — !’

This world wasn’t actually as peaceful as it seemed. I knew that much —

At least not in the idol industry.

What’s more, my “true-true-true” identity was very sensitive.

3 seconds later, I sat up, fished the note out of the trash can, smoothed it out, and read it again.

It was still those six words.

This wasn’t the first time I had seen this.

I guessed it was most likely from a colleague.

I had a nickname given to me by fans —

Gemstone Princess.

In this world, idol titles cannot be self-proclaimed.

Or rather, in formal settings, one is not allowed to have a second name unless they receive a massive amount of love and recognition from fans.

There were even other requirements.

From this, one could tell just how popular I currently was.

I knew I should perhaps restrain myself, but I could never completely control it.

Being envied by peers was unavoidable.

Even if just a few hours ago, we were acting like a harmonious group and I was the darling —

That could also be a disguise, couldn’t it?

— Just like me.

“………”

But most likely, it referred to my “cold-faced” true self backstage.

Or perhaps there were other details I hadn’t noticed?

Or could it be…

I shoved the note under my pillow.

There was still an early show tomorrow.

I couldn’t think about it anymore.

I had to sleep.

Outside the window, the city was brightly lit.

I didn’t know how many people were still awake.

I also didn’t know if the person who wrote that note was currently under the same night sky.

It was also possible…

They were right next door.