Chapter 30
◎ Fair Enough ◎
In the dream, Cecil was always wrapped tightly in a long robe, either lying down or sitting.
The young man currently gripping the door handle, however, wore a simple black T-shirt. A tracksuit jacket with a number printed on it was tied casually around his waist, accentuating his lean, powerful waistline.
Having just finished a dance, he lowered his head and shook his damp bangs. Without a word, he took the soda can from Berlin’s hand. His index finger hooked the tab and popped it open with a crisp hiss.
Berlin was momentarily stunned. He tilted his head, watching as the other naturally reached out to take the other can of coffee Berlin was holding, handing the opened one back to him in exchange.
The action was so natural that Berlin stared blankly at Cecil for a moment before taking the can. He smiled. “Have you ever been to the rooftop? I planted some flowers there two years ago. Want to go see them?”
Cecil nodded slightly without hesitation. Coffee in hand, hanging by his side, he made to walk out.
“Wait a second, put on a jacket.” Berlin pointed upwards. “It’s still pretty cold up there.”
The other trainees were itching to follow, curious, but they reasoned that since Berlin had come specifically for A1, it might be some confidential company plan. Interrupting rashly would seem tactless.
Watching A1 bend down, grab his jacket with one hand, and walk out, the trainees’ eyes filled with envy.
Berlin greeted them, waving his hand. “Keep practicing, everyone. I’ll treat you all to sugar-free milk tea later.”
A small cheer erupted behind them as they left.
A few trainees with colorful dyed hair wiped sweat from their collars, walked a couple of steps to close the door, and poked their heads out curiously. Watching Berlin and Cecil walk away one after the other, they thought enviously that Skye’s manager must have mentioned him to them. Maybe the ‘Eternal A1’ wouldn’t have to endure years of being a trainee like they thought; Class A might be losing a member very soon.
What did the entertainment industry fear about a stone face? With those visuals and skills, it was enough. Plenty of people couldn’t even manage that and still got work.
“Sigh, when will we be able to debut…”
“Just endure it. This industry is all about endurance. You endure as a trainee before debut, and you endure waiting to get famous after debut. There’s plenty of enduring left, haha.”
“Alright, alright, get back here, you guys.”
Cecil’s ears twitched slightly, but his expression didn’t change.
He lowered his head, expressionlessly pulling the tab on his own can, and casually tossed the trash into a bin in the corridor.
Berlin noticed that Cecil’s movements were slow, as if he needed a moment to process before reacting to every step. Cecil glanced at the coffee in his hand without any emotion, then at the jacket he was holding. He frowned in thought for a moment, then methodically held the soda can in his mouth and put on his jacket as he walked.
It was a simple windbreaker. A swaying black earring was faintly visible amidst his messy hair.
They were about half a step apart. Berlin intentionally lagged behind to observe him silently.
The blue tracksuit jacket tied at his waist was just visible beneath the windbreaker. Cecil stopped and looked back. “You’re looking at me.”
Caught in the act, Berlin tilted his head with a righteous, beaming smile. “Yep, I’m looking at you.”
Cecil fell silent. “…”
He reached out and pressed the up button. The elevator doors slid open slowly. He didn’t enter immediately but reached out to block the door, turning his face to look at Berlin expressionlessly.
Berlin hesitated for half a second before walking into the elevator.
Only after Berlin stood firm did Cecil stride in and press the button for the top floor.
As the numbers climbed, Berlin couldn’t suppress his curiosity. “Why did you think to block the door for me?”
“…” Cecil’s expression was faint. He was like a machine with slightly faulty parts—his reactions oscillating between sluggish and swift. He leaned back against the handrail inside the elevator. His striking features still glowed handsomely under the overhead light, which meant that despite his slow reaction speed, he didn’t provoke impatience or annoyance.
After a long while, the corner of his mouth ticked up in a shallow arc. “Berlin can’t get hurt.”
Berlin didn’t know whether to laugh or not. He pointed silently at the elevator doors. “Uh, it’s just a door.”
Cecil shook his head. “No. I’ve been caught by an elevator door before.”
