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Behind The Spotlight
- Thread starter Pujimaki
- Start date
Chapter 135
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Pujimaki
Padoru padoru
- Joined
- Sep 8, 2022
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Behind The Spotlight Chapter 135
Collin was holding a flower gently in his hands, the petals trembling slightly as he walked through the cemetery. His solemn expression carried a heavy weight.
He hadn't attended on the exact day of his friend's, Vale Ashford's, death anniversary because he couldn't bear to face his family. He simply couldn't bring himself to look at them or at his friend's other mourners, afraid that his guilt would spill over.
No one had ever blamed Collin for what happened, yet he blamed himself. At that time, he told his friend that doing it might not be worth it, and he had meant every word. He tried to convince him that it was wrong, but his words weren't strong enough, not forceful enough to stop him. He regretted not being more persistent, replaying the scene in his head countless times. If he had known the consequences, he would have punched him in the stomach right in front of the old hag, made him faint if he had to, and carried him out of that casting couch, even if it meant fighting against dozens of bodyguards.
He blamed himself for not seeing the signs that his friend's spirit was being crushed quietly, unnoticed by everyone, until Vale's will to live broke bit by bit.
When he reached the grave, he found another man sitting beside it, staring blankly into the horizon while chugging a bottle of cheap alcohol.
"David... what a coincidence." Collin weakly chuckled, though the sound was hollow.
"Collin, is that you? Haha, look at you now. You seem to be doing fine. I heard you became an agent. Are you sure you can do it?" David's voice carried both nostalgia and disbelief.
"..." Collin didn't answer. He placed the flower in front of the gravestone.
In Loving Memory.
Vale Ashford.
"How are you doing, David? Still an alcoholic?" Collin asked gently.
Collin turned to his ex-agent, David Silas. David had once helped Collin and Vale build their modeling careers when they were young. After what happened to Vale, he became an alcoholic as a way to cope.
"Yeah, what can I say, I love alcohol." David had an unkempt beard and long hair that looked untouched for months. His eyes were tired, as though he wanted everything to end, perhaps even himself along with it.
"You should stop drinking. It's bad for your health."
"Haha, who the fuck are you to teach me how to live? Mind your own business and keep your judgment to yourself, Mr. East."
When Collin retired from modeling, David also resigned as an agent. Their partnership ended six years ago after they both faced the cruel realities of the industry. Collin had realized he had no future in modeling, and David no longer had the will to continue.
The two sat in silence for a while, listening to the soft wind rustling through the cemetery, until David began speaking again. His words were drunken and slurred, but full of raw regret and pain.
"Why... why didn't you talk to me first? You should have talked to me first before you made that decision."
No one answered.
"... We were asked right on the spot. Either we left or we didn't, there was no time to think or plan." Collin felt it was his responsibility to answer since the other one could not.
"Still..."
"David, even if you were there, would you have stopped Vale? Or encouraged him?" Collin turned to his ex-agent, who clutched his bottle with a shaky grip.
"..." David didn't know how to answer. Deep down, he was torn between guilt and survival. At that time, all he wanted was to earn money from his two models, ignoring the moral cost in his blind ambition. When he heard what happened between Vale and the old hag, it didn't sit well with him, but he followed the flow reluctantly, telling himself he had no choice. In truth, he was even relieved when more projects came their way, convincing himself that happiness could mask guilt. But he only began to regret it when the horror of the consequences finally hit. Since then, guilt had been eating him alive.
David weakly laughed, though it sounded more like a sob, tears welling in his eyes. Then he laughed louder, as if crying.
"David, as much as I want to say you're bad, I know you're not a bad person. We were trapped by circumstances. You protected me while I was under your contract, and I never forgot that. I don't want you to die early... Thank you for everything you did."
Collin slightly bowed in respect, turned, and walked away. David called out to him.
"Collin, don't follow my mistakes!"
The young agent didn't stop walking until he was gone, his silhouette fading beyond the gravestones. David looked at the bottle of cheap wine in his hand for a long moment, as though weighing his next choice. After a moment of contemplation, with a tiny spark of clarity, he threw the bottle away.
.........
......
...
Because Collin couldn't find a proper record label to work with, he had no choice but to look for obscure ones, the kind few people spoke about. He asked other agents if they knew of any labels he hadn't negotiated with yet. He even shamelessly asked the CEO of his company.
