Whifler frustratedly took a long and deep sigh, irritation was seen on his face. "We're five minutes late. Trish has never been late even a second."
"Well, sorry for having a panic attack?" Tristan replied, deadpan.
They were already at the airport and were heading to where they were going to meet Summer.
"Summer..." Tristan looked at Whifler when he spoke. "She is a bit talkative. But don't worry, Trish isn't that chatty towards her. Just remember all you've learned and you will be fine."
"Alright," Tristan responded.
He was faintly taking a deep breath with every step he took. His body was still trembling. His mind was in a total mess, filled with 'what-ifs' and vexatious thoughts. He was indeed nervous and pressured, but it wasn't that obvious. He tend to obscure them at times.
Whifler turned to Tristan again as he forgot to inform him one more thing. "And Tristan, Summer is fond of—"
"TRIIIIISSSHHH!!" Summer ran from ten meters distance toward Tristan as soon as she saw him.
"Skinship," Whifler mumbled, continuing what he was saying.
"H—" Tristan's words were cut-off when Summer excitedly hugged him. He even almost lost his balance.
"I miss you!" Summer cheerfully said while embracing him tightly.
Tristan looked at Whifler, asking for some help. Whifler just mouthed 'I miss you too' at him.
Tristan was about to say it, but Summer loosened her hold upon him, then looked straight into his eyes. Instead of spilling those words, Tristan was drawn and intensely stared at Summer.
Her round-shaped eyes revealed her sparkling golden-brown irides. Her nose was finely structured. Her thin lips were extremely smooth. As a matter of fact, her face was insanely attractive—in addition, her hazelnut, brown-colored curly hair made her even more charismatic.
"Wait." Tristan flinched and regained his senses when Summer spoke. Her brows were knitted while confusedly staring at him. She started to examine him.
Whifler and Tristan were getting choked up by their nervousness. Their bodies became stiff while waiting for Summer's next statement.
'Did she notice?'
'Did I fail?'
They both thought.
"Are you for real?! I know you were taller than me but, Wow! You got taller than usual! What did you do, huh? huh? Tell me! Tell me!" Summer teasingly and cheerfully said while poking Tristan's waist.
"Stop it. It tickles!" Tristan protested, guarding his waist.
"Is it ticklish?? Ticklish? huh?" she teased him even more while giggling.
"Summer, enough!" Tristan was trying his best to hold Summer's hands.
"Ohh. You said more??" she laughed.
Whifler just smiled as he looked at them. 'It seemed like he naturally performed Trish', he thought.
But even though his test was successful, he couldn't believe Summer still noticed the tiniest detail that most people wouldn't. Tristan was an inch taller than Trish, which was barely noticeable, especially when Tristan would wear different lengths of heels in the future. He could be taller now or shorter the next time, depending on the heels he wore and the people he was with.
"Miss Summer!!" They all looked toward the girl—her assistant, Melissa Deon—who had shouted from a distance.
She was tiredly running, with two handbags in his left hand, a sling bag on her body, and a medium-sized suitcase that was pulled with her right hand.
Her bangs were sticking on each side of her forehead and her half-closed, tired eyes were seen through her big glasses. Not to mention, she bathed in sweat.
"Miss Summer." She gasped as she reached where Summer was standing.
"What happened to you, Melissa?" Summer asked while helping her to relax. Whifler got the other luggage in her hand.
"Manager Go was looking for you. You just dis—disappeared all of a sudden. We thought we lost you somewhere," Melissa answered, still breathing heavily.
Summer's forehead furrowed. "Didn't Reign tell you? I told her I will meet Trish."
Melissa shook her head, "She didn't. She shrugged her shoulders when we asked her."
"Aist! That brat!" Summer paused when she saw Reign came with the other staff. "I'll be right back!" she said, then ran toward Reign's direction.
Tristan's gaze followed Summer until she stopped in front of a girl. "Who is she?" He whispered to Whifler.
"Who?" Whifler asked.
"That girl Summer is talking to," Whifler glanced at the girl that Tristan was referring.
"Is she not familiar to you?" Whifler asked him back.
"That's why I'm asking. I think I saw her somewhere," Tristan replied, thinking.
"She is Reign Jassle Ricks, an actress too. She mostly had second lead roles. And she's Summer's step-sister," Whifler answered.
Tristan flinched when her pair of dark brown eyes coldly looked in his direction. She had this gaze that could intimidate anyone. Her dark aura could make the atmosphere suffocating. A moment after, her straight, chin-length hair, swayed when she turned around to walk away, leaving Summer behind.
"Hey, Reign! Wait!" Summer followed, "Reign!"
Reign literally ignored her and didn't stop walking. Summer tried blocking her way while glaring at her. She halted.
"What's your deal?!" Summer crossed her arms.
Reign raised her right brow, giving her a cold stare."If you want to give something to Amber, do it yourself. Don't bother me."
"Was it that hard to give this to your sister? Aren't you two living together?"
Reign just replied with an unamused look, then left.
"REIGN! Re—" Summer just gave up instead of draining her energy even more.
"Summer!" She flinched as she recognized the voice and slowly looked behind her. That terror gaze and penguin walk instantly brought her composure back. She breath in lightly and tried to think a getaway from his temper.
"Manager Go. Hehehe," She grinned, then hid her both hands at her back. She knew she will be scolded, so she decided to use her charm. But that didn't help.