The handsome guy, who would look perfectly at home on a high school confession wall, stated expressionlessly, “It hurts.”
Berlin: “…”
As expected, there was something a little off about this Cecil.
The rooftop was a place Berlin frequented.
The reason he came often was that the open-air top floor was the only place without surveillance cameras.
Big data would push related content even without keywords, which led to Berlin accidentally seeing a post on Xiaohongshu where a temporary company employee had secretly snapped a photo of a surveillance monitor and uploaded it.
The content released wasn’t anything special—just Berlin talking to Hua Yan—but it made Berlin uncomfortable.
Berlin walked a circle to confirm no other employees were around, then relaxed, propped himself up on the platform, hopped up to sit, and patted the spot next to him. “Sit.”
He had many questions, such as whether this Cecil in front of him was the same one from his dreams.
Cecil sat down on the platform as told, one long leg resting on the ground, leaning back on both arms.
The sunlight was plentiful. Berlin was surprised to see Cecil relax and curl the corners of his mouth comfortably.
Berlin asked tentatively, “Do you really like sunbathing?”
“Maybe.” The smile vanished in a flash. Cecil tilted his head back slightly to look at him. “I don’t know.”
Over the next few minutes, Berlin gathered quite a bit of useful information and made a simple summary in his mind.
This trainee Cecil was just eighteen according to his ID.
He had a reasonable life trajectory in this world; at least on the surface, there were no issues.
He attended an art high school overseas and had just returned to the country six months ago. He had participated in GNK’s global auditions overseas, was selected, and flew back specifically to become a trainee and prepare for debut.
As for anything related to the dreams, he knew nothing. He had no memory of it whatsoever.
Berlin tried to ask indirectly if Cecil had any special abilities, since Cecil had personally said in the dream that he was no longer purely human.
But throughout the communication process, he couldn’t get the answer he wanted.
“Do you think someone could jump,” Berlin pointed to the GNK building beneath their feet, then to the commercial building opposite, “from here to there?”
He originally thought that since Cecil was a bit slow, he might just blurt out the truth—a werewolf self-destruct (Wu Hengyao: Achoo)—and admit he could do it himself.
Unexpectedly, Cecil thought for a moment and did answer “Yes.” But he immediately followed it up with a deadpan: “Spider-Man.”
Berlin: “……”
Okay, fair enough.
Thinking of the classic identity-reveal scene in the movie Mr. & Mrs. Smith, Berlin hesitated, then tried knocking the coffee can sitting on the ledge off the edge.
It was a conditioned reflex carved into one’s DNA; if Cecil had latent abilities Berlin didn’t know about, he should catch it with a reaction speed hard to capture with the naked eye.
However, Cecil didn’t move a muscle.
The coffee smashed onto the ground, splashing everywhere. Berlin thought with annoyance that he shouldn’t cause trouble for the cleaning staff and would have to go downstairs to get tools to clean it up later.
Cecil looked at the spilled coffee and paused.
He frowned slightly, his upper body leaning towards Berlin.
Berlin turned to look at him, confused, and instinctively wanted to lean back.
“Don’t move.”
Cecil spoke seriously, reaching out to gently brush Berlin’s collar.
He lowered his eyes slightly, his thumb wiping away a coffee stain on the fabric.
Berlin’s white jacket now had a distinct mark.
Cecil, having failed to save it, stated the fact with a frown: “What to do? Your clothes are dirty.”
Opposite Building.
A paparazzi, dead set on snapping content related to Skye to earn some traffic, had bought inside information from GNK claiming Berlin liked to get fresh air on the rooftop.
With a try-your-luck attitude, he chose a spot with a clear view and squatted there with his camera.
Unexpectedly, he actually caught him.
He excitedly snapped a few photos before calming down and reviewing them with regret: None of them were usable.
Two guys drinking coffee together? Even a passing dog wouldn’t care to look at that.
There had to be something special. But since Skye would be training at the company for a month, he planned to squat here recently to see if he could catch anything else.
Also, who was the unfamiliar face next to him? He looked like an artist too, but the paparazzi had no impression of that face.
Were they friends, or just ordinary colleagues? Was there anything there to dig up?
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