Redeeming the Unparalleled, One and Only You

Chapter 3: Fleeting Dreams

"What's going on? Why did the plane leave early? We weren’t notified..." Adler was at odds with the airport staff. The stress of long-haul travel had stripped him of his usual calm demeanor, leaving a snarling, fuming version in its wake.

Twyla, watching this transformation, felt a surge of irritability. She instinctively reached into her bag for a tablet of Lorazepam, her go-to for emergency stress relief, a recommendation from Adler himself that proved effective for calming nerves and combating insomnia.

"Adler, cool it," Twyla murmured, massaging her temples. They were at Frankfurt Airport, and the last thing they needed was a fan spotting Adler in this state, given his rising star status.

Thinking of how male stars treated women, Twyla hadn't seen anyone who could hold a candle to Jasper. He never spoke ill or behaved badly towards women, regardless of their class, status, age, or profession.

"I'm going to rest over there," Twyla said, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over her as she slowly moved away from the queue.

There was this nagging feeling she was forgetting something important, but she couldn't put her finger on it. The biggest downside of Lorazepam was its potential to cause retrograde amnesia with long-term use, but she was sure she hadn’t exceeded the recommended dosage.

The idea to travel to Namibia was Adler's. "It's a magical place. We could stay for a month, experience Africa's 'slow life'," he had suggested.

Twyla’s mind was still in a haze, her urge to escape everything still commandeering her decisions, so she had half-heartedly agreed.

Now, stuck at Frankfurt Airport due to their flight leaving an hour early, they faced a three-hour wait for the next one. Twyla planned to use this time to catch some much-needed sleep. Since leaving SSNC, sleep has been a rare luxury.

In a dimly lit room, draped in heavy curtains, a pale, handsome man sat at a desk by the window, flipping through a poetry book. A steaming cup of Darjeeling tea sat before him, its orange hue deepened by a cube of brown sugar, now fully dissolved.

"Alfred, are you there?" The man set aside his poetry book, immersed moments before in John Keats' "Bright Star." He picked up his cup of tea, the sugar cubes fully dissolved, lending the orange-hued liquid a kind of opulent sheen.

A minute later, the door opened, and a uniformed butler appeared, holding a pad in his left hand, fingers tapping incessantly.

"This morning, I forgot how to use the coffee machine," the man said, his smile fleeting and enigmatic as he glanced at the butler, then back at his tea. "Retrograde Amnesia? Lorazepam? Is this what you’ve been adding to my tea every day?" His tone was devoid of anger, laced instead with a hint of boredom.

The butler remained silent, expressionless.

The man chuckled, coughing twice. "Seems a bit overdone, doesn't it? You could’ve used something more direct."

The butler approached, setting down his pad and draping a thin wool blanket over the man's shoulders.

"That's the least harmful option, isn't it?" the man said. After a pause, he closed his eyes briefly as if gathering strength, then added softly, "I mean, it's achieved your desired effect."

"We need to review your memories again, see what's left," the butler said, his expression still emotionless, like a lifeless automaton.

"Oh," the man sighed, nodding wearily. "Is the update ready? Upload it if it is."

"Give me five more minutes," the butler said respectfully before hurrying out.

As the study door closed slowly behind him, the man's lips curled into a sardonic smile, pouring his tea into a potted plant beside his desk.

Twyla awoke from her dream, shaking uncontrollably, her teeth chattering. What was that scene, and that man... he looked like Jasper. What movie was he shooting? Why did she dream of that?

Right, Lorazepam, the same drug she had been taking recently. The daily lattes from Adler, overly sweet... Had they also contained Lorazepam? A headache began to throb as she pondered, a recent, frequent occurrence.

Twyla scrolled through her phone, finding an article on "Long-term effects of Lorazepam." "...permanent, irreversible brain damage, most commonly retrograde amnesia." She gasped, her eyes widening. Had Adler been drugging her coffees?

Twyla hurriedly packed her belongings and left the VIP lounge.

Minutes later, Adler and several burly men in black entered the lounge, only to find Twyla gone. Adler's face darkened, his fingers nervously entwined, sensing something had gone awry.

"Twyla, wait!" Adler caught up with her at Gate 75, bound for Shanghai. "Let's call off our trip to Africa," Twyla said coolly, her mind racing with questions. What was Adler playing at? Drugging coffee? What bizarre plot was this?

"I don't have time for your nonsense. I've received your and Allen's message loud and clear. I'll deal with you both once I'm back," Twyla said meaningfully. Adler was nothing without someone pulling his strings; he wouldn't have survived this long otherwise.

"It's not what you think, Twyla, I didn't..." Adler protested, but Twyla cut him off.

"What did Allen promise you for playing the scapegoat? To make you the next Jasper?" she asked, her smile laced with scorn. "If Allen could do that, he wouldn't need to go to such lengths to keep Jasper."

