Chapter Four : Invisible Spotlight
1658 Words
Ariana checked her reflection one last time before heading to the eleventh floor, where she was scheduled to meet the band. She looked like a mess—though her hair was at least better than this morning. Thanks to Tina, who had worked her magic with a comb and a quick fix in the office.
She stepped into the elevator, her mind already running through today’s agenda. At the lobby earlier, a staff member had told her to look for someone named Andrew. She sent him a text, and he replied almost instantly with directions to one of the studio rooms.
When she reached the door, it opened from the inside.
Everyone gasped.
Including her.
“Welcome,” a man greeted her with an easy smile. “You must be Ariana. I’m Andrew.”
Ariana walked in, lifting her chin and offering the best smile she could manage, trying to hide the exhaustion written all over her face. Andrew gestured for her to sit and began explaining the schedule for the day. Her task was simple in : brainstorm with the band, then present three visual concepts for them to choose from before she delegated the designs to her team.
“Please wait here. I’ll call the band,” Andrew said.
Not long after, another door opened. Four men walked out. The band.
Ariana instinctively tried to lower her face, but nothing could hide her. So she gave up.
The band members froze, eyes widening. Ariana did her best to look calm and unbothered.
“Hello,” she said, her voice steady despite the sudden heat rising to her cheeks.
She forced a smile. Blood rushed to her face as she felt their gazes sweep over her—from her head down to her shoes. Their eyes lingered on one particular point. Her hair.
Aston raised an eyebrow. The oddness of her hairstyle registered the moment she stepped into the room. He took the first seat, followed by his bandmates, then Andrew.
The next few minutes passed in a blur.
Ariana went through her presentation, explaining each concept to the band and the team. To her surprise, everything went smoothly. The band’s preferences leaned toward something cleaner and lighter rather than the dark, edgy aesthetic she had expected. This must be her lucky day.
“So, gentlemen, if there are no more questions, I’ll wrap this up,” Ariana said, closing her deck. “I’ll get back to you in a week with the mock-ups.”
Her brain was already sprinting ahead—briefing the designers, consulting with the team, delivering the conclusions to Tina. Oh my God. There’s so much to do. She walked out of the room and closed the door behind her. Only then did she exhale.
She was exhausted. Sleepy. Completely drained. Stopping in front of a vending machine, she pulled out some cash and bought a bottle of water. She drank slowly, staring at the sunset through the glass wall of the building. It had been a long day. All she wanted now was to go home and collapse onto her bed. Yesterday’s rest had been postponed—tonight would be revenge. She would sleep until morning, then recharge her energy with a light run.
She hurried to the elevator and pressed the button. Just as the doors were about to close, they slid open again.
“I hope you don’t mind,” said a familiar low voice. Aston—the main vocalist.
“Sure,” Ariana mouthed silently. Why would I mind? The building is practically yours anyway.
“Going home?” he asked.
“Yes,” Ariana replied.
“Want a ride?”
A sudden wave of horror filled her imagination—Aston dropping her off near her house, paparazzi lurking somewhere in the shadows, her peaceful life instantly exploding.
“No, thanks.”
“What about dinner?”
Ariana turned her head. “I’ll eat at home.”
Was he crazy? Reporters could be anywhere around this building. She wanted nothing to do with scandals.
Ding.
The elevator doors opened. Ariana walked through the lobby, her steps quick.
“Ariana!”
She stopped.
“Ariana, hey,” Aston called again, jogging up to her. “I still feel bad about yesterday. This is for your glasses.”
He handed her five sheets of vouchers—each one worth a ridiculous amount of money.
“I want to make it up to you. I really do. Please accept these.”
Ariana hesitated, then took them. “Thank you. Actually, you didn’t have to. I could’ve claimed the glasses through my company. But since you’ve already given these to me, I’ll accept them properly.”
Aston smiled. “Do you want to have dinner—”
“I said I’ll eat!”
His smile faltered. An awkward silence settled between them.
“Well… I guess that’s it,” Aston said, rubbing the back of his neck. “See you later.”
He turned and hurried outside.
