Chapter 9: Behind the Spotlight (2)
1755 Words
Adrian looked up at Alex, hesitating for a moment before offering his finger. The bleeding had stopped, leaving a thin, dried film over the wound.
“Bandage or not?” Alex asked for Adrian’s opinion. From his perspective, an injury this “serious” might as well not exist at all.
Adrian shook his head. “You have to disinfect it with alcohol, apply antibiotic ointment, and then bandage it.”
Alex gave him a long look before finally getting up and heading to the medical cabinet for alcohol and ointment.
While tending to the wound, Alex’s eyes caught on a faint scar across the back of Adrian’s hand. It wasn’t big, about an inch long, and so light it would be easy to miss. He thought to himself that if a paper cut could get this much drama out of Adrian, he couldn’t imagine what it must’ve been like when he’d gotten that scar.
Alex worked quickly, and in no time, Adrian’s finger was neatly bandaged.
Adrian looked up at him and smiled faintly. “Thanks, Captain.”
“It’s nothing. Are all silver-spoon brats as good at making a fuss as you? When the rich catch a cold, the poor get pneumonia.”
Adrian pretended not to hear Alex’s jab and explained,
“I’m afraid of pain. If it’s not necessary, I almost never let myself get hurt.”
“You make it sound like there are situations where it’s necessary to get hurt,” Alex snorted, then reminded him, “Come on, let’s head down to the archive and bring the files up.”
Adrian leaned back in his chair, making no move to stand.
“My hand hurts too much. Don’t feel like it. Let’s do it another day.”
Alex couldn’t hold back anymore and was about to snap when his phone rang, a call from the chief. He had no choice but to step outside to answer.
Today, there was nothing urgent at the SCIU office. Lucy was leisurely browsing the web, showing zero guilt about doing personal stuff on work hours.
“Hey, have you guys heard about actor Nathan Greer committing suicide at his home?” Lucy suddenly asked.
Elijah lifted his head from his computer screen, thought for a few seconds, then confirmed,
“Nathan Greer? You mean Agent Midnight? The sexiest man alive?”
“That’s him,” Lucy nodded.
Marco, surprised, asked, “When did it happen?”
“Just two days ago.”
Silas - the quietest member of SCIU - for once spoke up,
“Why?”
Lucy scrolled through the comments for a few seconds before explaining,
“He’d been struggling with depression for years. Two years ago, fans even spotted scars on his wrists.”
Elijah’s expression flickered with surprise. He said,
“On screen he’s so funny. I never would’ve guessed he had depression in real life. Totally unexpected.”
Marco nodded in agreement, unable to hold back a sigh.
“I thought that was something you only saw in South Korea. Didn’t expect Hollywood to be the same.”
Lucy shrugged. “Every place has its shadows. Just because we don’t see them often doesn’t mean they don’t exist.” She then clicked on a video that was trending on social media and called everyone over to watch with her.
Adrian wasn’t particularly interested in celebrity news, but when he saw that everyone in the room - even Silas - had gathered around Lucy’s computer, he didn’t want to stand out. So, he reluctantly joined them.
On screen was a ruggedly handsome face. Even in his forties, Nathan Greer still carried the charm that had made him a silver-screen heartthrob for over a decade.
He wore a charcoal three-piece suit, impeccably tailored. The crisp white dress shirt underneath was perfectly pressed, the navy silk tie neatly knotted, and the cuff revealed the silver edge of an expensive watch. He looked like he was about to step onto the red carpet, yet he was sitting alone in front of a camera.
Nathan leaned closer to the screen, his gaze slowly sweeping as if reading every fan comment.
“Handsome? Yeah, I am, aren’t I… No, I’m not going out anywhere. I’m dressed like this just for you. Like it?”
“I’ve had dinner. Have you eaten yet? Make sure you eat on time, don’t upset your stomach.”
“Oh, right, the movie’s coming out soon. Don’t forget to go to the theater. Don’t stand me up.”
At first glance, it was just another casual livestream - a star chatting warmly with his fans. Nathan kept a faint smile on his lips, not dazzling but warm enough to make viewers believe he was doing fine.
After more than five minutes of answering comments, he gave a small nod and said,
“I’m going to end the livestream now. Go to bed early, don’t stay up too late. Remember to study and work hard. For a better tomorrow, you have to keep trying. Good night, everyone.”