"You're asking me if I know a record label?" Lila Seraphina raised a brow in amusement. Collin East only visited her when he needed something, yet he always managed to look composed.
"I signed a new client, a young and talented singer with potential. Our agency also manages music artists, so I believe you may have leads on which record labels are safe, trustworthy, and capable of building her career properly."
"Yeah, I heard about that. You signed a Frenchwoman you met in Paris and were apparently impressed by her voice."
"I need to make sure the label can be trusted. I can't take any risks with this. My client is too young, and I don't want her to suffer by choosing the wrong label or being exploited. And don't include any studio related to Papa Daddy."
"If you insist. I do know a record label you can work with. It's relatively small but has trustworthy management. I also know the owner, and her intentions are sincere. In fact, I'm a co-owner of this label, so I have firsthand insight into how it operates."
"Really?" Collin was surprised.
"Well, she begged me to invest in her company, and after much persuasion, I didn't have much of a choice. She said she partnered with a famous music producer who had a solid track record..." Lila averted her gaze, hiding a hint of embarrassment. She wasn't particularly proud of this investment because it hadn't yielded any profits yet. If not for their friendship, she might not have invested at all. It was probably the only investment in her career that hadn't brought her profit... so far.
"It doesn't matter. I'm still interested in meeting the owner and learning more about the label."
Collin had already talked to nearly a hundred record labels, from the most famous to the smallest, even traveling to different states tirelessly to secure his client's future.
"This is the studio's address. You can take your client there and see for yourself if it meets your standards."
Lila wrote the address neatly on a piece of paper and handed it to him. He thanked her before leaving her office.
"... That guy never changes. He always puts everything into whatever he sets his mind on." She lightly giggled and shook her head in amusement.
Later that day, Collin contacted Chantal and Isabella to visit the studio Lila had recommended.
The three were confused when they arrived and realized the address pointed to an apartment complex that looked ordinary and worn down. The faded walls and peeling paint gave it a neglected appearance. The broken elevator didn't help, and the narrow, steep stairs made the climb exhausting.
They asked the old man at the reception desk if there was a studio in the building. He nodded and told them it was on the sixth floor, the highest one.
And so, the three of them began the climb.
Collin was holding a flower gently in his hands, the petals trembling slightly as he walked through the cemetery. His solemn expression carried a heavy weight.
He hadn't attended on the exact day of his friend's, Vale Ashford's, death anniversary because he couldn't bear to face his family. He simply couldn't bring himself to look at them or at his friend's other mourners, afraid that his guilt would spill over.
No one had ever blamed Collin for what happened, yet he blamed himself. At that time, he told his friend that doing it might not be worth it, and he had meant every word. He tried to convince him that it was wrong, but his words weren't strong enough, not forceful enough to stop him. He regretted not being more persistent, replaying the scene in his head countless times. If he had known the consequences, he would have punched him in the stomach right in front of the old hag, made him faint if he had to, and carried him out of that casting couch, even if it meant fighting against dozens of bodyguards.
He blamed himself for not seeing the signs that his friend's spirit was being crushed quietly, unnoticed by everyone, until Vale's will to live broke bit by bit.
When he reached the grave, he found another man sitting beside it, staring blankly into the horizon while chugging a bottle of cheap alcohol.
"David... what a coincidence." Collin weakly chuckled, though the sound was hollow.
"Collin, is that you? Haha, look at you now. You seem to be doing fine. I heard you became an agent. Are you sure you can do it?" David's voice carried both nostalgia and disbelief.
"..." Collin didn't answer. He placed the flower in front of the gravestone.
In Loving Memory.
Vale Ashford.
"How are you doing, David? Still an alcoholic?" Collin asked gently.
Collin turned to his ex-agent, David Silas. David had once helped Collin and Vale build their modeling careers when they were young. After what happened to Vale, he became an alcoholic as a way to cope.
"Yeah, what can I say, I love alcohol." David had an unkempt beard and long hair that looked untouched for months. His eyes were tired, as though he wanted everything to end, perhaps even himself along with it.
"You should stop drinking. It's bad for your health."
"Haha, who the fuck are you to teach me how to live? Mind your own business and keep your judgment to yourself, Mr. East."
When Collin retired from modeling, David also resigned as an agent. Their partnership ended six years ago after they both faced the cruel realities of the industry. Collin had realized he had no future in modeling, and David no longer had the will to continue.
The two sat in silence for a while, listening to the soft wind rustling through the cemetery, until David began speaking again. His words were drunken and slurred, but full of raw regret and pain.
"Why... why didn't you talk to me first? You should have talked to me first before you made that decision."
No one answered.
"... We were asked right on the spot. Either we left or we didn't, there was no time to think or plan." Collin felt it was his responsibility to answer since the other one could not.
"Still..."
"David, even if you were there, would you have stopped Vale? Or encouraged him?" Collin turned to his ex-agent, who clutched his bottle with a shaky grip.
"..." David didn't know how to answer. Deep down, he was torn between guilt and survival. At that time, all he wanted was to earn money from his two models, ignoring the moral cost in his blind ambition. When he heard what happened between Vale and the old hag, it didn't sit well with him, but he followed the flow reluctantly, telling himself he had no choice. In truth, he was even relieved when more projects came their way, convincing himself that happiness could mask guilt. But he only began to regret it when the horror of the consequences finally hit. Since then, guilt had been eating him alive.
David weakly laughed, though it sounded more like a sob, tears welling in his eyes. Then he laughed louder, as if crying.
"David, as much as I want to say you're bad, I know you're not a bad person. We were trapped by circumstances. You protected me while I was under your contract, and I never forgot that. I don't want you to die early... Thank you for everything you did."
Collin slightly bowed in respect, turned, and walked away. David called out to him.
"Collin, don't follow my mistakes!"
The young agent didn't stop walking until he was gone, his silhouette fading beyond the gravestones. David looked at the bottle of cheap wine in his hand for a long moment, as though weighing his next choice. After a moment of contemplation, with a tiny spark of clarity, he threw the bottle away.
.........
......
...
Because Collin couldn't find a proper record label to work with, he had no choice but to look for obscure ones, the kind few people spoke about. He asked other agents if they knew of any labels he hadn't negotiated with yet. He even shamelessly asked the CEO of his company.
"You're asking me if I know a record label?" Lila Seraphina raised a brow in amusement. Collin East only visited her when he needed something, yet he always managed to look composed.
"I signed a new client, a young and talented singer with potential. Our agency also manages music artists, so I believe you may have leads on which record labels are safe, trustworthy, and capable of building her career properly."
"Yeah, I heard about that. You signed a Frenchwoman you met in Paris and were apparently impressed by her voice."
"I need to make sure the label can be trusted. I can't take any risks with this. My client is too young, and I don't want her to suffer by choosing the wrong label or being exploited. And don't include any studio related to Papa Daddy."
"If you insist. I do know a record label you can work with. It's relatively small but has trustworthy management. I also know the owner, and her intentions are sincere. In fact, I'm a co-owner of this label, so I have firsthand insight into how it operates."
"Really?" Collin was surprised.
"Well, she begged me to invest in her company, and after much persuasion, I didn't have much of a choice. She said she partnered with a famous music producer who had a solid track record..." Lila averted her gaze, hiding a hint of embarrassment. She wasn't particularly proud of this investment because it hadn't yielded any profits yet. If not for their friendship, she might not have invested at all. It was probably the only investment in her career that hadn't brought her profit... so far.
"It doesn't matter. I'm still interested in meeting the owner and learning more about the label."
Collin had already talked to nearly a hundred record labels, from the most famous to the smallest, even traveling to different states tirelessly to secure his client's future.
"This is the studio's address. You can take your client there and see for yourself if it meets your standards."
Lila wrote the address neatly on a piece of paper and handed it to him. He thanked her before leaving her office.
"... That guy never changes. He always puts everything into whatever he sets his mind on." She lightly giggled and shook her head in amusement.
Later that day, Collin contacted Chantal and Isabella to visit the studio Lila had recommended.
The three were confused when they arrived and realized the address pointed to an apartment complex that looked ordinary and worn down. The faded walls and peeling paint gave it a neglected appearance. The broken elevator didn't help, and the narrow, steep stairs made the climb exhausting.
They asked the old man at the reception desk if there was a studio in the building. He nodded and told them it was on the sixth floor, the highest one.
And so, the three of them began the climb.