Drifting on a String - Chapter 57
Chapter 57
Chen Piaopiao didn't have a stomachache. She just needed to breathe.
For the past few years, she thought she had gotten used to living without Tao Jin. But it wasn't habit; it was barely surviving.
She was like someone who had starved past the point of hunger, grown numb to it, thinking it was fine not to eat. But when food was finally placed before her, her stomach churned in agony, and she couldn't take a single bite. She could only watch as others picked up their chopsticks, trying to hide the embarrassing hiccups of an empty stomach.
There was another embarrassing point: the ever-widening gap in their future paths was likely a reason for her breakup with Tao Jin.
And now, she thought her life had gotten better. She'd gone from an influencer to a star, with a few decent endorsements to her name. If her face were printed on a billboard for a luxury brand, Tao Jin might see her while shopping at the mall.
Those print ads were usually shot to look very high-class; photographers loved a face that held a look of disdain for the world.
She had naturally assumed that this version of Chen Piaopiao shouldn't feel timid reuniting with anyone.
How did Tao Jin do it?
She was wearing a plain, unadorned T-shirt, sitting on a concrete step, petting a dog. Her opening line was also simple: hello.
And still, Chen Piaopiao felt she was a cut above.
Even the atmosphere around her was the same. Though they didn't put on any airs, professional terms they didn't understand would slip from their mouths. Sometimes, when they couldn't find a suitable translation, they'd just speak in English. Chen Piaopiao would have to try several ways of spelling the words to filter out the one that best fit the context.
The day her assistant said Arick was arrogant, Chen Piaopiao had asked Zhuang He to look into it. Zhuang He replied: "Third-gen official."
No wonder.
Chen Piaopiao swallowed a few vitamins and received a WeChat message.
"Grandma is coming to Beicheng. I couldn't reach you, so she called me. I've picked her up and brought her to my place."
The signal in the theater just now had been poor. Chen Piaopiao replied: "Okay."
The sender: Jiang Guanye.
Perhaps because she'd had time to calm her emotions, or perhaps because of Jiang Guanye's message, Chen Piaopiao was in much better shape that afternoon, and the rehearsal went smoothly.
Tao Jin didn't ask about Chen Piaopiao's health, but her guidance was meticulous. She would frown, staring at Chen Piaopiao's shoulders, and discuss with Tingting whether to change the female lead's costume from a dress to pants. She said, "Pants would probably make her look more like a corporate drone."
"Right? The dress looks too stunning on her," Tingting agreed wholeheartedly.
Tao Jin smiled and nodded. "Mhm."
She would also suggest adding two beams of light behind the lead's stool during the life-recollection scene. One beam for the key character, and one for an object of important relation—it could be a cello, or a bottle of wine. The scene transitions would be accomplished through the interplay of light and shadow between the character and the object.
"Cut the music the moment the object is revealed," she said, nudging Fay with her shoulder.
Chen Piaopiao watched her from the stage, feeling like a piece of art being arranged. It had to be said, Tao Jin in her professional element was incredibly charming. Anyone would fall in love with her.
Tao Jin stood there observing Chen Piaopiao all afternoon. When it was time to wrap up, she straightened up from where she was leaning against a table. "Let's call it a day."
"After she gets up, we go into the second act. There are still some issues with her blocking that need to be redesigned," she said, turning to her side to remind Tingting to take a note. "We'll discuss it tomorrow."
"Tomorrow, um," the assistant came to pick Chen Piaopiao up, scratching her eyebrow as she stepped forward. "We have a livestream to promote a new drama. We mentioned it to Sister Tian before."
Tao Jin glanced at Chen Piaopiao, who was stepping off the stage. "What time?"
"They've been scheduled for three to seven in the afternoon," Chen Piaopiao said, walking over to Tao Jin's side. She tilted her head and touched her earlobe, a habitual motion to relax.
"A four-hour livestream?" Arick asked, surprised.
"We have to do hair and makeup," Chen Piaopiao said helplessly.
"Oh," Arick clicked her tongue in wonder. "You celebrities sure work hard for your money."
Tingting couldn't help but let out a "pfft" of laughter. Chen Piaopiao was more or less used to her blunt and unfiltered manner by now and just smiled and shook her head.
"Hey, that reminds me," Arick lowered her voice. "You haven't evaded any taxes, have you? If something happens to you, will our play get shut down?"
The actors they had worked with before were all invited from the Beicheng People's Art Theatre, all with impeccable backgrounds. In her stereotypical view, no one was as high-risk as a celebrity with a huge following.
Chen Piaopiao froze, and so did her assistant.
Arick was relentless, nudging Tao Jin in the waist. "Will it?"
Tao Jin looked down, tidying her script, and said softly, "How would I know?"
"Huh?"
"How would I know if she's evaded taxes?" She looked up at Arick, tilting her head.
The atmosphere was subtle. After all, the "she" in question was standing right there, yet Tao Jin stared directly at Arick, which was rather rude. But with a faint smile playing on her lips, a hint of ambiguity was woven into her detachment.
A single pearl rolled through the hearts of the few people present.
Chen Piaopiao's gaze flickered. She said softly to Arick, "I'm a law-abiding citizen. Don't worry."
As Arick met both their gazes at once, she had the bizarre feeling that she was about to be roasted alive.
After a long day, everyone went their separate ways for dinner. Chen Piaopiao asked her assistant if she could order luosifen, but the assistant said the smell was too strong, and it wouldn't be good since they had just arrived.