The livestream ended after six minutes. By noon the next day, his manager found Nathan dead by suicide in his home.
When the video finished, Lucy frowned.
“Nathan looked perfectly normal in the video, cheerful, open. I never would’ve thought he’d take his life right after turning it off.”
Adrian shook his head. “No.”
Everyone turned to him, waiting for an explanation.
“When someone with depression has reached the point of accepting death, they’re often calm. Not desperate, not angry. They say goodbye to the world by making it believe everything is fine. This livestream was all staged. He’s a public figure, he wanted to appear polished for his fans, and he had thousands of wardrobe options besides wearing a full three-piece suit. Not to mention all the matching accessories: cufflinks, tie, watch, lapel pin, even his hairstyle, all coordinated with that outfit.”
“And it was only a six-minute stream, with no public schedule afterward. If I’m not mistaken, he chose to end his life in that very formal attire, and he would’ve chosen a method that left his body looking as presentable as possible. Probably sleeping pills, or carbon monoxide. CO poisoning is more likely. After all, he was once dubbed the most attractive man in the world; of course he’d care about appearances.”
“And those words to his fans before ending the stream, that was clearly a farewell. I think in that moment, he wanted to live one last time in the love of his fans, before quietly leaving.”
After a long string of analysis, Adrian concluded,
“This livestream was a suicide note.”
The moment he finished, the door swung open and Alex stepped in, speaking as he walked,
“Good analysis. Lucy, remember everything he just said, we’ll need it for the report.”
Lucy was currently hypersensitive to that word. The instant she heard it, she bristled like a cat with its fur on end.
“Captain, what report? I’ve already finished writing!”
Alex didn’t answer. He simply tossed the folder in his hand onto Lucy’s desk.
Lucy picked it up and read the title aloud:
“Order to Reinvestigate the Cause of Death of Actor Nathan Greer.”
Marco asked in surprise,
“Didn’t the police already conclude it was suicide?”
“Yes,” Alex replied, his expression unable to hide his irritation, “but some people don’t want to let the dead rest in peace.”
“Is this the reason?” Silas suddenly spoke up. He then turned his computer screen toward the others.
On the screen was a shaky, vertically shot video, the background showing a simple bedroom corner. The main subject was a young woman in her early twenties with long black hair falling loosely around her shoulders. She was beautiful, but her face was pale, and her eyes were swollen red from crying, the picture of misery.
Her name was Eliza. The video was eight minutes long, six of which she spent crying. The remaining time, though short, was enough to convey her message:
She was Nathan Greer’s girlfriend. They had been together for a year, and he had proposed to her. They had even gone house-hunting for their future home in Silver Lake. Nathan had plans for his next film and had promised to take Eliza to this year’s award ceremony.
In short, Nathan showed no signs of being someone who would take his own life. He was positive and had concrete plans for the future. She wanted the online community to help get justice for her boyfriend, insisting someone must have murdered him.
In the comment section beneath the video, opinions were sharply divided. Some accused Eliza of exploiting the dead for attention; others sided with her, believing there was more to the story. The Los Angeles Police Department was dragged into the controversy, criticized by netizens as negligent and careless. Nathan Greer’s fan community refused to accept that their idol had died by suicide, making enough noise to force the LAPD to reopen the investigation.
Marco flipped through the case file Alex had just brought back, skimmed it, then frowned.
“The deceased had a history of depression and had been undergoing continuous treatment for eight years. The body was found in the bedroom, and the surveillance camera outside the door recorded no sign of anyone breaking in. The coroner determined the cause of death to be carbon monoxide poisoning. No external injuries or signs of struggle were found on the body. At the scene, there was an iron charcoal brazier reduced to ashes, and all gaps in the room had been sealed with tape and wet towels. Also, the deceased was wearing the exact suit he had on during the livestream the night before his death. This is clearly a suicide, the evidence is solid. What’s the point of that girl making such a fuss?”
Lucy’s fingers flew across the keyboard, and with a final tap on the Enter key, she smirked.
“Overnight, her i********: gained three million followers. From an obscure influencer to a trending name at the top of the search charts. You tell me, was all the fuss worth it?”
Alex tapped his fingers on the table, signaling everyone to quiet down, then said,
“This is an order from higher up. No matter what, we carry it out. Let’s get to work, follow the procedure.”
- Writer
