Chapter 31 - I Wish You'll Be Forever Young

He changed his demeanor completely. "Of course. You should gain as many chances as you can, with you being so young. That way, you would be famous, and even if you grow old and people don't remember you, you have a legacy. Just like my paintings. Even if the price of that is your own degradation."

Ashton's smile faltered a bit in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The show business is not always a constant stream. Ryan Gosling and Tom Cruise had their scandals, all famous actors do. Whether or not that's true, we're living in a time where people strive to look for dirt on other people." 'Henry' said, his glasses glinting. "The older you get, and the more famous you are, the more these people will be. But these hateful types of people aren't the ones you should be worried about."

Ashton gulped. If it's not haters he's warning about, who then?

'Henry' seems to be able to read his mind. He smiled. "Like I said, people are shallow. They'd rather appreciate how beautiful the artist is, not the art."

"Yeah, I remember you telling me that already." Ashton nodded. But what does that have to do with this?"

"What I didn't tell you yet.....the beauty of the art lasts forever, the artist's doesn't." 'Henry' give him a look from head to toe, then going back painting like he couldn't care any less about the real person in front of him, proving his own point

"Once you grew wrinkles... Once the passage of time and everything you have done, every failure and suffering was visible for all the world to see from your warts and graying hair..... the very people who loved you will soon leave you. That's how society is nowadays."

"It's not those who hate you that you should worry about. It's the 'fans' that will soon grow tired of you."

The actor looked down, lost in thought, like he was absorbing these words with his very own soul. Henry is speaking the truth. He can feel it, the words reverberating inside him.

But Zhe Chouhen knew better. He's using hypnotic suggestions again.

"So I want to paint you now, before you lose your youth. And let the world see that this is the Ashton I know off in the present, and even if he is not the same in the future, at least he is immortalized in my piece----"

"What do you mean?" Ashton panicked. "You're going to post that on the internet?"

"Yes, well, Mr. Zeilreg is pushing me to earn more following through social media. So whether or not I want to, I have no choice, really." 'Henry' chuckled. "But at least, I found a significance in doing so. It wouldn't be as vain as I thought to post my art 'just for clout'. It would be deeper to post my friend for the world to behold his beauty."

"I.... But, I....." Ashton felt something on his throat, kind of like both sweet candy and a bitter pill mixed into one.

Henry's adoration for him is true, he could feel it. The way he sees his beauty in a way even he could not, gave him such a wonderful and fuzzy feeling. There's nothing comparable to the sensation of being..... admired that much. But the truths he said were also hurtful. It was like a self-fulfilling prophecy.

He spoke of people only caring for his beauty, and here he was, sharing that beauty haphazardly with the world. To 'immortalize' him.

But the only immortal is him in the picture. Ashton felt so suffocated by the thought of it, like he was being buried alive. Meanwhile, that painted Ashton is still with Henry, and would always be the object of his affection even if he died.

"Ah, here it is!" 'Henry' grinned at the piece in front of him.

Ashton was so lost in these thoughts that he didn't notice 'Henry' had already been bending his knees to paint the lower parts a long time ago. He used the wheeled cart to turn it around and place it by the wall. The sunlight in their window cast it in a beautiful flourish.

"All it needs is to dry, then I will put the varnish to make sure the paint doesn't fade easily. Oh, it's truly wonderful, don't you think? I captured your beauty quite well." 'Henry' turned to him.

His clothes were dirty and even his arms were caked in dried reds and yellows and blues, his curly black hair ratted from work. But he looked as happy as can be.

That's not how Ashton felt when he saw the painting.

It was too beautiful. Too beautiful to be him. It was made with such careful detail that it could not just be a painting itself, but the personification of undying reverence. The golden locks framing the face that can thwart the icy poles of the Earth, the way it was sculpted showed every piece of memory that the creator cherished with the subject. Sitting on a sofa with only a white tank top and lazy joggers, it still held the presence of a Renaissance masterpiece thanks to the artist's skill.

But technicalities aside, what truly makes it special is that you can feel the heart of the painter itself, suddenly becoming your own, beating through you to show his love, his Eros, through this person, this canvas.

The original source of the painting felt envy. So strong and pure, that he could kill because of it.

"It's beautiful..." He muttered, reaching out to the canvas. "So beautiful..... Is this really me?"

"Yes. Don't touch it, it's not dry yet." 'Henry' grabbed his wrist gently.

"Oh, right.... yeah..... Good job, Henry. And thank you, for such a beautiful painting." He looked down, a little flustered by how he was acting. But his envy became stronger.

'Henry' was protecting that painted Ashton from being ruined by him. He really cares for it.

How will he react if were to destroy it?

