“See you next time~”

Backstage, Mo Zitong slipped on a white jacket, a fresh page over her shoulders, and waved like a drifting feather at Tang Coco.

“...”

Tang Coco let the wave fall like a stone into still water. Frost first, then movement—she turned and headed for Meng Xiaoxiao in the audience, wishing the page could close without another meeting.

She kept her body low, a shadow skimming under lamplight, and slid to Meng Xiaoxiao’s side before the fireflies of attention could gather.

“How’d it feel~”

Xu Yinuo’s smile hooked at the corner like a fishing line, tugging anger up in Tang Coco’s chest like a spark catching dry grass.

“Not great. You knew, didn’t you? You two planned that.”

“Noo~ I told you, I didn’t know what she’d perform...” Her face crumpled like a wilted petal, voice soft as spring rain.

“Hmph.”

“Xiaoxiao, let’s go.”

“Eh? You’re not watching the rest?”

“Mm... nothing worth it now, right...” Her eyes swept the seats like a receding tide; people were already drifting out, most here for a fiery clash between Mo Zitong and Tang Coco.

“Next, the Street Dance Club and the DJ Performance Club will bring you their show!”

The emcee’s call beat like a drum, and Tang Coco’s gaze snapped to the stage. A line of dancers stood like drawn blades; behind them, Tian Yue faced a little city of wires and knobs.

When the hall quieted, a light note lifted like a silver bird. It grew excited, heat rising, and the bass thumped like a giant heart against everyone’s ribs.

Tang Coco’s brow creased, a ripple on a pond.

“Coco-jie? Coco-jie? Are we going back?” Meng Xiaoxiao caught her stare and mistook the pull for interest.

“Wait...” Her gaze stayed like an arrow on the silhouette behind—the lone pine of Tian Yue against the cliff of machinery.

Then, with the manic beat, the dancers snapped into professional street moves, lightning in human shape, and cheers swelled like surf. Tang Coco’s suspicion settled like ink.

Tian Yue’s rhythm sat off, sand sliding off a drum. After a quiet study, Tang Coco knew the river of sound was coming from elsewhere; Tian Yue was just moving on the bank.

“Hey, what’s going on?”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Xu Yinuo blinked, clear as glass.

“It’s background music. She’s pretending.”

“Oh, that. You actually caught it. Yeah, the control room’s running the track.” The words clicked like beads on a string, and the truth dropped like a pebble in a clear pond.

“Why? Tian Yue can play.” On stage, a thin layer of ash dulled Tian Yue’s flame. Tang Coco knew she loved this; otherwise she wouldn’t guard a club with no members, a lantern in the wind.

“Ah... it started at the last rehearsal. Street Dance and DJ were supposed to be separate. Then the student union merged them, because her club’s too small—only she could go on.” Decisions cut like scissors; her solitude stood like a single reed in a wide marsh.

“During the joint run, the dancers said her playing couldn’t keep up. They asked for straight background music and had her fake it on stage...” Their words hit like hard rain; her agreeing bow bent like bamboo.

“How can they do that!” Anger leapt like a red kite into the wind. Tian Yue had helped her before; gratitude warmed like winter tea. The girl felt strong to her, a river stone that doesn’t budge.

“No choice. She chose to give in...” Xu Yinuo’s head moved like a weary willow, and resignation murmured like dusk.

“...”

Tang Coco watched the figure on stage, thoughts coiling like smoke around a small lighthouse.

“You’re not thinking of going up to help her, are you?”

“Why, can’t I?”

“I’d say don’t. It’s a live show. I know you’re great, but if you jump in now, she’ll hurt more. Better wait till it ends and comfort her.” Advice fell like snow on a blade; hurt spread like a dark bruise.

“Phew~” Her breath misted and thinned. Xu’s words made sense. Her impulse was a moth beating at glass; her old calm felt like a moonlit lake she hadn’t visited in a while.

“Come on, Xiaoxiao. Let’s go home.” She shook her head—dusk settling—and took Meng Xiaoxiao’s hand, ivy twining, their footsteps fading like rain.

“Ah...” Xu Yinuo’s sigh drifted like smoke. She couldn’t leave; duty sat like a stone. As the event director, she had to stay till the last light went out.

Tang Coco rode in Meng Xiaoxiao’s car, the engine humming like a warm beetle, and returned to Ye Yiyi’s villa, a quiet shell in the night.

“Not coming in for a bit?”

“No~ I need to go check on Lulu~”

“Alright, see you tomorrow~”

“See you tomorrow, Coco-jie~ Dress pretty tomorrow~”

“...”

Tang Coco watched Meng Xiaoxiao’s taillights slip away like twin fireflies. Helplessness hung on her shoulders like a damp shawl. She turned toward the villa—then stopped. A gaze brushed her neck, needles in velvet. Unlike at school, this one swirled with foggy layers, complicated and cold.

“Who is it...” She didn’t turn; a sudden glance would only snap the thread and alert the watcher. She folded caution like a fan, kept her back bamboo-straight, and let the door swallow her like night water.