[Chapter 53: The News]
The nagging, insistent alarm playing the catchy hook of Old Town Road echoed through the room.
Orlando reached out from the soft mattress at the Four Seasons and shut off the alarm.
He opened his eyes, stared at the hotel ceiling for a few seconds, then let out a long sigh. Lowering his gaze, he looked at the beautiful Latina woman nestled in his arms.
Last night, Jennifer was still a little upset, a bit jealous, when they got back to the hotel.
The reason was obvious -- Orlando's record label had just signed a stunning new female artist the day before.
Signing new talent was standard practice for a record label.
Jennifer had no real reason to be jealous.
But everyone at the company knew she was Orlando's girlfriend, although it wasn't public yet.
Plus, Shania Twain was genuinely beautiful.
What made it worse was the rumor already spreading around the label -- that Orlando had written sixteen songs the very moment he met her!
What woman could handle her boyfriend's attention swinging like that?
Naturally, Jennifer was struggling with it too.
Last night she wanted to throw a little fit at Orlando.
But when they met, he surprised her with a necklace from Tiffany's -- a vintage-style gold and onyx piece from their 1990 summer collection, priced at $35,000.
Just to be clear, his relationship with Shania was strictly professional.
Shania Twain was a much-needed signing for the label -- a singer who could pull off that country vibe.
Orlando's heart was still more with Jennifer.
Even if it meant stirring up some fake romance rumors with Shania -- like the ones he'd had with Madonna before -- it was all just for publicity, to boost record sales.
He'd promised Jennifer that once all this calmed down, he'd write her new songs or find her some movie roles to help her career take off.
That was enough to cheer Jennifer up instantly.
Still, Orlando's telepathy told him Jennifer's calm exterior was just that -- a cover.
But it didn't matter.
As long as she played along in private and didn't cause a scene in public, he was fine with it.
He got out of bed, brushed his teeth, washed his face, and headed to the suite's living room to have breakfast.
---
Diana, Orlando's real assistant, delivered the morning newspapers, neatly stacked beside an antique centerpiece on the dining table.
The New York Post headline read: Madonna hints on the latest Oprah show that prodigy Orlando Keller's talents go beyond his songwriting genius!
Hollywood Daily reported: Madonna's not lying! Our team invited private detectives, top journalists, and former federal agents to verify hundreds of photos of Orlando out in public. From these images, speculation suggests...
The Wall Street Journal mentioned: Rumors say Ralph Lauren is interested in signing Orlando Keller as their brand ambassador. This move sparked skepticism on Wall Street, doubting the brand's tone matches Orlando's youthful image, but...
Diana had arranged the newspapers so that all front-page stories about Orlando were on top.
Orlando couldn't help but roll his eyes.
Because of Madonna's hint on Oprah, at least two-thirds of the coverage obsessively focused on his "package" or certain other abilities.
As a guy, that kind of talk did boost his ego a little.
But he wasn't the type to seek attention through that kind of hype!
The remaining third dealt with more normal topics -- his EP's musical direction, his commercial value, and so on.
There were also societal and international headlines.
For example, the Washington Post front page reported that Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein recently accused Kuwait of "stealing oil resources" and threatened military action.
The Post also covered today's warning from the U.S. Secretary of State, stating any aggression toward Kuwait would "seriously threaten regional stability."
The Pentagon confirmed deploying two destroyers to the Persian Gulf to "monitor the situation."
Tensions in the Middle East triggered global oil price fluctuations, with New York crude futures hitting $21 a barrel today.
Is it starting?
Orlando frowned.
He remembered that a storm would hit the desert region this year or next -- but he couldn't recall the exact timing.
Since he was born in the 1990s in his past life, he wasn't too clear on these details.
Still, he planned to call his financial advisor later -- Brand from Goldman Sachs. Maybe he could make some quick cash from this desert storm.
He spent half an hour eating breakfast -- naturally, including reading the papers.
It was still early.
---
Following his usual routine, Orlando headed down to the private third-floor gym at the Four Seasons.
As he circled the gym and prepared to hop on a treadmill, he spotted a familiar face.
"Shania, good morning! You're working out too?"
Indeed, it was Shania.
She'd flown in directly from Canada yesterday with her manager, Mary Bailey.
She didn't have a place to stay yet, and Mary had rushed back overnight to handle family matters.
The company arranged for Shania to stay temporarily at the Four Seasons, where they had a long-term lease on a suite.
Today they planned to find her a place to live in Manhattan.
Shania wore a black velour top and tight black leggings, her hair casually pinned up, showing off her great figure.
She looked a little nervous but smiled softly.
"Yeah. Boss, do you work out often?"
"Pretty much every day," Orlando replied, frowning as he noticed Shania's face looked pale, almost drained.
His telepathy picked up on something -- she wasn't here to work out.
She was still too hyped from signing the record contract yesterday. She'd barely slept last night and woke up early this morning.
So she came down to the gym early to pass the time.
"Shania, you don't look well. Are you sick?"
"No, it's just..." she hesitated to admit she hadn't slept well. "Maybe I just haven't had much appetite lately."
"If you're feeling off, why don't you head back to your room and rest? It's still early."
"I'm fine," she insisted.
Orlando tried to persuade her a bit more, but she stood firm, so he let it be.
---
They started jogging side by side on two adjacent treadmills.
He kept watching her expression -- something was definitely off.
Noticing his gaze, she turned and gave him a quick smile before suddenly collapsing.
Orlando's heart jumped.
How did she just fall like that?
He rushed to help her up from the floor.
Her face was even paler, ghostly pale, eyes shut tight.
Her left cheek was scraped from hitting the treadmill -- there were a few streaks of blood.
"Shania, wake up! Wake up!" Orlando shook her gently but got no response.
He poked her nose to check for breath -- it was faint, barely there.
Oh no!
Orlando panicked.
He had no idea why she'd passed out, but his priority was getting her to wake up.
Noticing the commotion, five or six gym guests and staff came over.
Some instantly recognized Orlando -- as he was the hottest star in town.
Orlando looked at a young woman nearby.
"Miss, do you know how to do mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?"
"I? No, I don't!" she quickly waved her hands, shaking her head.
He turned to a middle-aged woman.
"Ma'am, what about you? Can you?"
"No, I can't," the elegant woman said, though her eyes lingered on Orlando's handsome face.
"Sir, I can do mouth-to-mouth. I'm the gym's instructor and safety officer. Let me help," said a muscular guy in workout gear. After saying this, he couldn't help but take another look at the unconscious Shania.
Orlando gave him a look, not trusting him at all.
"You can give artificial respiration? I think you just want to take advantage!" he muttered.
Fine, he'd do it himself this time.
Orlando laid Shania flat on her back, took off his shirt to reveal toned muscles, and folded it under her head as a cushion.
Pinching her nose, he breathed into her mouth and gave chest compressions.
In his previous life, Orlando had received first aid training, so his technique was textbook perfect.
---
After a few minutes of CPR, drenched in sweat, Shania finally took a deep breath and came back to consciousness.
Orlando let out a deep breath, finally relaxing.
Shania looked weak -- like a fragile beauty.
She forced a smile.
"...Did I just faint?"
"Yes! You suddenly collapsed and scared me!"
"Sorry about that!"
"Don't worry. Let's get you to a hospital!"
"No need. It's nothing serious -- probably just lack of sleep and low blood sugar."
Low blood sugar?
Orlando was speechless.
'Lady, you know you have low blood sugar but still stayed up late, skipped breakfast, and came to run on the treadmill?'
*****
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