Thug and Idol: 10X Rewards Second Identity System

Chapter 198 The power of gospel truth

An hour later.

The hospital room was sterile blue and white. It was an expensive place to rest in, but a private one. The nurses were paid enough to not spread gossip—or at least they were supposed to be.

Tristan still eyed the one that came to adjust Nelson's health monitors until she left.

His friend was lying in the hospital bed, still unconscious. There was an oxygen tube attached to his nose, and several electrodes connecting him to the machines nearby.

Tristan was leaning against a nearby wall. He felt even worse than before—definitely sick now. Just standing for prolonged periods of time was exhausting. However, he couldn't afford for this to be seen right now.

There were two other people in the room: Derek, who traveled to the hospital as soon as Tristan told him what happened and where Nelson was going to be, and the doctor who treated him.

"I must say, this is a strange case," Dr. Megglin said. "You are truly sure that Mr. Mayar didn't have a history of diabetes or heart-related diseases in his past or running in his family?"

Derek's lips, so often smiling, were pressed thin. His bee-like yellow and black tie clashed terribly with the mood and the surroundings.

"Mr. Mayar went through medical examinations in the past, and was given a clean bill of health each time. He's—until now, he had been a perfectly healthy young man. Not even any allergies."

He would know—managing medical documents was one of his responsibilities. And Derek insisted that artists under his watch passed general health checkups twice a year, usually before a tour.

Tristan knew that all, because he was yet to pass his own checkup.

'But if there will be no tour, there will be no checkup... yet, at least.'

Dr. Megglin sighed.

"Please, I'm not trying to offend you. I'm just making sure, because... Well, if there was a history of either in Mr. Mayar's past, it would've made things much clearer. But I have good news, too. Right now, Mr. Mayar's state seems to be stable. We still have life support on standby, just in case."

"You can't tell anything AT ALL about this sickness?" Tristan asked. "You did a blood sugar test, didn't you?"

"Yes, Mr. Gemello. Mr. Mayar's blood sugar was perfectly alright, as far as a quick test could tell. But nothing is conclusive yet."

Tristan frowned.

He knew this much, and he still wanted to pester the doctor with more questions and demands. Run a full blood test, make scans...

Derek rubbed his face with his hands.

"So there's nothing for us to do but wait."

Dr. Megglin nodded.

"Yes. The visiting hours are posted on the hospital's website and in the lobby. There's also a list of items allowed to be brought in. Don't worry about paparazzis, this wing's security is very strict. Besides you two and his personal assistant, no other visitors were listed in Mr. Mayar's 'trusted persons' field, so not even family members will be allowed."

"Yes? Is there something wrong? Derek, I know that showbiz is a pit of snakes. I'm a snake myself. But you are a rare good person."

Derek smiled.

"Thank you for your words—and I think you are being too harsh on yourself here. But yes—a pit of snakes. People can be very cutthroat sometimes, and very vicious oftentimes. I try my best to remember that most of these people just repeat other bad examples in their lives, but my patience isn't eternal, either."

Tristan smirked.

"Yeah? I thought it was. I thought that was why you were assigned to me in the first place."

When Tristan saw how Derek tensed for a moment, he grinned widely.

'I was only joking—but the joke is true! Ha-ha, well, I didn't have any complaints back when I met Derek, and I sure don't have them now.'

"Either way, Mr. Gemello, what I wanted to say is that this article made me think vividly about all the worst examples of celebrity behavior I've witnessed in my life. For a moment, just for a moment, I thought that maybe the good parts of show business weren't worth the bad parts."

Derek paused.

"And there are so many people out there who are on the fence about show business already, or don't care either way. So many of them were swayed harder than me! It's already starting in the comments."

"I see..." Tristan frowned. "I really will have to read it."

His mind was whirling already and mostly failing to produce anything. His mind was sick, like him.

'I already thought that Ass-Angel might've made me and Nel ill somehow. Maybe this is how. Or maybe I'm just putting events together because they happened at the same time. What kind of investigation is this? Shit, I'm one step behind and I HATE it. And this man...'

Tristan rubbed his tired eyes.

"Mr. Gemello, please put on your seatbelt. Try not to worry about Nelson and get some good rest yourself, before I will need to visit two people in the hospital..."

Tristan nodded at Derek.

"Yeah, yeah... Sure."

As soon as the seatbelt was on and Derek started the car, Tristan gathered his mental strength and opened his phone. It took no time at all to find the article Derek had been talking about.

It was every bit as vitriolic as Derek described, and somehow more. The more Tristan read, the more he felt like a complete asshole for being in showbiz in the first place.

He was just there for attention, anyway. Attention, love of the public... if he only wanted to make art, he could've posted it anonymously. He could've been a recluse, like Angelo.

Even his criminal career seemed to be more honest and moral than his pop-star one. At least as a criminal, Tristan didn't lie about being a piece of shit.

'Wait, what am I even thinking about?!'