The scent of roasted pork barbeque overwhelmed the air as detective Nguyen Wen Chien opened the sliding door. The buzz of pouring rain sounded through narrow restaurant bar. Chien shook his soaked umbrella and folded it into the stand before dulling the violence of the rain by sliding the door shut. Big calloused hands pulled a soggy crumpled business card from the pocket of his frayed leather coat.
A color picture of a young man in his early thirties was starting to run but his clean-cut hair, nice suit and smooth smile remained unblurred. The real Ngo Phaolo sat hunched over the counter with unfinished pork on his plate and half a bottle of Bia Hanoi still condensing with chill in the smokey humidity. A glazed eye stared into the fire of the stove as the aged server lady continued grilling. Her white hair held tightly tied into a tight bun covered by a net.
The agent’s hair hung disheveled as it gleamed with unwashed greasy sweat. Stubble grew unevenly across his chin. Phaolo kept rubbing his fingers through his hair and mumbling something about checking the wiring and the weather forecast being clear. He hadn’t noticed Chien enter and take a seat on the stool beside him, a red Dong note slapped down on the faded counter.
“We’ve already determined that Miss Hoa’s death was an accident. You’re in the clear as far as criminal charges. The only thing being investigated is whether there was extreme negligence in your set-up and that’s being conducted through third parties, though I’m not uninvolved.”
Phaolo grabbed his beer and gulped the rest down, “Another on my friend here. I think there’s more to my client’s death, something that you’re not telling me. But I can’t put my finger on it.”
“Well, I’m here. I have my recorder. Note that anything you say can still be recorded. I’m not going to consider this a private conversation. So, you have no reason to tell me anything, especially considering the court has already decided it wasn’t murder.”
“Negligence or murder, what does it matter, my name is mud. I’ll never have another client. My business is through. I lost the woman I love. And I’ll be working to pay off the mediated damages for the next ten years. I’m screwed either way, so you’re going to listen to my gripe.”
“Tell me what you know, I got all day.”
Phaolo picked up the empty bottle by the neck and swung it gently as he sung some lyrics while holding back tears, “Suffering. What is suffering? When I’m with you I’m happy. The bliss fills my being. Share this world with you and become who I truly am. You’re where I long to be. Suffering becomes my strength when I touch you.”
“Did you invite me here to sing her album to me. I listened to all her songs, each and every one. They were okay. Not really my thing.”
“Her almost hit song,” Phaolo said, “Was her last words. You should note that down. Don’t you think?”
He took a piece of barbeque pork with his chopstick, put it in his mouth, and chewed slowly. He swallowed before he spoke again.
“They were destroying her. They killed her.”
“Who was?”
“Her critics,” he said, as he tapped the bottle on the counter, “It all started because her hair fell in front of her face one time. Then it went viral! We were just starting to go big, and that review. It ate at her. They knew it ate her. She just wanted to be happy and give happiness. But it just got worse and worse until they finally struck the final blow!”
“Who struck the final blow?”
Hands trembled as Phaolo continued, “The same group that arranged the trolling. Investigate the lighting company with that red eyed woman. Miss Azoria! I gave you their card!”
The detective shook his head and then slapped the plastic bag with the business card flat on the counter, “Been through this before. The card is fake. No record of any such people existing, even your band doesn’t remember anyone like you described being there. This whole business conspiracy theory is the reason you were a suspect at all! You should be careful who you try to bring down.”
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“I’m not grasping at shadows, listen to me for a change! Something big is going on. Somebody big wanted her dead, maybe another idol agency. I just want to know the truth. Let me go over that night, from the top, one more time.”
-----
The narrow trailer felt stuffy. The fan at the side window didn't help much. Phaolo laid across the sofa reading a newspaper while Linh poured over the reviews on her laptop:
-Honestly, she tries to act like she’s the world’s gift and the act is getting sickening. The way she addresses the audience like children while looking like she wants to kill everyone makes me want to vomit.
