PBS - Chapter 1
Chapter 1
“Is that him?”
In the not-so-crowded throng, I heard that question again.
But it wasn't directed at me, so I couldn't be bothered to answer.
A few seconds later, I heard another voice say uncertainly, “It should be him, right?”
I rolled my eyes internally. Duh.
Why don't people do their homework before a job? If you don't even recognize the person, how can you have the basic self-respect of a member of the Water Army?
My internal monologue was one thing, but in the next second, a brilliant smile blossomed on my face.
Because the person we were waiting for had appeared.
I didn't need a mirror or a selfie to know that my eyes were surely filled with excitement.
I'm not like them. I have professional integrity.
For this job as an airport fan, not being enthusiastic is basically getting paid for nothing. As a professional, I despise those hired fans who can't even recognize the person and shout the wrong name.
I was the first to raise the banner in my hands, shouting at the man in sunglasses who had just emerged from the exit, “Xiao Zhou! Xiao Zhou!”
My voice cracked a little toward the end, and I couldn't help but lower my head and cough slightly.
In that brief moment, the few people next to me, after a slight pause, started shouting along with me. Before long, we had surrounded today's “client.”
“Ah Zhou, I loved your portrayal of the prince! When he died in the finale, I cried so hard.”
“Ah Zhou, can you give me an autograph? This is my first time being a fan, I really love you so much.”
“Stay away from Zhouzhou! Don't crowd him!”
This client, Xiao Zhou, was much like the previous ones—a small-time celebrity who couldn't even be considered 18th-tier.
I had already looked up his encyclopedia page, but unfortunately, it was mostly empty and not very interesting, with only some superficial information available.
Xiao Zhou is 22 this year, a graduate of some teachers' college where he majored in design. Later, by a stroke of luck, he became an actor.
They called it a stroke of luck, but you didn't have to think too hard to know he got in through the back door.
So far, he has only acted in one web drama, playing the second male lead whose character was even better written than the main protagonist's.
He had pinned his hopes on this web drama, wanting to use it to skyrocket to fame and gain a large number of fans.
The result, of course, was less than satisfactory. The web drama flopped so hard its own mother wouldn't recognize it—otherwise, I wouldn't be here.
Would a famous person need to hire people to greet them at the airport? Hiring bodyguards would be more like it.
But Xiao Zhou had the heart of an aspiring top-traffic star. So, even though he was just in Yuncheng for a shopping trip, he had his team hire a group of offline members of the Water Army to greet him at the airport to show off his popularity.
If it weren't for the decent pay, I probably wouldn't have come.
Among the people who showed up, only two were his real fans. They were the ones who gave me the banner I was holding—it seems they already knew the truth of the matter.
Xiao Zhou took off his sunglasses. Two assistants had come with him; one took the sunglasses and placed them in an exquisite case, while the other handed him a marker.
He cleared his throat softly and revealed a smile. “Thank you all for your support. I'll keep working hard to bring everyone better projects.”
I think this might be the best acting performance of his career.
After speaking, he even made a “fighting” gesture, a faint smile lingering on his lips.
The hired photographer standing nearby pressed the shutter, capturing that smile.
After he finished signing for the person next to me, I handed him the small notebook I had prepared, blinked at him, and recited my own prepared lines.
“Ah Zhou, did you know? I especially love that energy you have when you act. I watched the behind-the-scenes footage for The Good-for-nothing Princess Consort, and oh my god…” I acted as if I was at a loss for words. “It's really, really…”
The Good-for-nothing Princess Consort was the drama he was in. The female lead ended up wandering the world with the male lead, while he, as the second male lead, was left to live a lonely life.
Lying is such a difficult task. It's true I watched a bit of the behind-the-scenes footage, but that “energy” was something I completely made up.
If he actually had that “energy,” I wouldn't be here, would I!
Being this close, I could see him more clearly. Xiao Zhou was actually a little handsome and quite tall. At one meter sixty-five, I was a good bit shorter than him.
But in the entertainment industry, which has no shortage of handsome men and beautiful women, his level of handsomeness was negligible.
I was wearing a mask that covered most of my face. The surroundings hadn't quieted down yet, and someone was maintaining order.
In the vast, bright airport arrivals hall, the commotion we were making drew the gazes of passersby. Some even took out their phones to take pictures or record videos.
Xiao Zhou was in the middle of signing for me. After hearing my heartfelt and sincere praise, he glanced up at me, his hand pausing for a moment as if to add a few more words.
Once he finished, I maintained my adoring gaze and gently took the small notebook. I had no intention of looking at it closely, but I acted as if I had received a rare treasure, carefully placing it in my bag.
After a while, Xiao Zhou had signed enough autographs. His goal had been achieved. An assistant put on a show, saying, “Thank you all for your support, but Zhouzhou has a busy schedule… Please be safe on your way home!”
Xiao Zhou smiled and waved at everyone, gave a bow, and then turned and strode away with his assistants, looking like he was in a hurry.
Watching his retreating back, I twitched the corner of my mouth. A busy schedule…?
With that, the day's work was over. The crowd dispersed, and I headed for the underground parking garage.
