8
The third weekend’s live broadcast was an outdoor shoot.
A city adjacent to the hot spring resort, with a long, winter coastline.
“I just found out today,” the producer said on the bus, going through the schedule, “that Cole and Chloe grew up in the same place.”
This week’s theme was to revisit the city where Cole had gone to school.
Before this, no one had thought we had any connection.
Ashton, in the front row, frowned, his gaze shifting to me at the other end of the bus.
“No,” Cole said. “I was just a transfer student.”
It was a well–known fact in the industry that Cole had a difficult childhood. An abusive stepfather, a gambling mother. It had once been a point of
attack for his detractors.
‘I had no idea your life was like that,” Ashton said, his tone dripping with condescending superiority. “Seriously, what do you have to be so arrogant
about?”
The tension in the air was thick. Ashton had disliked him for a long time. He had always believed that Cole’s awards were due to his meeting Vera
s father at nineteen.
The godfather of the entertainment industry.
He had almost completely changed the trajectory of Cole’s life.
Now, with his divorce from Vera and his contract terminated, Cole was a man with no resources.
And all those resources would soon belong to Ashton.
No che in the van dared to speak.
The fact that he grew up to be a decent person,‘ I said, resting my head on my hand, my voice calm, ‘is already quite an achievement
“The fact that he grew up to be a de
We all start from different places. What’s the point of comparing?
We got off the bus and explored the city streets. The group walked to Cole’s old school–Thirteenth High.
It was built on a hillside, with the sea right outside the school gates.
“You went to Thirteenth High too?” Ashton asked, walking beside me.
I had told him before, but he hadn’t paid attention.
“Yeah.”
He smiled, but his eyes were cold. “And you and Cole didn’t know each other?”
“No,” I said. “There were twenty–five classes in a grade, and we weren’t in the same year.”
Cole was walking behind us. Hearing this, he looked up, his dark eyes fixed on me.
“She was a year ahead of me,* Cole said. “My senior.”
The way he said “senior” inexplicably irritated Ashton. He quickened his pace, calling out to go to the next location.
A bus stop.
The producer, on behalf of the viewers, asked Cole, “Was your first love also a student at Thirteenth High?”
‘Yeah.’
Cole, who had somehow ended up standing next to me, turned his head to listen to the producer. He wasn’t looking at me.
He said, she was a bit fierce.
