Prologue
I traded a bun for a superstar.
Three years ago, I gave a shabby-looking Jameson Hall, sitting on the street corner, a simple bun.
He pushed my wheelchair and followed me home.
Three years later, after completing my treatment, I returned to the country.
By then, Jameson had risen to fame as a popular singer, thanks to his hit single “Waiting for You.”
A famous actress posted on her social media:
[Finally found you.]
And I, sitting in my wheelchair, watched his concert, fading into the background, one dim star among countless neon lights.
1
In the airport lounge, the large screen was playing Jameson’s award-winning hit single – “Waiting for You.”
This song was Jameson’s claim to fame, a piece he wrote for the girl he loved.
Nearby, two girls were excitedly chatting, their voices occasionally reaching my ears.
“I mean, seriously, he’s just too handsome!”
The other girl, her tone full of pride, responded, “Looks are just the least of his talents. Our Jamie has real skill!”
“Hey, I got tickets to his concert! You have no idea how hard it was to get them…”
Listening to their conversation, I zoned out for a moment.
Those hard-to-get concert tickets were the best recognition Jameson could have hoped for.
He’d finally made it.
Noticing my interest, one of the girls came closer.
“Hey, are you a fan of Jamie too?”
Her eyes sparkled brighter than the stars as she spoke.
Supporting a talented idol can fill anyone with pride.
Before I could answer, a pair of hands rested on my wheelchair.
Conner Knight’s voice was cold and composed as he replied for me,
“She’s not. She doesn’t follow celebrities.”
Yeah, I’m not really into the entertainment world.
The girl seemed about to say more, but my phone rang, cutting her off.
I gave her an apologetic smile before answering the call and quickly responding to the person on the other end.
After hanging up, Conner pushed me away from the lounge.
In the car, Conner couldn’t hold back any longer and asked, “Why the sudden change of heart?”
I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, he continued, “Don’t tell me it’s because Coach Howard is back.”
He sounded so sure.
I was speechless.
Why do all therapists have such a knack for reading people’s minds?
I sighed and replied,
“Maybe.”
Who knows who I’m doing this for, really?
2
The apartment Conner helped me rent was near the training grounds.
I glanced around the room.
First floor, plenty of sunlight, large floor-to-ceiling windows.
From the location to the layout, everything was perfectly suited to my needs.
“Thanks, Dr. Knight, for helping me out this time.”
Conner hummed a response, his tone flat.
“I hope you can get better now that you’re back, Leslie.”
I forced a smile but didn’t respond.
Get better.
Those words sounded so light, as if recovery were that simple.
As Conner was leaving, he kept rattling off reminders.
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.
For someone with such a cool, distant vibe, he sure could nag.
At the door, I reminded him, “Dr. Knight, don’t forget that little favor of mine.”
“Contact me when the time comes, and also…”
He suddenly turned to look at me, his tone serious,
“Call me Conner.”
After seeing him off, my smile disappeared. I tossed the bottle of pills he’d left me into a corner.
Controlling my wheelchair, I moved back to the sofa and picked up my phone.
As soon as I unlocked it, a flood of trending news notifications popped up:
#Jameson Hall’s Rumored New Relationship##
#Top Actress Makes a Bold Public Announcement##
#Love Triumphs Over All?##
Each headline blared with urgency, grabbing my attention.
The window was open, and a breeze drifted in.
The wind stung my eyes, making them water.
And the tangled thoughts in my mind grew more chaotic.
I couldn’t pinpoint where this inexplicable feeling came from.
After a brief pause, I typed the actress’s name into the search bar, and more headlines immediately appeared.
With my emotions swirling inside, I didn’t even notice the slight tremble in my hands.
After composing myself, I hesitantly clicked on her social media profile.
Pinned to the top was her latest post:
[Finally found you. @JamesonHall.”
That sentence echoed Jameson’s hit song.
Waiting for you.
Found you.
A singer with both talent and popularity.