"Yes....." 'Henry' took a picture of it with his phone, posting it on his Instagram. He's not famous yet, but there are still twenty thousand followers at least. "Beautiful indeed..... Doesn't such beauty and youth make one happy?"

"Yes, but it's also sad."

'Henry' tilted his head, acting like he doesn't know how Ashton is feeling. "Sad? How so? You don't like it?"

"I like it a lot, but....." Tears streaked on Aston's eyes before he could stop them. He tried, and tried, but they kept flowing. "Sorry.... I don't know why I'm like this. It's so sad that I would grow old and kick the bucket eventually, but this painting wouldn't. He would stay in the hearts of people, and you would see him every day. And maybe in the far, far future, thousands of years from now, an archeologist will find him in our apartment's site, and never knew that he was me. They'll never know who I am, just this beautiful painting."

He hid his face with his hands and broke down on the cushions of the sofa, sobbing.

(The painting is nothing, it is you that is beautiful.) Zhe Chouhen wanted to say to comfort him. (A painting can't feel the emotions you do, say the words you say, love and laugh the way you do. So don't cry, Ashton. Even if you do not last forever, at least you are the authentic one, not this painting made out of vanity and pride.)

(And once I leave this world, it is the beautiful you that I will remember, and the beautiful memories we made together, not your physical beauty.)

But since he could not act OOC, he held these words back, and went by his side, saying the usual script.

"I did not know you would be affected by it this much." 'Henry' hugged him from behind. "If this painting really made you think such hurtful thoughts, I'll destroy it. I'll delete the post."

Zhe Chouhen already knows how Ashton will answer to this, but a part of him still hoped that he wouldn't.

"No!" Ashton turned to him and hugged him to stop him from standing up. "Don't kill him! It will be murder!"

Very much like the original source Daoist Panda drew inspiration to, 'Henry' just gave a cold chuckle. "I appreciate you liking my painting now, but it still upsets me that you were upset by it. How about I just don't post it?"

"No. You shouldn't keep him away from the world either. Henry, he should be free to be known by as much people as he can. He should be free to be loved by everyone, because he is created to be like that." Ashton wiped his tears.

"Unlike me. I could only wish to be immortal like him and beloved by all, but I know that's not possible. I could only wish we switched places, I wouldn't mind if I would stay caged forever in this canvas just to have the same opportunity he has to be adored and beautiful forever. Don't take it away from him."

This dialogue really gives Zhe Chouhen hives, his insides turning and his flight-or-fight response alerted. It sounded so sick. For Ashton to speak like this, the first sign of him losing his mind, all because of that fucking manipulator.....

That he himself is playing as.

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"It's begun, Daoist Panda. Sigh.... What's the point of all this?"

After he consoled Ashton, they didn't speak much. The house suffered in loud silence. He lay in his bed, very exhausted.

Lying to someone, being something you're not, is really exhausting.

[Just hold on a bit longer. Focus on the Meters, don't think to much of what you say or do. We can cheat the rules I made by your technique from the last book, earn enough Satisfaction by acting Scum so that once you go the 'Redemption Route', you wouldn't get a negative. Don't get too affected by your emotions.]

"That's not what I meant, Panda-laoshi." He stretched his arms and yawned. "What's the point of my life itself? How did it get to this?"

Panda was baffled by this, and anxious about how the conversation is going. He turned it into light-hearted teasing instead. [Was Henry's emo-ness rubbing off on you? What about that smug hater whose self-confidence was off the roof before?]

"I didn't change much from that hater yet. I just sometimes get distrustful of fate itself. If fate is real, what's the purpose of this happening to me, of having you bring me to these worlds to suffer these moral dilemmas and unethical dramas?" Zhe Chouhen scoffed. "But if fate isn't real and there's only free will, then that means all of these is my own fault. Which doesn't make any sense."

"As petty as it sounds, I just sometimes want to scream and shout, 'What did I do to deserve this'?"

Daoist Panda went silent, because he knows the answer.

Yet he can't let him know.

[Do you believe in fate? That some people are just meant to meet?]

"Not really. Or, to be more precise, I didn't think too much about it." Zhe Chouhen took off his glasses, and let his vision be blurry for a while, to experience some peace. "But what I felt for Daniele... I have no explanation for it. It started when I saw him, and the more time I spent, it just grew stronger. Like a connection, starting with a single string, and then increasing every day. Until I completely pulled towards him."

He looked at his own vague silhouette of a hand. "And I'm scared it's happening with Ashton again. If it's not fate, what is it? What's the science behind it?"

"Can you answer that, Panda-laoshi?"

The panda went quiet.

Because this is something he also knows the answer to. But....

[I..... I don't know. You better sleep, this day is getting too draining for you the more you become philosophical.]

It is not that he cannot tell him the answer. It's more that he doesn't want to.

He's too afraid to tell him.

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