-What well did this wannabe real doll crawl out of? Her voice okay I guess, but she luck like whorror movie. When she talk about frendship, luv, and happiness it just a bunch of bad bad bad feeling.
-I lit a candle at midnight and Hoa Linh appeared inside my mirror with blood on her hands! LOL!
-WELL CHILD!
-We love you Hoa Linh, don’t worry about what everyone else says. Hang in there!
-I went to one of her smaller free concerts. She was nice and all and I had fun, but it wasn’t worth buying an album.
-Someone with a baby tried to get her autograph and the baby started crying. Poor baby. That’s child abuse.
-What is awful get-up, is trying to be magical girl? How many years ago were popular? Never be taken seriously if continues to sing in dumb dress.
-WELL CHILD!
-Her body nice, put bag on head and smash big time! Super!
-Her voice is like someone trying to run a rock across a cheese grater and she looks like a one-woman horror show. Maybe she should try cutting off her hair but who wants to look at a bald idol. Too bad she can't cut off her face.
-Okay singer. Scary hair. Pasty skin. Very plain face. Super fake smile. Annoying look.
-WELL CHILD!
-Failure of an idol, she’s never going to make it. She should try MacRogerts but not at the counter because nobody wants to look at that scary face.
-Evil MacRogert’s Fry Cook, lol!
A hand went down on her shoulder causing her to jump with a start. Her hands went off the keyboard as Phaolo rubbed her shoulder. She adjusted her hair and relaxed slightly as he began to massage.
“I told you to stop reading these things, especially before a show. You should stop checking Idol Net altogether. This will blow over; it’s just a viral phase and they want to see if they can make you implode. Show them your passion, win them over, leave your haters in the dust. You’re so close to making it big.”
She listed her head a bit, “I think I need a break; it’s getting a bit too much for me. What if I take six months off and come back? By then maybe it’ll be better. I can get a makeover. I won’t be the Well Child anymore. Perhaps we can write a new song together?”
“We’ll talk about it after tonight’s performance. Give this one your all, okay. Your make-up is perfect. And I’ve hired someone to present you in the best light. You’re going to be so beautiful and spread such happiness that all this viral nonsense will blow away like dust. And tonight is the start of it.”
She stood up from the desk, already in her pink dress with ribbons and frills. The skirt puffed out slightly as she stood in pink heels. A copper mesh allowed the dress to keep its form and rebound. She had decided to wear her hair back in a pony-tail and made sure her bangs were cut shorter. They had spent extra on the best make-up artists. Her smile was genuine if a bit battle hardened.
“My lady,” he said as he opened the door.
That took the battle scars away so he smiled back as they went outside. A beautiful woman in a business suit stood to greet them on the assembled stage overlooking the parking lot.
An additional elevated platform housed the drums and the keyboard. The drummer and the pianist waved Linh over for a quick word.
Azoria gripped her clipboard and bit her lower lip, “Our company has installed the lighting system that will make her skin sparkle. I’m sure your little troll problem will be a thing of the past. I’m a big fan of her music. Do you mind if I say a word to her before the concert starts?”
“That would be no problem at all Miss Azoria.”
This opening venue was hugely important, almost ten thousand people would be watching in this rented parking lot. They had even paid for tickets. Phaolo watched as the crowd filtered in. Sales numbers suggested full capacity. A knock could be a boost after all. He pumped his fist and then waved the star to the back stage.
Azoria waited in the background until Linh passed her. She leaned forward, “Break a leg. After your performance tonight, perhaps you can join me for a fun little game?”
The star pushed her hair back, not entirely sure what the stage presence expert meant by that. Phaolo had taken care of all the negotiations, so this was the first time she’d seen the woman, "Sure, I'd love to hang out with you for a bit."
She went to use the portable restroom, get freshened up, drink some lemon water, adjust her costume, make final checks with the band, and exercise her voice with some pitch exercises before the big performance.
Her fresh start began tonight.