During the fan sing-along segment of the concert, the roving camera suddenly stopped on me. I quickly got up, waving my hands. “Excuse me, I don’t really know your songs. I’m just here with a friend.” The fans in the crowd immediately booed. “Not even an Asher fan and sitting front row?! What a waste of good seats!” He, however, just stared at me blankly, his eyes visibly reddening on the close-up shot. “There’s one song, I’m sure you’ll know.” That night, the hashtag “Pop Ballad King Asher Vance’s First Love” trended on social media… 1 Just moments before, my best friend, Riley, had been sobbing hysterically over not getting front-row tickets to Pop Ballad King Asher Vance’s concert. The next minute, someone in a fan group added her on a messaging app and offered two tickets for free. She leaped up, hugging me, laughing and crying as she invited me along. Hearing that familiar name, I stiffened slightly. “No thanks, Riley, I’m not really into pop stars.” She pulled my hand, her face beaming. “Trust me, Skylar! You just need to see one show, you’ll fall in love with him, I swear!” Now, I sat less than five yards from the stage, hiding behind Riley’s enormous fan light stick, covertly watching the guy on stage, strumming his guitar and singing ballads. His eyes held a gentle smile, seemingly gazing off into the distance, yet his focus felt as intense as if he were looking only at me. Lost in thought, Riley suddenly grabbed my shoulder, shaking me wildly. “Ah!! Skylar, what are you spacing out for?! You got picked to sing on stage! Go, go!” Only then did I realize the camera had somehow landed on me. The girl on the giant screen snapped back to reality, staring blankly, waving her hands. “Sorry, I don’t really know your songs. I’m just here with a friend.” The surrounding fans immediately erupted. “Seriously, sis! If you’re not an Ash fan, why are you in the front row? What a waste of a spot!” “Don’t waste our time! Pick another fan!” Then, rabid fans like Riley shrieked, “Ah!! I’m her friend! Can I go up instead?!” Amidst the fan commotion, they didn’t notice the man on stage drop his guitar, only staring blankly at me, his eyes visibly reddening on the close-up shot. “You’re fine, miss. Don’t worry, there’s one song you’ll definitely know.” Riley pushed me onto the stage, my legs moving towards him before my mind caught up. The camera zoomed in on us. I stood there, stiff, nervously twisting the hem of my dress, but his smile was as warm as a spring breeze. “May I ask your name?” I took a deep breath, calming my hammering heart. “Skylar Hayes.” “Can you play the piano?” “Yes.” He led me to the piano and sat down. “For the next song, I’d like to play my breakthrough hit, ‘That Summer.’ ” Then he leaned in, his voice low. “Just follow my melody with simple chords.” The stage lights dimmed suddenly, leaving only a single spotlight on us. Silence enveloped the arena. It felt like the entire world had faded away, leaving only the two of us. The faint, elusive scent of lavender from Asher clung to the air, and my scattered thoughts slowly calmed. The opening notes began, and the chords, etched deep in my memory, flowed naturally from my fingertips. Every harmony, every duet, his voice rich and deep, mine clear and bright—we were so in sync, it was as if we’d sung it a thousand times before. Until the last lyric faded, and the song’s lingering notes died down. The quiet crowd erupted in cheers. “That song! It’s the title track from Asher’s first album! They say it’s about his high school sweetheart, but he’s never sung it at a concert before! Talk about a throwback!” “The male-female duet version is so beautiful! Good thing I recorded it! Love it, love it!” “A total stranger can sing that well?! My ears have ascended! I swear you guys were lip-syncing, boo hoo!” Before I stepped off the stage, he suddenly hugged me, whispering in a voice only I could hear: “Skylar, long time no see.” The embrace was fleeting. He smoothly slipped a signed poster into my arms. “Thanks for your amazing performance, Skylar.” I stumbled off the stage, still a bit dazed. Riley threw her arms around me, practically rubbing herself on me. “You hugged my idol, and I hugged you. By extension, I hugged my idol!” Then she eyed me suspiciously. “That song’s from his early album. It’s not very well-known, only old fans would know it. Skylar, you’ve got hidden depths! And you said you weren’t an Asher fan.” I didn’t explain—I wasn’t Asher Vance’s fan. I knew that song because we wrote it together in high school. 