Adler fell silent, his shoulders slumping in resignation. "Everyone wants to be Jasper. I'm no different."

"So, you think stepping on him makes you the top star?" Twyla crossed her arms, eyeing Adler. "You should’ve cozied up to me. I made Jasper, not Allen or SSNC. They've barely invested in him but reap all the benefits."

Adler shook his head. "I wanted to, but you were against Allen. We're all just pawns, Twyla. I'm just a soldier, and you're the Queen. Jasper's the King, but Allen... he's the player."

"So, he wants to take down the Queen? Why?" Twyla asked, bewildered by Allen's motives.

Adler laughed softly. "You've always been naïve, Twyla. You've blocked so many paths, don't you see? What you've gained doesn't match what you've given."

"So, I'm a thorn in Allen's side? I take that as a compliment," Twyla said calmly.

Adler nodded. "Then whatever Allen does to you, it's justified."

"The Sky Fund scam, you were involved?" Twyla asked.

"That was your and Jasper's project," Adler said nonchalantly.

Twyla showed him her phone screen, a news headline reading, "Top Star Jasper's Agent Suspected of Fleeing from Crime." The post was from two hours ago.

Innumerable posts followed the news, some claiming the police were about to issue a warrant for Twyla, others asserting she had mentally bullied the victim into jumping. The rumors were wild and frightening.

Adding to the chaos, SSNC released a terse statement, firing Twyla for embezzling company funds and reserving the right to sue her. This piece of news currently ranked second on the trending list.

This was the last act Allen orchestrated for Twyla: pinning her irrevocably to the pillar of shame, ensuring her downfall was absolute. To dominate public opinion, he had Adler, the heartthrob of SSNC, lure Twyla away on a trip, perfectly missing her window to defend herself.

“You're SSNC's rising star, and Allen sent you to do this?” Twyla's eyebrows arched in disbelief. The depths these people would stoop to were astonishing. To bury her, Allen had indeed spared no expense.

"Or is this just how SSNC operates? Sign a contract and sell your soul? You must be quite accustomed to this, huh?"

Adler's face paled, a flush of abnormal red tinting his cheeks. "What do you know? Jasper will end up the same. Those people are obsessed with getting their hands on him.”

"He won't. I'm sure of it," Twyla stated calmly.

Twyla's sharp rebuttal clearly struck a nerve. He coughed violently for a few minutes before regaining control, his eyes red and malicious: "He won't escape. Once the new contract is signed, Allen will hand him over..." He laughed maniacally.

Yes, he wanted to be Jasper, but he also despised him – despised his aloof elegance and the light in his eyes. Why should Jasper always live like royalty while he has to grovel for survival?

Twyla watched him expressionlessly, then spoke slowly, "You hate him that much?"

"Everyone hates him, don't you know? He's blocked so many paths. Because of him, this industry is what it is," Adler spat out, as if suddenly justified.

Twyla was stunned by the information Adler had inadvertently revealed. What illegal dealings were Allen and SSNC involved in? They were planning to exploit top stars?

“Allen will take care of everything, even if it's Jasper, he won't escape. " Adler said, his demeanor shifting from manic to calm.

Twyla observed his trembling fingers and dilated pupils, realizing his erratic behavior: Adler was a drug addict in withdrawal.

"I should thank you. Lorazepam is at least better than drugs, for me. " Twyla remarked coldly.

Realizing arguing with Adler was pointless, Twyla knew the priority was to see Jasper as soon as possible.

Twyla watched Adler stumble away, lost in the crowd, his slip-up revealing the truth during his withdrawal.

On the return flight, Twyla couldn't stop guzzling ice water, desperately trying to douse the inferno raging in her chest. By the time she finally landed at SHanghai Pudong Airport, her discomfort peaked.

She felt a suffocating, nauseous attack creeping over her, her vision clouding with dark red mist, thick and oppressive. The acrid smell of burning metal and rubber slowly engulfed her. Her body felt submerged in icy waters, the waves rising past her throat, dragging and tearing at her, roaring threats of dragging her to an unknown world she could never return from.

"What are you doing!" someone bellowed in rebuke. A force yanked her brutally towards the shore, rough yet powerful. Twyla's hand brushed against warm skin – a living, breathing person!

It felt like an eternity before Twyla regained her senses, or maybe she never lost them. The sea roared towards them, forcing them back into the dark vortex. But the person held on firmly, dragging her back to the shore.

As the fog before Twyla's eyes started to dissipate and the dizziness subsided, her heart still pounded wildly, her fingers twisted unnaturally from tension, her limbs ached, and her head throbbed – clear signs of her intense ordeal.

"Jasper?" She couldn't believe her eyes. Standing before her was Jasper, the man she thought she'd never see again!