"Don't try to look cute. It's not working," her manager said in an edgy tone. She pouted and aligned her two index fingers together, trying to calm his temper with her charm again.
Her manager just took a deep sigh, "I told you that won't work..."
Then...
"You... WHAT ON EARTH HAS GOTTEN TO YOU?! Leaving without a word? Did you know I was too worried and bothered?! I thought some obsessed fans kidnapped you! You even escaped your bodyguards! For Pete's sake, I almost called the police!" Her manager rebuked.
"Relaxyour heart, Manager Go." Summer sweetly said, then clang her arms around his. "I'm sorry, Okay? Forgive me," she said while pouting.
"Goodness. Enough of that face. You're making me cringe! And that will never work on me, Summer." Her manager winced.
"Eh? Why? Am I not cute, huh? I am, right? Right?" She teased, then giggled. She paused when her eyes landed on Tristan, who was just silently watching what was going on. "Oh! I almost forgot Trish!" she mumbled.
"I got to go!" she said to her manager, then ran towards Tristan.
"She's not fond of skinship, Whifler. I think she's fond of running around." Tristan whispered to Whifler while looking at Summer, approaching.
Summer clung her arms around Tristan's arms when she came closer to him. "Let's go!" she said enthusiastically then started to walk with him.
"Ah. Miss Summer." They both stopped, then glanced at Melissa.
"Yes?" Summer asked.
"Uh, Brandon said a lot of people were waiting for you at the exit. You shouldn't go by yourself. We'll accompany you," Melissa answered.
"Oh, really? Prepare my pen then." Summer replied.
Melissa blinked her eyes in confusion, "Ahm. For what Miss Summer?"
Summer's brows furrowed, "Uh, autograph?"
"Hah?! B-but, Manager Go didn't instruct anything to do like this!"
"Tell him on the way," Summer replied to Melissa, then continued to walk with Trish.
"B-but, Miss Summer!" Summer turned her head to look at Melissa.
"Come on, we must not let their waiting come to naught." she winked.
Melissa flinched, and couldn't do anything but panic. 'Ahh... Manager will really kill me!'
As they reached the exit, loud cheers and joyous screams were uncontrollable.
Summer started smiling and waving at her enthusiastic fans. They were standing outside the barricades that had been prepared before they arrived.
Tristan, on the other hand, felt dizzy and nauseous.
The chaotic voices of the people caused him a rapid heartbeat.
He couldn't clearly see anything. It seemed like he couldn't focus on everything around him. They were all blurry and spinning. His knees gradually weakened.
The noise of the crowd became more terrifying. It kept on banging to his ears and got more sound like a chorus of monsters for him.
He was startled when he felt Whifler's hand on his shoulder. Whifler pulled him closer and then called Summer who was busy signing to her fans. She immediately looked at Whifler.
"We will just wait for you in the car," Whifler said, then left with Tristan after Summer agreed.
Whifler opened the front seat's door—as they arrived—for Tristan, then he got into the driver's seat as well, after him. Tristan was still panting while holding his chest.
"It's okay. Breathe. Just Breathe slowly," Whifler said, patting his back.
Tristan squeezed his collar while inhaling and exhaling his breath. He gradually became calm and steady after a couple of minutes.
"Are you fine now?" Whifler asked, checking on him.
He nodded in response.
"Do you want to go home?" Whifler suggested, but he just received an unbelievable look from Tristan.
"Of course not. I should do this." Tristan drank the bottled water, Whifler just handed.
"Don't stress yourself too much," Whifler worriedly said.
"I can handle this."
"Tristan... You still have time to think about it. I know Summer will understand." Tristan unamusedly looked at Whifler after what he said.
"Understand, what? Whifler... If I will avoid this now, how can I be ready?" Tristan retorted which Whifler didn't like.
"This is not the right time to argue about that, Tristan. You're not in good condition! Look at you! You look unwell. Yes you can be ready but what about your wellbeing?"
"Does that matter now?" Tristan deadpanned
Whifler was riled up. "What kind of question is that? Of course!"
"Will it still matter tomorrow? The next day? Next week? Or when I will finally out?"
Whifler sighed out of frustration, "It will always matter."
"Really? Does the real Trish have this? Will it still matter when everyone sees me like this?"
Whifler paused for a moment; he could feel Tristan's emotions surging. "Enough. This conversation won't go anywhere."
"Of course! Just like this whole plan If I won't be ready and mess up."
"I said enough, Tristan!" Whifler was trying his best to calm himself for Tristan's sake.
Tristan on the other hand was spiraling out of control, his fist were clenched, his chest pounding. The tension of their exchange only fed the remnants of his fading panic attack. "You know what matters most? For me to perfectly copy her."
"That's not it!"
"Yes it is! Don't you get it? It's the only reason I matter at all! This is all I have, Whifler. My only purpose. My only use! That's why I can't fail. I should never fail."
"Okay. I will not be with you wherever you go. So, if you need help, just text or call me."
"Alright. Thanks."
They both looked at the backseat's door as it opened. Summer got into the car and smiled at them.
"Let's go?" she excitedly said.
"Where to?" Whifler asked.
"I thought about this since yesterday and we haven't been able to go there together yet. Amusement Park!!"
Tristan flinched and Whifler quickly looked at Tristan.
"Bu—" he stopped when Tristan glanced at him.
"Let's go." He calmly said.
Whifler worriedly nodded, then started the engine.
'It was too crowded there', he thought.