2 Back home, the faint, familiar scent of lavender still clung to me. I abandoned the idea of a shower, collapsing onto the couch instead. With practiced ease, I opened my social media search history and clicked on Asher Vance’s profile. It had been my nightly ritual for years. The irony wasn’t lost on me: I didn’t even have the courage to follow him. Ten minutes earlier, he’d posted an update: “She came to my concert.” The caption was accompanied by a photo. In the picture, a girl in an Evergreen High uniform—a simple white uniform, neatly pressed—stood with a high ponytail falling to her shoulders. Though her face wasn’t visible, her silhouette alone hinted at a graceful, blossoming figure. A pang shot through me. She? Was he talking about me? Just then, my phone rang. “My heart is shattered, Skylar! My Ash just went public! I’m dying!” Riley’s wails poured from the phone. “Huh? Where did you see him ‘go public’?” I was confused, but a flush crept onto my cheeks. That post, while a little suggestive, wasn’t that clear, was it? Riley abruptly hung up, leaving a hurried, “Check the trending topics!” Only then did I see it: a female singer named Cassidy Bell had retweeted Asher’s post. “From junior to fellow artist, finally waited for this day.” I clicked on her attached photos. One showed her holding a bouquet of flowers, standing beside Asher on a stage, both smiling brightly. Coincidentally, she was wearing an Evergreen High uniform, her long hair tied in a high ponytail, perfectly matching the silhouette in Asher’s post. The other was a selfie taken from the audience at today’s concert, where she wore a baseball cap, skillfully angled to look like she was kissing Asher’s cheek. The fans exploded. “What a perfect couple! I just went to a concert, and ended up with a mouthful of dog food!” “The golden couple of the music industry, they’re made for each other!” “Raising the ‘AshCid’ banner high! My ship has finally sailed!” A slow, sickening realization dawned on me. She in Asher’s post, was Cassidy Bell. The red heart emoji after her text seemed to burn into my eyes. I rubbed my aching eyes and drifted off to sleep, fully dressed. In my dream, I was back in high school. I encouraged Asher to join the school singing competition with me. But on the day of the finals, I lost my voice due to a cold and cough, forced to withdraw. It was his first time winning. As I took pictures to commemorate the moment, the girl who took second place, her face flushed, handed him a bouquet. “Hello, senior. I’m Cassidy Bell from freshman class 3. Your singing is beautiful. Can I take a picture with you?” When I woke, my eyes were damp. So, Cassidy Bell was that freshman girl who used to constantly trail after us in school. That photo of her holding flowers on her social media? I was the one who took it. But what right did I have to be upset? I once thought I was a golden girl, destined for greatness, and that Asher and I were inseparable. Even though Asher, after my "makeover," was always surrounded by girls, I still believed our feelings for each other simply remained unspoken. Turns out, I was the clown all along. I hadn’t slept well, and by the time I dragged my luggage onto the school bus, swaying all the way to Willow Creek Elementary in the rural county, I thought I was hallucinating. I saw Asher Vance. I rubbed my eyes three times, finally confirming I wasn't mistaken. Despite the surge of wild joy, my face remained calm as still water. “What are you doing here?” He offered a cautious, placating smile. “I was afraid you might misunderstand what’s trending, so I came specifically to explain.” 3 My face remained cold, unyielding. He followed me docilely, trailing behind as I taught the children, ate meals with them. In the evening, we lay side-by-side on the hillside, watching the sunset. He told a few exaggerated jokes, making the children burst into peals of laughter. Finally, I let out a soft chuckle too. “Alright, kids, head back to school. I have something to discuss with your Ms. Hayes.” Whether it was the glow of the sunset or something else, his face was a little flushed. The children giggled, scampering down the hill, leaving me alone on the grass. Sigh. These innocent kids, bought over by this seemingly harmless, handsome guy in just one day. We lay shoulder to shoulder, neither of us speaking. The silence stretched, a little awkward. I broke it first. “You’ve changed a lot. You used to be so brooding and quiet. In all the