The performance ended.
Backstage.
I lay on the sofa in the lounge, staring at the ceiling.
My phone rested on my chest, its screen still glowing.
It displayed a clip from the performance just now—the moment Alice knelt and made a finger heart.
It had been turned into a GIF and was spreading like wildfire across every major platform.
—But what did Alice’s business have to do with me, Lin Zou?
I was just her Little White Face, anyway.
I lay there.
Like a beached fish.
‘I am a beached fish right now.’
My limbs were spread wide, and it felt as if my bones had been sucked right out of me.
My knees were still throbbing with a dull ache, a gift left behind by those last three consecutive jumps.
My arms were too sore to even lift, the price for making finger hearts throughout the entire show.
Yet, I was still scrolling through my phone.
My fingers moved mechanically, swiping down line after line.
[Alice returns! The entire audience is in tears!]
‘No value, pass.’
[I completely broke down the moment she knelt and made that heart.]
‘Can I just say I didn’t mean to do that?’
[Did anyone notice her hands were shaking???]
‘Hey, don’t look at every little thing!’
[The week-long wait was worth it, sob…]
[A Supernova is indeed a Supernova.]
[She said she’s going to blow us away again tomorrow! I’m too excited—no, I mean, that’s great!]
‘I’m sorry, but that was just a line.’
The internet was reeling from the aftershocks.
Fans were going crazy, passersby were stunned, and marketing accounts were riding the wave of popularity.
‘As expected, I overdid it again.’
I pressed the phone against my chest and stared at the pale, sickly light on the ceiling.
‘I should have known better than to get upset.’
But I knew that was a lie.
Even if I did it a hundred times over, as long as I stood on that stage and saw that sea of pink below, I would still overdo it.
It was a disease.
The kind that couldn’t be cured.
‘And… something else leaked out during the performance just now.’
I closed my eyes, recalling those final minutes.
That look in her eyes.
That “What’s wrong?”
That silhouette as she turned to leave.
—The members of Girls’ Revolution must have seen it.
It wasn’t Alice; it was Lin Zou.
Click—
The backstage door pushed open.
I opened my eyes and glanced toward the side.
The Bassist.
She was alone.
She stood at the door, her hand still resting on the handle, as if it had taken immense courage just to push it open.
The tear stains on her face hadn’t dried yet, and her eyes were still a bit red.
I slowly sat up.
“What is it?”
My voice was even colder than usual.
I didn’t mean for it to be; I was just exhausted.
The Bassist opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
She took a step forward.
Then another.
She walked until she was right in front of me and stopped.
She was very close.
Close enough that I could see the teardrops still clinging to her eyelashes.
“Um…”
Her voice was tiny, as if she were afraid of disturbing something.
“Yes?”
“The Witch… Lilith, Alice, you…”
She paused.
I looked at her, saying nothing.
She took a deep breath, seemingly having reached a decision.
Suddenly, she leaned in close, almost pressing against my ear—
“…What is the relationship between you all?”
Her voice was trembling.
But her eyes didn’t look away.
I looked back at her.
Tear stains still marked her face, her eyes were red, and she looked incredibly fragile, like a frightened little rabbit.
—She looked very easy to bully.
“…” I remained silent for three seconds.
Then, I spoke slowly, my voice even lower than before:
“Instead of asking that, you came here alone to ask—Gemstone Princess.”
I stared into her eyes.
“Aren’t you afraid?”
I leaned forward half an inch, closing the last of the distance between us.
“That I might do something to you?”
The backstage lounge was empty.
The door was closed.
The lights were pale.
Her breath hitched.
I saw her pupils contract slightly and her shoulders tense as she instinctively tried to shrink back—
But she didn’t retreat.
She stood there, meeting my gaze.
Then, she spoke.
Her voice was so quiet it was almost inaudible:
“I… I will… protect you…”
I froze for a moment.
“…Protect?”
“Yes.”
She nodded, a very firm nod.
“Whether you’re Alice or Lilith… your performance was amazing… I… I really liked it.”
Her voice grew smaller and smaller, until the last few words were spoken in a mere whisper.
“I… I’m your fan! Whether it’s Alice or the Witch…”
But she never stopped looking into my eyes.
She didn’t look away.
“I don’t know why you’re… like this. But anyone who saw your performance would know… it was truly wonderful.”
Having finished, she lowered her head, not daring to look at me anymore.
The lounge stayed silent for three seconds.
I looked at her.
At her lowered head, at those two undried tear stains, at those hands that clenched and then loosened.
“…Is that all?”
I finally spoke.
She looked up at me.
“…That’s all.”
Her voice was still weak, but there was something in her eyes—the stubbornness of someone saying, “I’ve said my piece, do what you want.”
I stared at her for three seconds.
Three seconds.
Five seconds.
And then—
“Heh~”
I couldn’t help it; a soft laugh escaped me.
It was short.
It was light.
But it was definitely a laugh.
I stood up.
She instinctively took a step back but stopped herself.
I grabbed the coat draped over the back of the chair and threw it on.
I walked to the door and placed my hand on the handle.
I didn’t look back.
“Cough, cough. Alice and Lilith don’t have a relationship.”
“I just made the names up on a whim. Don’t overthink it.”
Click.
The door opened.
I walked out.
***
The corridor was empty.
The pale light shone down from above, casting a long shadow on the floor.
I walked a few paces and suddenly stopped.
I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath.
‘…Protect me.’
That voice was still echoing in my head.
So small, so weak, yet spoken with such intensity.
‘How interesting.’
I opened my eyes and continued forward.
After a few more steps, I remembered something.
I glanced back.
That door was still closed.
The Bassist was probably still inside.
What was her name again?
…I forgot.
I turned back.
And kept walking.
***
When I returned to my room, I collapsed into a chair and stared at my reflection in the mirror.
Alice was gone.
The person in the mirror was Lin Zou.
An ordinary, pale, delicate-looking boy.
I looked at those eyes.
Something inside them overlapped with what the Bassist had called “amazing” just now.
‘…I overdid it again.’
I looked away.
Outside the window, the city lights were still glowing.
I wondered what that Bassist was doing now.
And I wondered if she really would “protect” anyone.
But one thing was certain—
Tomorrow, it would continue.
The twenty-day countdown had… I was too lazy to count what was left.
Anyway, that idiot Su Nian would be crawling on the floor shouting again tomorrow… well, maybe not for now.
That white-haired girl, Chuxue, had moved in over here too.
And I had to keep being this beached fish.
Lying flat.
I would get back up in 5 minutes.
***
In the morning, when I woke up in bed.
Sunlight squeezed through the gaps in the curtains, cutting a bright line across the floor.
Before I even opened my eyes, I felt something hovering by the edge of the bed.
Very close.
Then she pressed down on me, her entire body sprawling over mine.
She was a bit heavy.
The sunlight was blocked by her shadow.
Then she moved my hands to either side of the bed and pinned them down.
It was as if she were afraid I would run away.
Then came the sound of breathing.
The air she exhaled hit my face—
I opened my eyes.
I found a large face pressed very close, so close that her eyelashes were about to touch my eyebrows.
Her dark red eyes were wide—like a madwoman’s.
“President.”
It was that fool, Su Nian.
No wonder.
The movement was stupid enough.
“Hm?”
“I watched Alice’s performance last night. Even I know that someone like her couldn’t possibly be supporting a Little White Face.”
“…And?”
The expression on her face shifted several times—confusion, struggle, and finally settling into a sort of desperate resolve.
“President, you are actually—”