Before long, I had driven away from the airport.
I went home first, took a shower, and then had a nap. After waking up, I ordered takeout and waited for my friend to come back.
My friend's name is Xie Ying. I met her at a bar a couple of years ago. We hit it off immediately, and it wasn't long before we both moved out of our family homes to rent a place together.
As for me, I wanted to rent out my own family's house and become a landlady, just collecting rent every quarter, even though I'm currently renting someone else's place.
She, on the other hand, felt constrained living at home and had long wanted to move out. After meeting me, she felt the timing was perfect. We clicked, she told her family, and moved out.
Neither of us has a steady job. We do whatever we want, but usually, clients come to us rather than us seeking out work.
My job today was to be a fan greeting someone at the airport, and Xie Ying's job was similar. She went to a mall to be a fan and shout slogans for another 18th-tier celebrity.
I've done that kind of job before. I was younger then and didn't know much about this line of work.
I was almost pulled on stage by the host to answer questions about the celebrity. That was the first time I thought my professional reputation was about to be ruined. I thought I just had to shout some slogans; who knew there was a whole segment like that? I barely knew anything about that celebrity, okay? I could handle superficial questions, but anything deeper and I would have definitely been exposed. Luckily, a real fan next to me eagerly went up, letting me escape.
Recalling those past experiences, I can't help but wipe away a tear of hardship. Fortunately, I've made it through and have never been in such a panicked situation again.
When Xie Ying came back, I was lying on the sofa, legs crossed, leisurely sucking on a popsicle.
She leaned against the wall to change her shoes, and I heard her complaining before I even saw her face.
She said, “Ah, for fuck's sake.”
My gaze returned to my tablet, and I asked indistinctly, “What's wrong?”
“I got called on stage to be a model today and was asked a ton of questions. Fuck, I died on the spot.” She tossed her bag aside and went into the bathroom in her flip-flops.
I called toward the open bathroom door, asking curiously, “What kind of model?”
“A hair model. The event Zhao Qi was at today was for shampoo and conditioner.”
Zhao Qi was the celebrity Xie Ying went to see today.
The sound of trickling water came from the bathroom. I said, “Oh,” and teased with a laugh, “That's not so bad, is it? You got paid and got a free hair wash, hahaha.”
When Xie Ying came out, she started taking off her clothes again and threw them at me. “Bullshit.”
I caught her T-shirt and heard her say, “The shampoo and conditioner I normally use are way better than that stuff from the event, okay! If my beautiful hair gets damaged, I'll never forgive that micro-business brand.” She walked into the bedroom wearing just her underwear.
Xie Ying's hair was indeed very good. To this day, she had never dyed or permed it. It was jet-black, smooth, and showed no signs of split ends. It was good enough to be in a commercial.
I draped her clothes over the sofa, slowly sat up cross-legged, threw the finished popsicle stick into the trash, and pointed at the takeout on the coffee table. “Time to eat soon.”
“Okay.” Xie Ying was quick, emerging in a silk camisole.
She sat down on a small stool, flicked her hair back, and asked out of habit, “How was the guy you saw today?”
Sometimes, after work, we would sit and chat just like this, as if we were giving work reports.
“Hmm?” I registered her question. “Oh, him. He was just okay, no different from the others I've seen. I couldn't even be bothered to look at the autograph.”
Xie Ying sighed. “Ai.”
I unwrapped my chopsticks. “What are you sighing for?”
“Can these 18th-tier celebrities even get famous? If they do, will anyone buy our autographs for a high price? I'm still counting on that whole drawer of autographs to turn into real cash.”
I couldn't help but laugh. “I don't think they'll make it big. Minor fame can be bought, but major stardom depends on fate.”
Thinking of this, I turned around a bit and took out the autograph I got from Xiao Zhou today from my bag.
I tossed it onto the coffee table, jutted out my chin, and said, “I'll bet on this one. This autograph's value will definitely go up. Since I started in this business, this is the first time I've seen someone pay four hundred yuan for a hired fan. What does that mean? It means they have money. And if they have money and are still willing to promote him, minor fame is practically guaranteed in the future.”
But I still hadn't looked at what was written on the autograph. Sometimes you get a personalized one, but usually, it's just a simple signature, and some of them have ugly handwriting. I had no interest in looking at it at all.
Xie Ying picked it up and opened it. I had just opened my food container and hadn't even smelled the aroma of the food when I heard her exclaim.
“Holy shit.”
She was sitting across from me. I lifted my eyelids to look at her and asked, “What's wrong? Is his handwriting really nice?”
“No.” Xie Ying turned the signed page toward me. “He also wrote down his WeChat ID for you to add him.”
I took it and glanced at it. It was true. Xiao Zhou had written his WeChat ID.
Before I could say anything, I heard Xie Ying clucking her tongue in amazement. “Lu Zhi, oh, Lu Zhi, can't you share some of that romantic luck with me?”
I raised an eyebrow and said unhurriedly—
“Ultimately, it still comes down to looks. You know what I mean?”
She grabbed a tissue from the coffee table, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it at me. “Fuck you.”
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