years I’ve known you, this is the first time I’ve heard you tell jokes. It’s good.” But he wouldn't let me change the subject. “Skylar, the person I was referring to on my social media was you. I don’t know why Cassidy would post something so misleading, but I don’t want you to misunderstand my relationship with her.” “If you didn’t give her the wrong idea, why would she be so desperate to go public with you?” I was a firm believer that it takes two to tango. Remembering the fans’ unearthed “sweet interactions” between them from yesterday, my heart felt like it was being pricked by needles, a sharp, insistent ache. “Skylar, do you know how much effort I put into finding you? You just vanished for so many years without a word. If I hadn’t secretly followed your car home right after the concert last night and sat outside your apartment building all night, then followed you to this charity school early this morning, I don’t know how long you would have kept hiding from me. All these years, do you have any idea what I’ve been through?!” I looked at his bloodshot eyes, and my heart, despite everything, ached for him. I raised my hand, intending to gently caress his cheek, but his phone rang at an inconvenient moment. Seeing “Cassidy” on the screen, my hand froze, then slid down his shoulder as I pretended to brush off some grass. “Go on, answer it. If you’re not guilty, why won’t you?” The incessant ringing was grating on my nerves. He patted my head reassuringly and answered. “Asher, please don’t be mad, okay? I was wrong last night. I shouldn’t have posted that without your permission. But… that was my dad’s idea too!” “You posted such a suggestive message without the company’s approval, not only violating your contract, but did you even consider how your fans would react?!” The voice through the earpiece was tearful, but soft and pleading, almost like a whine. After hanging up, he rubbed his temples, explaining helplessly. “Cassidy and I are both artists under Starbound Entertainment. Starbound Entertainment’s boss is her father. Skylar, please give me some time to sort all this out. One month, I just need one month…” “No need, Asher. We’re not that kind of relationship anyway. You don’t owe me an explanation.” I cut him off, my words cold and detached. “The wind’s picking up. Let’s go.” Asher left. He was a busy man; it was already a miracle he’d spent this day with me. Listening to the rumble of his car engine fading away, I hid in my room, biting my pillow to muffle my sobs. The once confident Skylar, who never truly saw other girls as a threat, had finally been worn down by years of successive upheavals, consumed by anxiety and fear of loss. Perhaps it was because I’d cried for Asher for so long, that his figure filled my dreams. 4 Freshman year, I was obsessed with music, spending every spare moment in the school’s piano room. There was always someone hiding outside the door, secretly listening to me play. One day, I played a recording on my phone, then quietly opened the door and caught the lurking figure red-handed. He wore a pair of comically oversized, nerdy glasses. His washed-out uniform looked ancient, and his sneakers were even coming unglued. I eyed him curiously, watching his face redden until he was bright scarlet, before I finally chuckled. “Hey, if you like piano, why don’t you join me every day? Don’t just listen from outside.” “I… I really like listening to you play, but I’ve never learned piano…” he stammered in explanation. That was my first meeting with Asher Vance. He was in my grade but a different class, even a different building, because I was in the Honors Program, and he was in the lowest-ranked regular class. But at my earnest invitation, he started coming to the piano room with me every day. I also learned from him that his parents sold vegetables at the farmers’ market near the school; he was one of the few low-income students. “I love music so much. I want to study performing arts and audition for college, but my family can’t afford it,” he confessed once we grew closer. He was sixteen, just like me, should have been carefree, but instead he was meek and quiet due to his insecurity. “That’s easy! I’ll find you a music teacher right now!” I slapped his shoulder, declaring grandly. I led him to the office. “Mr. Hayes, I found an incredibly talented student for you. Would you give him some free lessons?” That’s when he realized my father was the school’s music teacher. My dad, true to his word, began giving Asher free