Back in his apartment, Leo shook off the thoughts about Star Galaxy Entertainment. None of his damn business. He was a code monkey. That glittering world of fame and fortune had nothing to do with him.
He slumped back in front of his computer, tapped at the keys for a while, but the letters and symbols in his head kept rearranging themselves into that strawberry logo.
"Fuck it." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, minimized the compiler, and his fingers, disobedient, typed "Vicky Lin" into the search bar again.
Enter.
The results were sparse. A few academic papers by someone with the same name, some irrelevant social media accounts that clearly weren't her. No photos. No relevant info. Clean as a blank sheet of paper.
This wasn't normal. With a face like hers, she'd stand out in any crowd. How could there be zero trace of her online?
He tried "Star Galaxy new trainee," "Star Galaxy Vicky Lin."
Only official company press releases came up, promoting the few trainees who already had some fame, or some vague, gossipy forum posts. Nothing useful.
Leo leaned back. His chair groaned in protest. He stared at the screen, the curiosity he'd forcibly suppressed now bubbling up again.
This girl was hiding herself way too well.
He absently clicked open a small, niche film forum he frequented. It was full of industry fringe types shooting the breeze, occasionally leaking some real tidbits.
He scrolled aimlessly through posts—mostly fan wars and meaningless chatter. Just as he was about to close it, an inconspicuous title caught his eye.
「Rational Discussion: Is Star Galaxy Hiding Another Ace? Talking about the legendary 'V'.」
The post wasn't hot, only a few dozen replies. Posted a month ago.
OP: 「Heard from a friend in the industry over drinks that Star Galaxy is secretly training a phenomenal talent, codename 'V'. Looks and skills are next-level ACE material. Locked down tight, not a whisper leaked. Waiting for the right moment to blow up the stage.」
The replies were all over the place. Some mocked the OP for dreaming, some guessed it was an already-public trainee, a few others chimed in vaguely.
「I've heard a little about this too. Said to be stunning, but the company is protecting her like a treasure, security's ironclad.」
「Might not be baseless. Last time I was waiting for my bias at the Star Galaxy building, I think I caught a glimpse of a side profile. Absolutely unreal, but didn't see the full face.」
Leo scrolled quickly, his eyes scanning the replies.
Until he saw one with a picture.
A user called "RumorsArePoison" had posted a blurry photo with the caption: 「Risked my neck to snap this. Mirror reflection in the practice room. Blurry as hell, but make do. This one?」
The photo was extremely low-resolution, the lighting dim. You could barely make out a girl's silhouette facing the practice room mirror. She wore loose training clothes, figure slender, neck long and graceful. The face was a blurry mess, little more than an outline, but a high nose bridge and a clean jawline were visible.
No clear features.
But that vague outline, that cold, focused posture…
Leo's heart skipped a beat, oddly.
He sat up straight, leaning close to the screen, almost glaring into the pixels.
Like her.
And yet, not.
The silhouette radiated a strange sharpness and intensity. Even through the garbage-tier quality, the eyes felt icy, focused. Completely different from the girl he'd seen—the one crying messily in the stairwell, flustered and pale-faced.
The innocent, book-hugging freshman walking timidly by the wall during the day.
The figure curled into a sobbing ball at night.
And now this cold, blurred silhouette of 'V' glowing from the screen.
The three images clashed, overlapped, and separated in his mind.
His fingers felt stiff. He subconsciously right-clicked and saved the blurry image. Then he closed the tab irritably.
"Losing it," he cursed himself, rubbing his face hard.
What did a silhouette prove? Plenty of people had similar profiles. Must be a coincidence.
But he sat there, not moving. Couldn't type a single line of code.
The room was dead quiet, only the low hum of the computer fan.
Not a sound came from next door either.
Leo turned his head, his gaze landing on the thin wall between them.
Just what kind of person lived on the other side of that wall?