It was a moment charged with dominance. Jasper's face flickered in and out of focus like a flower swaying in the wind. The air was fragrant with a mix of sea salt, moss, pine, down pillows, and leather, overwhelming Twyla's senses that had just returned from a long absence.

"How are you feeling? Were you sleepwalking just now?" Jasper's voice seemed distant as if whispering through a veil.

Twyla, still in a daze, managed to ask, "What are you doing here? Haven't you jumped yet?"

Jasper chose to respond only to the first part of her question: "I just got off the plane. Saw you rolling on the ground right out of the VIP exit. A bunch of people couldn't hold you back."

Rolling on the ground?! The idea of herself in such a state, especially at a crowded airport, was almost too much for Twyla. She coughed harshly, gasping for air, and managed to say, "I think I had a panic attack just now."

"A panic attack?" Jasper gave her a once-over, as if checking she was all in one piece, then said, "You've been off the grid for days. What have you been up to? Do you know the whole world has been looking for you?"

Twyla sighed deeply and nodded, "Just found out. Couldn’t connect to the internet till now. I'm handling it."

Jasper glanced behind Twyla, hesitating. He was looking for Adler, knowing Twyla had disappeared with him. Twyla calmly said, "Just me. Who else are you looking for?"

Jasper murmured an unnatural "Hmm," and dropped the subject. Twyla noticed his earlobes turning a deep shade of pink.

"How's your contract going? You haven't signed, right?" Twyla asked, focusing on what mattered most – life or death stuff.

"The deadline is tomorrow. It's either to sign or to confront them, no third option," Jasper said grimly.

"Feel like taking a gamble with me?" Twyla asked, her expression inscrutable.

Jasper shrugged nonchalantly, "Might as well. Dead either way."

They understood each other – Twyla meant to refuse the contract and fight SSNC and Allen to the bitter end.

"Do we stand a chance?" Jasper queried.

"Didn't before, maybe a sliver now," Twyla replied with a faint smile.

"This all happened so suddenly, I didn't have a clue, didn't consider your perspective..." Twyla felt an apology was in order.

"Honestly, I'm scared. It feels like I'm drowning in PTSD. Desperately struggling, wishing time could rewind, pretending none of this ever happened…"

Twyla sighed heavily, her voice laden with emotion. "But it did happen. Running will only make things worse... I'm sorry, Jasper, for leaving you to face this alone."

Jasper took a deep breath, easing his oxygen-starved lungs, a faint blush spreading across his pale cheeks. "I understand. I get it."

"I'm back now, so hold on. Don't renew with SSNC. It's a viper's nest; you can't go back." Twyla urged, gripping Jasper's hand tightly. "It's not time to give up. We need to fight."

Jasper clasped her hand back firmly, realistically adding, "Winning public opinion online will be hard without solid proof." In just a few hours, Twyla had been ruthlessly smeared online; without hard evidence, it was hard to salvage her reputation.

"We do have evidence, but we need to act fast because it's highly time-sensitive," Twyla said, dialing a number on her phone. After a patient 20-second wait, she spoke calmly, "Hello, I'd like to report a crime."

In the airport's hustle, Twyla and Jasper stood like two serene emojis in a whirlwind GIF of madness. They were an island of calm in a sea of chaos, conversing in their uniquely dramatic language.

Twyla leaned in, her voice a real, vibrant contrast against the noisy backdrop, "Listen, Jasper. We've been forced to play at Allen’s table, under his rules, and we're out of moves. So, we need to flip the table, not just break his rules, but make our own."

Her eyes sparkled, captivating Jasper, who nodded slowly, awestruck by the force emanating from her, "Alright, let's flip it."

Twyla looked up into Jasper's perfectly sculpted face, a favorite of the gods. She whistled at him, winked, and said with a smile, "Time to turn on the spotlight and expose those dark corners!"

Then, they both extended their hands, exaggeratedly and quickly clasping each other – their secret handshake in a world of high drama that was all their own.

Their moment of solidarity was shattered as Twyla's phone shrieked hysterically, destroying the atmosphere they had just built. She sighed resignedly and answered the call. Anyone looking for her now was not someone she could afford to offend.

"Yes, that's me. Been on vacation, so my phone's been off." Twyla's voice was polite yet restrained, but Jasper keenly sensed a flicker of anxiety in her eyes.

"Who is it?" Jasper mouthed silently. Twyla shook her head, a look of unspeakable things in her eyes.

"Okay, 9:00 AM tomorrow works. See you then." She hung up thoughtfully, answering Jasper's unspoken question, "That was the chief officer on the case, wants to meet tomorrow for some information."

"Because I was the last person to talk to that fan," Twyla said with a bitter laugh. A true case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time – surely part of Allen's design?

"The 'Dark Overlord' is truly omnipresent," Twyla sighed. "He must have been planning this for a while, huh? To trap me? How deep must his hatred for me be?"