vocal lessons and teaching him guitar. He progressed rapidly. Even my dad, who rarely praised anyone, raved about Asher’s talent and diligence. In sophomore year, Asher won the school singing competition. I excitedly grabbed my dad’s hand, jumping up and down. “I told you he’d be your best student!” My dad just gave me a knowing, teasing glance that instantly made my face flush. I tutored him in academics, my dad taught him music. Three years later, he successfully auditioned and got into the best music conservatory in the country… After a night filled with dreams, I woke up with two massive dark circles under my eyes. As I shuffled to the bathroom to brush my teeth, Asher Vance stood in front of me, dragging a suitcase. “Skylar, I went back yesterday and sorted out my work. I plan to stay by your side from today onwards.” He grinned at me. After that, no matter how cold I was, he clung to me, refusing to leave. With his sunny, energetic personality, he quickly replaced me as the children’s favorite teacher. We seemed to have returned to our high school days. Though we hadn’t seen each other for years, our interactions were so familiar, it felt as if we’d been living together for a lifetime. When I uploaded the demo I’d spent half a year perfecting, I immediately received countless messages from fans: “Echo is finally back! A once-in-a-millennium event!” Even famous singers reached out: “What about that song you promised? This one should be mine, right?” Below, fans immediately jumped in to tease: “Don’t even think about it! Echo never writes a song that isn’t tailor-made for Pop King Asher! I strongly suspect she’s his ultimate fangirl!” Then, a sharp-eared fan asked, “Could Echo be in love? The entire track has such a joyful vibe, pink bubbles practically overflowing from the screen. This isn’t the usual Echo style!” When I saw that comment, I choked on a mouthful of water, coughing uncontrollably. Was it that obvious? Though I had to admit, ever since Asher started staying by my side, that tight string in my mind, stretched for years, had finally relaxed. 5 One morning, the youngest child in our class, who should have been at school, didn't show up. A frantic panic seized me. The child was a day student, leaving home before dawn every morning, crossing a mountain to get to school. I was terrified she might have met with some danger on her way. I immediately asked the principal to watch the other children, then ran out of the school gates to look for her. Asher followed close behind me. We walked, calling her name. Finally, halfway up the mountain, we heard a faint cry. The girl had fallen into a ravine, soaked through, having been there for an unknown amount of time. My eyes welled up, and I started to rush down, but Asher pulled me back. “There’s no stable footing here, it’s too easy to slip. I’ll go. You wait for me on the slope.” Then, without a moment’s hesitation, he ran down. He carefully checked the girl’s oddly twisted foot, then wrapped her in his jacket and carried her on his back. He climbed back up, drenched in sweat. “The ambulance can’t get here. Her leg is broken. We need to drive her to the hospital now.” We rushed the girl to the nearest hospital. Thankfully, the treatment was prompt. Aside from a broken right leg, the girl was otherwise fine. After the surgery, the doctor immediately recognized Asher, his face lighting up with excitement. “Asher, hi! I’m a huge fan! Can I get your autograph?” I instinctively tried to pull away, afraid the fans would misunderstand our relationship. But he grabbed my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. “Of course!” The girl’s parents were migrant workers in the city, so she lived with her elderly grandmother. To spare the grandmother worry, we hired a nurse for the girl, then drove back to the village and found her home. As I watched Asher, kneeling on the ground, gently holding the trembling old woman’s hand, reassuring her: “It’s alright, ma’am, the child is doing very well. You don’t need to worry about the surgery or hospital fees; I’ve already taken care of it…” A sudden warmth spread through my heart. I thought, this, just being together every day like this, feels really good. Walking back to the school dormitory, side-by-side, I took a deep breath, took his hand, and said, “Asher, how about we…” “Senior, long time no see.” A cold voice cut off my confession.
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "392645", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel