Mice love to eat. Mice are good!
"You took a year off in the middle, and you even terminated your contract with your last company. This variety show is the best resource Starline could secure for you right now. If you don't want it, I also have an outdoor survival show—originally meant for Xiang Lesheng—you two could swap…"
Caleb stopped mid-sentence. He had, of course, noticed how pale Julian still looked. "As long as your health can handle it."
Julian shook his head. "It's fine. I'll go. Shane's on the guest list too—Caleb, you wouldn't feel comfortable letting Ollie go alone, would you?"
Shane Keane and Ollie Blake were both flying guests—just one episode each. Everyone knew the two of them didn't get along, and they were pretty much on the same level of fame at the moment. Even though their public images weren't supposed to conflict, it was inevitable: put them on the same show and they'd become each other's biggest rival.
Given what he'd done in the past—dirty, disgusting stuff—now that there's so much eyeballs and traffic on the table, it wouldn't be surprising if he tried something else.
Caleb nodded. He was pleased Julian had volunteered to keep an eye on Ollie. Julian had only signed with Starline a few days ago and been assigned to Caleb's roster. Before that, Caleb only knew the year-away Best Actor from online; they hadn't had any private contact, so he didn't really know what Julian was like in person.
It was only after Julian got the resident-guest contract for "Traveling with Memories" that Caleb managed to arrange a flying-guest spot for Ollie. He'd always been hoping Julian could look after him.
That Julian would take the initiative didn't necessarily make him a saint, but at least it showed he understood the situation.
"This show is your comeback. The other platforms' PR teams will coordinate the publicity. There's one thing I need to confirm: are you going to make the real reason for your year off public?"
Caleb favored Julian being open—partly to shut down baseless rumors, partly because it was a good hook for marketing.
Ollie had, at some point, shifted into the pile of plush toys. He was hugging a huge hamster plush, his chin propped on its head; his hair was a dusty gray, and for a beat Julian felt like he'd hallucinated—the toy Ollie was holding might as well have been a person staring back at him.
"Don't give the exact diagnosis," Julian said. "Just say I was sick. Otherwise it'll cause unnecessary trouble for a very important friend."
"Okay, we'll arrange a statement," Caleb said. "Also—when you're shooting, could you help keep an eye on Ollie? He's a handful. If it were only one day, I'd just be there."
Ollie objected from inside the plush pile. "Caleb, what do you mean I'm a handful? How can you say that? Aren't I still your favorite baby?"
Caleb answered with a cold little laugh. "Someone needs reminding of what they did on that livestream episode."
Suddenly, Ollie deflated. He buried himself deeper in the plush toys like a bullied little waif. Julian couldn't help feeling a strange pang of protectiveness.
"It's fine, Caleb. Ollie looks like a kid who listens. I'm sure he'll be well behaved."
Caleb didn't argue. He knew Ollie's appearance was deceiving—he'd been fooled before by that angelic face. By the time things had gone wrong, it was already too late.
A couple of years back there'd been a livestream variety special. Ollie had popped in to promote his upcoming drama—just a guest appearance. The event was packed with big names, but it ended up turning into a legal mess.
The controversial performer was a singer named Rowan Tate, who had a public image of "beautiful and kind" with a gifted musical mind—somewhat similar to Ollie's persona. Rowan was one of the talk-of-the-show stars that day, so a lot of the segments were built around him. Ollie and some of his fans were very chill; they didn't care about stealing the spotlight—they just wanted resources if they came. Ollie had very few camera minutes.
If things had stayed that lazy, fine.
But quiet kids often hide trouble.
Because there were so many guests, the production costs were high, and sponsors piled on. The show lengthened the mid-show break so star-endorsers could run ad games during the downtime—an approach that, in theory, made everyone happy.
Ollie had been hungry most of the day. With so few on-camera moments, during the intermission his attention was elsewhere. He remembered the spicy snack strips he'd hidden in his backpack last night.
He hadn't planned to eat them on set—these snacks smell strong—but he'd been starving. So he crept over to a standby makeup artist.
"Etude—do you have, like, perfume?" he whispered.
It was noisy in the studio; normal volume would've been fine, but Ollie acted like a thief, so he spoke in a hush. Etude found his furtive puppy energy adorable and matched his tone. "I do. But perfume doesn't quite match your outfit today, right?"
Among the other celebrities in couture and gowns, Ollie was in a youth-oriented cartoon hoodie from a luxury streetwear brand—he looked like a clueless, earnest college kid who'd wandered into the wrong event.
No one could resist patting his head; people halfway expected a pair of furry ears to pop up from his gray hair. Etude happily ruffled him without messing his style.
Ollie slipped down a maze-like corridor with his little backpack, found a corner, and—under the watchful eyes of an expectant livestream audience—pulled out a pack of spicy strips.
[…]
[…]
[Chat]
Only you, seriously—everyone up there is fighting for screen time and you sneak off to eat… how hungry are you?!
He seems oblivious… wait, has he never realized every guest has their own camera? Except those who told production they needed a bathroom break, every guest is followed…
Baby you're so cute whispering, makes the sneakiness even stronger
Is this okay??? Baby you…
I wonder if Caleb is watching the stream—he must be furious
Good luck baby
Good luck
I didn't get why he was hugging that bag earlier. I thought he might be hiding his phone in there. Dude, you might as well have hidden a phone…
What brand are those spicy strips? I need to know the brand, they look so good
Eating instant noodles rn, sob. My lunch today is cup noodles—I need a spicy strip as a side!
Where are the fans? Why are Ollie's fans so useless? Can't anyone identify the brand???
The camera's too far, the angle sucks. You can't see the packaging!
There are more people joining Ollie's stream. Caleb watched a bit and then gave up—whatever, it's not a big deal. Kid's a kid; he likes to eat.
Ollie chewed for a long time, even took a sip of the milk he'd stashed in his bag when the heat hit too strong. Fans went ballistic.
How dare he—he brought a drink! Clearly premeditated. Ollie, stop. You've eaten for ten minutes, my turn now!
Has anyone snagged the brand yet? Is it Brand X? Is it Brand Y?
No.
No.
Anyone live there? Go grab him!!! Maddening Ollie! Why is being your fan so hard? If there's something good, don't eat it all yourself—share!
…Honestly, fans are just like their idol
Normal. That's how this one is.
Ollie's main Instagram was clearly controlled by Caleb, but he had a well-known alt account.
Some artists really treat fans like family; their small accounts were updated more often than their private circles. At first he'd post food links straight to the alt, but after Caleb warned him he'd eased up. Now it was mostly occasional posts complaining that Caleb wouldn't let him snack—big improvement.
Soon Ollie couldn't eat anymore. The spicy strips needed to be hot to be satisfying; he'd finished the milk and had to rest before he could go on.
"Didn't I tell you to be careful? Be careful! Why did this have to happen? Do you know how much losing one person will cost us?"
"I know! You don't need to tell me. And you all have been a little greedy lately—take a break. Don't make the police watch us. If anything happens to me, you're all done."
"Enough. Why did that woman disobey? It's not like you're buying her to be your wife—let the next buyer deal with her. I warn you, this kind of thing can't happen again. If you botch one handling, you'll drag us all down."
The cameraman filming Ollie felt like his blood had frozen. He didn't dare breathe, gripping his camera. The fact the show was live had given him a sliver of courage.
[Chat]
???
What the heck?
What is happening?
Is this part of the show? Is this a staged segment? This stream was half-infomercial—are we getting a mystery twist?
Wait, that voice sounds familiar. I'm checking today's guest list.
Who are we talking about—Rowan Tate?
Rowan? Are there any Rowans in chat? Is that our guy?
Is Rowan staging a surprise for the show?
Was it a kidnapping? A murder? Don't see the face, but his acting's impressive, the line reads—just from the voice I'm shook
So Ollie came out to eat to help trigger a plotline? Sorry I doubted you, baby—you're still Mommy's good boy
Honestly…looks like he was just hungry
Rowan doing this kind of role? Not his usual image…kinda disappointed
You don't know. It's a role challenge. Rowan respects women in real life; doing a contradictory role shows his range.
"Who—who did you say? Jenna Carter?" Rowan Tate was livid. Those people were out of their minds—why pick on Jenna Carter?
"Okay, okay, I know. I'll handle it right away. Clean the scene up first!"
Rowan's voice wasn't loud, but livestream audio is crisp. He and Ollie's cameraman were six or seven meters apart, sitting between different corners. The studio's layout was complex; even if Rowan had scanned the area when he stepped out to call, he wouldn't have noticed the cameraman who arrived later.