So Chen Piaopiao gave up on the idea and chose McDonald's, sharing it with her assistant.
Her eating habits were often irregular, so she couldn't eat much now. She'd have a few bites, then stop to play on her phone and let her stomach digest.
Sometimes she felt a sense of disbelief. How had she ever managed to stuff down fifteen bacon rolls back then?
Night fell. If you listened closely, you could hear the croaking of a few frogs by the water, accompanied by the fragrance of lotus leaves. Chen Piaopiao was in her room writing her character's backstory when she suddenly received a WeChat notification. Opening the list, she couldn't help but freeze.
That ID hadn't jumped to the top of her list in three years.
The frogs outside seemed to leap into her chest. Chen Piaopiao tapped the side of the whale profile picture. Tao Jin had sent: "A quick check."
Before Chen Piaopiao could reply, she followed up: "Send me your legal name, the name for the play's billing, your real age, and the age on your theater resume."
"It's for the official approval process."
A frog in her chest kicked its leg.
It hurt quite a bit.
She typed and deleted several times before finally asking: "Is now a good time? I can come find you."
The other person is typing...
"The tree."
Chen Piaopiao knew it. The cafe in the designer hotel, right on the shore.
Thankfully, she hadn't changed. Chen Piaopiao put on a hat, grabbed her phone, and walked over in five or six minutes. The shop never closed, and a constant stream and gentle breeze flowed by. The theater folks sometimes came here for inspiration while creating. Chen Piaopiao pushed the door open. Inside, besides the owner wiping a glass, there was only Tao Jin, sitting by the window.
She didn't have her laptop, just a simple-looking notebook on the table and half a cup of latte by her hand.
"Hello," she said, still greeting her politely as she watched Chen Piaopiao approach.
Chen Piaopiao sat down opposite her. The question she had wanted to ask got stuck, leaving her speechless for half a minute before she could speak. She first let her eyes scan the small river, then looked directly at Tao Jin, her eyelashes trembling.
"All those things you asked me... you don't know them?"
...
"...My name is Chen Piaopiao. I'm a freshman, eighteen years old, from Xindu. Um, I studied music in middle school, but I have absolutely no acting experience. To be honest, I haven't even listened to many musicals."
The crisp self-introduction from the past was clearly audible as their gazes intertwined.
Back then, Tao Jin had been in the audience and asked for her resume, a smile in her eyes as she read it.
Was her memory really that bad?
Chen Piaopiao heard Tao Jin let out a faint sigh. It was very soft, but the Tao Jin from five years ago would never have sighed like that.
The old days were instantly shattered.
Tao Jin explained, "Some artists use a different name from their legal one, and the age they use for publicity doesn't match their ID. So I need to confirm everything, otherwise the approval might not go through."
She spoke flatly, her tone devoid of any particular meaning.
Chen Piaopiao's eyelashes cast a shadow beneath her eyes. Her chest felt tight. She could only retort slowly, "But you've seen my ID."
"I don't know your professional profile as an artist."
"You..."
Had she never even searched for her? Age, height, weight—it was all on Baidu Baike. All she had to do was type in the three words "Chen Piaopiao," and everything would be there.
Chen Piaopiao stared out the window, dazed, trying hard to release her breath evenly.
After about ten seconds, she said in a low voice, "Chen Piaopiao, 23 years old. It's the same on my ID and in my publicity materials."
"Thank you," Tao Jin said softly.
They fell silent again.
This was the first time they had been alone together since their reunion. Chen Piaopiao discovered that Tao Jin was even colder now, lacking even the gentle smile she wore during rehearsals.
She had never been so unable to read Tao Jin. She said she didn't want to use her, but then she did. If she was using her reluctantly, why bother guiding her so meticulously?
Chen Piaopiao's fingers, resting on the table, fidgeted three or four times before she finally asked the question, "I heard you were against me participating at first."
"Mhm, I voted no," Tao Jin said in that voice that could lull you to sleep like a spring breeze.
"But I'm here," Chen Piaopiao's voice grew hoarse at the end.
"Yes," Tao Jin smiled. "Director Sun convinced me. He said you were very suitable."
"Why didn't you want to use me?" Chen Piaopiao raised her eyebrows imperceptibly.
Tao Jin pressed her lips together, then softened her tone as she considered her words. "I felt that you might not be very suitable for this kind of play. The adjustment period required would be quite long."
It was a tactful way of saying she thought her acting wasn't good enough to carry a major female lead in a stage play. Chen Piaopiao understood.
But she wasn't ready to give up.
"No other reason?"
Tao Jin closed the open notebook in front of her and placed it to her left. Only after completing this series of actions did she look up at Chen Piaopiao.
"What other reason would there be?"
She asked softly, a slight smile on her face.
It was like a knife twisting in Chen Piaopiao's heart.
Chen Piaopiao's lips were dry, and she pressed them together with difficulty. Tao Jin extended her right hand, her index finger tapping the screen of her phone twice, neither lightly nor heavily. She continued to ask, "Should I... have some other reason?"
It was an inconspicuous little gesture, but in Chen Piaopiao's eyes, it was a reminder.
Tao Jin hadn't changed her phone, and neither had she. They were the same ones from three years ago.
So, when Tao Jin's WeChat message arrived tonight, the previous chat record was Chen Piaopiao's: "Let's break up."
After that, she remembered Tao Jin had called her, so the WeChat chat page had stopped right there.
Three years ago: "Let's break up."
Three years later: "A quick check."
Like a re-confirmation, three years late.
This child 🤦🤦🤧
ReplyDelete