Chapter 167

Under the sun, the two girls held hands like two little adults.

Andrea felt completely relieved. Although the girl named "Avril Lavigne" dressed a little unusually, she was certainly not a bad person.

The two girls continued chatting animatedly.

"Among Martin's songs, my favorite isn't his most popular track, 'Baby', but his first single, 'Unstoppable'. It's so intense. I love how the music burns with raw emotion!"

"Really? My favorite is 'That Girl'. I like the soothing melody; I can easily lose myself in it."

"Lose yourself? Yes, Martin's songs have that effect. Also, have you heard the second track from his first all-instrumental album, 'I Need Your Happiness'?"

"Of course! I've listened to all of Martin's songs and music."

"How did it make you feel? When I first heard it, it reminded me of the time I joined the church choir to learn voice and piano when I was five. It was such a wonderful experience."

"Really? You were in a church choir? What an interesting experience! I remember when I was ten, I wrote a three-page poem called 'The Monster in My Closet' that won a national poetry contest. When I got the news that I had won, I was so happy!"

"Wow, poetry? You won an award? You're amazing!" Avril praised her enthusiastically.

Andrea, who was quietly listening to their conversation, blushed slightly as she remembered the time she had brought that poem to life.

At that moment, a boy with freckles joined the conversation, proudly interjecting.

"Compared to Martin's music, I prefer his books. Do you know I've memorized all the spells from Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone?"

As he spoke, he pulled out a magic wand from his sleeve and loudly recited, "Petrificus Totalus!" (The Full Body Bind), "Wingardium Leviosa!" (Levitation Charm), "Alohomora!" (Unlocking Charm)...

It was as if a switch had been flipped. Various incantations echoed through the area, and the atmosphere suddenly turned more theatrical.

Taylor silently muttered "idiot" to herself, deciding she didn't have the patience for this middle-schooler. She pulled Avril aside.

"Avril, what do you think about me asking Martin to sign a message for me, wishing that Taylor Swift will become a super singer in the future? That would be so cool."

"That's a great idea! I'd love Martin to write something like that for me," Avril said, immediately excited.

The boy didn't seem to notice the girls weren't really engaging with him. He cut in again.

"I also want Martin to write something like, 'Wishing Rupert Grint, a boy from England, becomes a real little wizard.' What do you think of that?"

"How old are you?" Taylor Swift suddenly asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Uh, 12. Why?" The boy seemed confused.

"Where are your parents?" Taylor Swift asked again.

"They didn't want to stand in line, so they're sitting in the café across the street. I can handle it on my own now," the boy said, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Really? So your parents aren't here?" Taylor smiled slyly.

"Yeah, so what?"

"It's nothing, I was just wondering if they could hear your cry for help if I decided to beat you up right now."

As she spoke, Taylor clenched her little fists and slowly began walking toward him, pretending to look fierce. Avril stifled a giggle behind her hand.

Although Taylor was only eleven—one year younger than the boy—she was already a head taller. She moved with confidence, her steps full of purpose.

At least, that's how Rupert Grint saw it.

He stepped back, startled, and raised his hands in a panic. "I get it, I get it. I won't say anything. I just wanted to chat."

He quickly turned around, facing forward and falling silent.

Andrea rubbed her forehead. "Taylor, you can't be so rude."

"Oh, come on, Mom, I was just messing with him!" Taylor pouted, clearly entertained.

The boy, still facing forward, turned around suddenly. "Ha, I knew you wouldn't really do it."

But he quickly shrank back under Taylor's "ferocious" gaze.

"Giggle," Taylor found the boy interesting now.

At that moment, someone in the crowd began shouting Martin's name, "Martin! Martin!"

The chant spread like wildfire, with thousands of people shouting in unison.

"Martin! Martin!"

Taylor and Avril raised their arms and shouted, their excitement palpable.

The boy glanced back in fear.

Taylor, understanding the look in his eyes, called out loudly, "Okay, you can talk now."

The boy's excitement grew. His voice, still cracking with adolescence, rose higher than the girls' as he shouted, "Martin! Martin!"

The wave of shouts rippled through Times Square, across Fifth Avenue, and all the way to the mouth of the Hudson River...

In the lounge, Martin was fiddling with a newly developed MP3 player from Apple.

This particular model hadn't been released yet—it was just a prototype, a gift from Steve Jobs himself, who also happened to be a major shareholder in Martin's company.

The MP3 was pristine white, with a sleek black border around the screen. Below the display was a circular slider button, smooth to the touch. Its minimalist design was perfectly aligned with Martin's aesthetic.

Martin, however, took off his headphones, placed the MP3 on the table, and listened carefully.

He then walked over to the window, gazing at the crowd cheering outside, feeling a sense of pride swelling inside him.

The scene reminded him of the days when he'd seen Michael Jackson perform. The crowds were even larger, the volume of the chants higher, but those people were there for Michael. Now, they were all here for him.

Martin reveled in this feeling. Being the center of attention, surrounded by thousands of adoring fans, was intoxicating. It was no surprise that many stars, over time, grew out of touch with reality—caught up in their fame. But that wasn't Martin.

"Martin, it's almost time," Benjamin Georgia and Jeff Raymond walked in together, snapping him out of his thoughts.

[•———•——•———•]

𝙥𝗮𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙤𝙣(.)𝙘𝙤𝙢/𝙂𝙤𝙙𝙊𝙛𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