Faith in Me

Prologue

"Daoming Si!"

His body automatically tensed as he steeled himself against the unwelcome acknowledgement. He drew in a labored breath and shot what he hoped passed as a friendly smile towards the fan who had called out to him. Quite a few years had passed since Meteor Garden first premiered and launched his career as an international star. But regardless of how many popular and well-received movies he had starred in since then, Daoming Si remained one of his most famous – if not the most famous – of his roles.

He was used to fans skewing the lines of reality and acting when they viewed him and the character of Daoming Si as one and the same. It was a phenomenon reserved solely for that role and he understood why – it had almost been effortless to slip into character because Daoming Si was very much like him. Or maybe it was because he was very much like Daoming Si. 

Young. Loud. Direct. Playful. Honest. Confident. Loyal. Childish even though adulthood loomed and beckoned in the near distance. And most pathetic of all, aching and yearning for one tiny girl in particular.

But that was then. He had changed over the years. He was no longer the optimistic, idealistic, happy-go-lucky boy he was before. Sure, he put up the necessary act to those around him. He spoke when spoken to... smiled when he should... laughed when expected. He threw himself mercilessly into his craft. He churned out hit after hit. He worked tirelessly to drum up the electric, almost contagious energy that used to roll off of him in natural enigmatic waves. He was a bona fide magnet – his demi-god looks, strong work ethic and cool persona drew people in and made him a premiere idol. But even as his success grew exponentially, he could sense the unspoken concern and avid curiosity of those close to him. The more he felt it, the more he fought against it. And most times, he was successful. His friends and family felt like something was off but he was such a good actor that they could never be sure.

But he knew. He was different. He wasn't himself. And for some god forsaken reason, it only added to his allure. He was used to women being mesmerized by his looks and screaming his name. But as he grew older, they grew bolder. Now, they blatantly followed him everywhere – nothing was sacred, not the film set, private dinners with friends, or even his parents' home in Sichuan. They hired people to try and hack into his phone to get his schedule and read his private messages. One even managed to secretly break into his hotel room. When he had returned after a long day of filming to find her uninvited and naked on his bed, he had lost it. Furiously yanking her across the room, he threw her and her clothes unceremoniously out into the hallway and slammed the door shut - consequences be damned. The press had a field day and his agency spent months after trying to clean up the mess. Privately, he was disgusted and justifiably angry. In public, he played it off as if he was amused and flattered and not at all bothered by the inappropriate invasion into his privacy.

His close friends were not fooled. Xi Ze and Xi Zi had tried to stage an intervention but he refused to talk. When they persisted, he snapped at them and insisted they leave him the hell alone. It wasn't his tone that had stopped them from ever broaching on the subject again – it was the wild look of pain they saw flash in his eyes before he banished it to God knows where.

He had always been friendly and sweet to his female admirers. But now, he treated them with thinly veiled impatience. He indulged their antics but his smile never reached his eyes, and his friends could tell that the constant barrage of female attention grated on his nerves. So when he eventually began to socialize again, to occasionally date and smile more often, to take on more adventurous roles, they let him be even if they could tell his heart wasn't fully into it. Whatever he needed to move on, they would support him. And though he never said what haunted him, they all knew never to mention her name in his presence.