Ariana quickened her steps in the opposite direction. Her heart was still beating a little too fast.
Oh my God, she thought.
She couldn’t wait to get home and disappear into her bed for the rest of the night.
____________
08.00 PM
Aston sat alone on a bench by the lakeside. The estate had been built around a reservoir, its still water reflecting the dim glow of the evening lights. He had just finished his run. Sweat clung to his skin as he lifted a bottle of water—bought hastily from a nearby convenience store—and took a long sip, letting the cold soothe his throat.
Just three months ago, they had wrapped up their concert schedule. And now, with the studio album about to be released, management was already pushing them back on the road. Another tour. Another cycle.
He had been living this rhythm for the past ten years of his life—with his comrades Ali, Henry, and Luca. He had spent more of his youth with them than with his own family. Studio. Recording room. Tour bus. Hotel rooms. Cars. Airports. Cities that blurred into one another. Jumping from one place to the next had become routine, almost mechanical.
He had met countless people—audiences from all over the world. Human connections had become part of his life, part of his body. And yet—
Why do I suddenly feel burned out?
I’ve met so many people, yet I feel lonely.
I barely even meet myself anymore.
The thoughts crept in uninvited, crawling through the quiet corners of his mind.
His psychic had once told him he needed to return to what felt empty inside him. To go home. To sit with his parents. To play with his relatives. To run around with his dog.
He had done all of that a week ago.
And somehow, it still wasn’t enough.
Beep.
His phone vibrated in his hand.
A message popped up in the group chat—from Andrew.
A news link.
Aston frowned and opened it.
The thumbnail froze his breath.
There he was—his back captured in a photo, sitting on the very bench he was on now. The angle was unmistakable. The timing too precise. Goosebumps ran down his arms.
Slowly, he turned his head, scanning the area behind him. The lakeside wasn’t crowded—it was a weekday evening. A few joggers passed by. A couple sat across the water.
Nothing suspicious.
No obvious cameras.
No figures hiding behind trees.
Still, his chest tightened.
Beep.
Another message came in.
Ali: “Who the hell is that?”
Luca: “Which other girl have you been staring at this time?”
Aston let out a slow breath, staring at the dark surface of the lake. The quiet night suddenly felt less peaceful.
Aston clicked the thumbnail and read.
EXCLUSIVE: God's Ark Vocalist Spotted Sharing a Romantic Moment at Walker Lakeside
The baritone vocalist of God's Ark was spotted sharing an intimate moment with a woman believed to be his partner during an evening jog at Walker Lakeside on Tuesday night.
Witnesses reported that the vocalist was seen gazing affectionately at the woman for several moments, creating a noticeably romantic atmosphere by the lakeside. The moment was later captured by NN News, marking a rare public appearance of the singer’s usually private personal life.
Sources close to the artist suggest that the relationship appears to be serious, offering a rare glimpse into the softer side of the vocalist, who is known for keeping his personal affairs away from the public eye.
What? What source are they talking about?
I don’t even know which girl…
Aston lifted his head and looked straight ahead.
A girl was standing a few meters away.
For a split second, his chest tightened. He studied her face, trying to match it with the blurry image from the article. But no—she was just a passerby. Someone waiting for her friend, scrolling on her phone. Someone ordinary.
Of course. This was a public space.
He let out a sharp breath. What a load of bullshit.
His thumbs flew over his phone screen.
“I don’t know that girl!” The message sent with more force than necessary.
Almost instantly, the group chat exploded.
Luca, Ali, and Henry replied with ridiculous stickers and over-the-top reaction emojis—as if this were some kind of joke instead of a headline that could spiral out of control.
Aston clenched his jaw, irritation crawling up his spine.
“Andrew, do something. Make a counter statement. Anything.”
He slipped his phone back into his pocket and leaned against the bench, eyes scanning the lakeside again. Every shadow felt suspicious now. Every stranger looked like a potential witness, a potential headline.
The quiet night that had once felt peaceful now felt exposed.
Like he was standing under invisible spotlights, with nowhere to hide.
- Writer