An actress with beauty and background.
It all seemed so…
Those words lingered on my lips, like poison, waiting to strike the moment they were spoken.
Chapter 2 Clearing the Rumors3
Restlessness overwhelmed me, and I lost control, letting my emotions spiral.
My right hand clenched tightly into a fist, and I began pounding it hard against my leg.
Again and again, without stopping.
The physical pain, coupled with the psychological torment, pushed me closer and closer to the edge of the cliff.
Suddenly, the urgent ringing of my phone pulled me back from that cliff.
I gasped for air, taking several deep breaths to suppress the agitation inside me.
“Hello, Dr. Knight… Conner.”
When I spoke, my voice was unmistakably hoarse.
Conner paused for a moment before responding: “Are you… alright?”
“I’m fine.”
After answering him, a strange silence settled between us.
In that quiet, my heartbeat quickened.
Eventually, it was Conner who hung up.
His call had interrupted my spiraling thoughts, but when I went back to check the social media post, the page wouldn’t load anymore.
Of course, the server had chosen the perfect time to crash.
Unwilling to give up, I kept refreshing the page, again and again, clicking “reload” over and over.
I had to give it to the developers for their speed.
After yet another refresh, the page finally loaded.
I hurriedly scrolled to the comments section, hoping to see if there was any response from him.
[I ship this so hard!]
[Bold and beautiful, this confession is way too sweet!]
[They’re such a perfect match!]
[Lock this in! They’re meant to be!!]
No.
There was none of that.
Instead, the comments section was surprisingly peaceful.
[Don’t even try. Jamie said when he entered the industry that he already has a girlfriend, and she’s not in the business.]
[Same here, he’s waiting for his girl, not some random opportunist.]
[Agreed.]
...
People are contradictory creatures. And I was no exception – especially now.
I was scared that he had moved on, yet at the same time, I feared he was stuck in the past because of me.
Reading those comments, I found myself thinking that maybe my imagined scenario wasn’t so bad after all.
I never expected Jameson to remember the casual joke I made so long ago.
4
It was two years and four months after I brought Jameson back.
That year, several male celebrities had major scandals.
One after another, their careers crumbled, and I couldn’t keep up with all the drama.
I remembered casually complaining to Jameson, “There’s no such thing as sincerity in showbiz – it’s just a giant cesspool.”
Jameson looked up and met my gaze, his expression unusually serious. “I won’t.”
Seeing my confusion, he straightened up, his voice clear and resolute as he repeated, “I won’t.”
I stared at him for a long time before realizing what he meant.
A mischievous thought crossed my mind, and I couldn’t resist teasing him, “Oh? You’re making promises now? If you become famous, would you dare to publicly announce your relationship right away?”
I knew exactly how tricky that question was – announcing a relationship after becoming famous?
Only a fool would sabotage their own career like that.
I didn’t expect Jameson to agree. After all, people are inherently self-serving.
Wasn’t my reason for picking up Jameson selfish to begin with?
But he still nodded and said yes.
I just laughed it off at the time and didn’t take it seriously.
It was the kind of thing you hear and forget. Taking it seriously would just be foolish.
Now, my finger hovered over that comment.
The words were there, real and undeniable, right in front of me.
He had truly kept his promise.
Jameson, you big fool.
Not long after, Jameson himself entered the fray.
[Waiting for her, not for some random flower.]
Those words were anything but subtle, delivering a direct blow.
Within minutes, Jameson’s comment was pushed to the top by his fans.
The replies under his comment were exactly what I had imagined earlier – full of support and blessings.
Jameson seemed to have plenty of time on his hands; he responded to each of his fans’ congratulatory messages with a “thank you.”
Soon, his comment section became a towering pile of replies.
I scrolled through them, not even finding it boring.
Chapter 3 Returning5
“Leslie, take your time. No need to rush back,” Coach Howard’s voice was just as warm and kind as always.
I smiled. “Okay, Coach. I’ll come see you at the training grounds once I’ve settled in for a couple of days.”
“No rush. You take it easy and have some fun first.”
I chuckled.
Professor Howard was my coach back when I was on the national team and the one who guided me on this path.
So when he recently started pestering me, saying I’d forgotten about him and urging me to visit, I had no choice but to agree.
But now that I was back, suddenly, he was in no hurry to see me.
What an unpredictable old man.
After hanging up the phone, I used one hand to prop myself up slightly, while the other hand gripped the key, trying to guide it into the keyhole.
This was an older neighborhood, with ivy climbing the walls.
It was also the same neighborhood where Jameson and I used to live, now mostly inhabited by the elderly.
The widespread use of the internet had rendered these old-fashioned mailboxes obsolete.
Like the lonely elderly residents, they had been abandoned and forgotten by time.
The strength in my single hand was unsteady, and my body wobbled.
In my panic, a voice suddenly called out, “Hey! Be careful, young lady!”
The voice barely faded when a middle-aged woman hurried over to me.
“Let me get that for you. It’s tough for you to manage on your own. If you fall, your mom’s going to be so worried.”
I scoffed silently.
My mom?
She wouldn’t be worried about me.
The kind-hearted woman took the key from my hand and opened the mailbox, pulling out a thick stack of letters and handing them to me.
“Here you go. Is this everything?”
I thanked her, but she waved it off with a laugh.
“No need to thank me. It was nothing!”
The woman glanced at the concert tickets I had just opened, her face lighting up with surprise.
“Is this… Jameson Hall’s concert ticket?”
I was startled. “You know Jameson Hall?”
Jameson was a pop singer-songwriter, but I never expected he’d gotten so popular that even the old people knew about him.
“Of course! My daughter just about lost her mind when she got these tickets the other day!”
Her expression was one of playful disdain, but there was a trace of affection in her voice.
In the end, she gave me a long series of reminders, like a mother would.
My nose tingled, and I felt an unexpected urge to cry.
I nodded to everything she said.
After declining her offer to help further, I controlled my wheelchair and left on my own.
Just as I turned the corner at the entrance of the neighborhood, a black van pulled in.
6
Back at home, I sifted through the stack of envelopes in my hands.
Every letter was addressed the same way: “To my dearest Leslie.”
I opened each letter carefully, taking great care with them.
Inside were tickets to every concert Jameson had ever held since he became famous.
There was always an empty seat at his concerts.
It was a VIP seat in the front row.
And all the tickets in my hands had that same seat number, without a single one missing.
Jameson’s concert tickets sold out fast.
Back before he became famous, there were only a handful of people at his very first concert.
Those few people had only come because I, sitting in my wheelchair, had handed out flyers on the street, begging them to come to a free show.
I still remember clearly: that day, he wore a slightly stained white t-shirt and a pair of jeans with frayed hems.
The sun blazed down mercilessly on that sweltering summer day.
His hair, damp with sweat, clung to his forehead, but it couldn’t hide the hope shining in his eyes.
He smiled repeatedly as he handed out flyers to passersby.
His voice rang out confidently: “My name is Jameson Hall. I’d love to see you at my concert.”
After each time he said it, he’d turn to me with a bright smile.
I smiled back, my eyes crinkling with joy, and added, “He’s Jameson Hall. Come see his concert. You’ve got to!”
In truth, the promotion didn’t work very well. No one had time to come to see an unknown singer perform, even if it was free.
After the first concert ended, Jameson tried his best to hide his disappointment, not wanting to spread his negative emotions to me.
But I noticed. I wanted to cheer him up, so I said, “Hey, that was like a private concert just for me! One day, when you’re famous, I probably won’t even be able to get tickets anymore.”
His smile returned, “That won’t happen. I’ll always save a special seat for you.”
He went from being an unknown singer with no audience…
To now, where his tickets sell out in a flash.
My superstar, finally too big to get tickets for.