Chapter 141 - 140: Fat-Loss Meal
Joanna Kennedy rubbed her face and glanced at the time on her phone. 8:00 AM. She finally let out a sigh of relief, certain that it had all been just a dream.
’Dreams really are the opposite of reality,’ she thought. ’Simon Lockwood must have a shred of humanity after all; he didn’t wake me up for a run.’
On the bedside table, there was a pale yellow ceramic mug. It was holding down an exam paper, which had a sticky note on it.
On the sticky note, the man’s neat, crisp handwriting read: Come downstairs for breakfast. I’ll pick you up tonight.
She had to go to rehearsal for the Mid-Autumn Festival Gala today.
’Hmph. He’s been snooping on my schedule again, that jerk,’ Joanna grumbled internally, but a smile touched the corners of her eyes.
After washing up, she picked up the ceramic mug. The warm water soothed her dry throat as she drank.
She couldn’t resist taking a few more sips, and after finishing the entire cup, she picked up the exam paper to look it over.
’Only two questions wrong. Simon Lockwood has to give me a reward for this,’ Joanna thought gleefully. She reviewed the incorrect answers, then carefully folded the paper and placed it at the very front of her test folder.
Joanna had just finished breakfast when Julie arrived. On the way to the rehearsal, Julie complained indignantly, "Jojo, you have no idea! There’s this huge Owen Jennings fan who’s been stirring up trouble all day, saying you’re intentionally riding his coattails for publicity!"
For this year’s Mid-Autumn Festival Gala, the preliminary program listed Joanna Kennedy and Owen Jennings in the same performance.
Joanna had been a little surprised when she found out, too. While she was gaining some popularity, she was nowhere near Owen Jennings’s level of stardom.
Ultimately, it looked like she was the one getting the better end of the deal—though it wasn’t a deal Joanna was particularly eager to accept.
As soon as the program list leaked, some of Owen Jennings’s solo stans completely lost it.
A popular ship, performing in the same act... If this aired, the shippers would go absolutely wild. The thought alone was enough to set Owen Jennings’s "girlfriend fans" off, and they all started flaming her online, with one influential fan leading the charge with particular viciousness.
Her tongue was so sharp, you’d think she’d spent a past life shucking corn.
Joanna hadn’t been scrolling on her phone for the past few days, so she was completely unaware. Hearing her assistant’s words, her expression remained unchanged. "I’m not even mad, so why are you? Let them rant. All they can do is run their mouths, anyway."
Back when she was a top-tier star, she’d been flamed so badly she nearly quit the entertainment industry. She’d survived that. This was nothing more than a light drizzle.
Julie was still fuming. "I just think it’s unfair."
Whenever a ship is pushed, it’s the actress who gets eighty percent of the hate.
Why was the industry so forgiving toward male celebrities? Couldn’t they see it was Owen Jennings who was actively cozying up to her Jojo?
Her Jojo was so beautiful and had an amazing boyfriend like Mr. Lockwood. There was no way she’d be interested in Owen Jennings.
"Alright, alright, my dear Leo," Joanna coaxed. "I’ll give you a big red envelope for the Mid-Autumn Festival."
Julie’s eyes instantly lit up, and she stopped complaining.
Backstage at the TV station, several rooms had been cleared out specifically for rehearsals. Just as Joanna walked in, she saw Owen Jennings, who had arrived before her.
Owen Jennings was wearing a loose white hoodie and wide-leg jeans, giving him a very youthful, college-student vibe.
"Jojo, long time no see!" Owen Jennings greeted her with a playful grin.
Joanna offered a polite smile. "Long time no see."
The girl’s smile was faint, clearly drawing a line between them. Owen Jennings raised an eyebrow and wisely chose not to say anything more.
Since they were both actors and couldn’t very well perform a scene on stage, they opted for the standard choice: singing. The gala’s organizers gave them a list of songs to choose from.
"Jojo, you pick. I’m good with whatever," Owen Jennings said, handing her the list of songs.
Joanna politely gestured it back toward him. "It’s fine. It doesn’t matter who picks. You go ahead."
To her surprise, Owen Jennings readily agreed. "Alright, then. Let’s do this one."
Joanna: "..."
Joanna followed his finger to the song title he was pointing at. She gave it a cursory glance, not particularly concerned. "Sure."
’Owen Jennings has to sing it too, so it’s not like I care what song we pick.’
Her vocal tone was pleasant, and while her pitch wasn’t as precise as a professional singer’s, her voice was still easy on the ears.
And as for Owen Jennings, he had professional music training. His singing was easily on par with the original artist.
’Tsk, tsk. A child star, truly a different breed,’ Joanna mused, her opinion of him shifting slightly. ’Say what you will, but the guy’s got real talent.’
After running through it twice to get familiar with the lyrics and melody, it was lunchtime. Owen Jennings took the initiative. "Want to grab a bite together?"
"Better not," Joanna said, holding up her hands in a helpless gesture. "If we get photographed, you’ll have a hard time explaining it to your ’girlfriend fans.’"
Owen Jennings frowned. "Why would I need to explain anything to them?"
"Because someone might try to force a kiss on you," Joanna said with a slight pout. "I’m just looking out for you, Superstar Jennings."
Her voice was clear and bright, making it sound as if she were genuinely concerned for him—if you ignored the passive-aggressive undertones.
Owen Jennings: "..."
Owen Jennings’s expression darkened, the comment clearly dredging up some unpleasant memories. His voice was stiff. "I told you, that person wasn’t my fan. Someone deliberately—"
"Uh-huh, uh-huh. Right, right," Joanna cut him off, a broad smile on her face. "I believe you. Someone’s always out to get you."
Owen Jennings: "..."
Owen Jennings stalked off in a huff. Joanna was left to ponder what she should have for lunch. ’Barbecue? Hot pot?’
Julie had already placed a familiar food container in front of her. "This was just delivered."
Julie’s voice was brimming with envy.
’Food from Simon Lockwood.’ Joanna gulped and eagerly opened the container. When she saw what was inside, she froze.
Broccoli, a hard-boiled egg, corn, steak, green grapes, and a bowl of bitter melon and egg soup. ’Well, it’s a varied spread, and the presentation is nice,’ she thought.
’But... why isn’t there a single speck of chili?!’
’When I said I was on a diet, I meant restricting my portions, not eating this bland, tasteless stuff!’
"Oh, a diet meal. How lavish," Julie commented, glancing over as she opened her own container of malatang. She picked up a strand of beef tripe with her chopsticks and popped it into her mouth.
The savory, numbing, and spicy aroma instantly wafted over. Joanna gulped and leaned in close. "How about we trade?"
Julie’s eyes went wide. She clutched her malatang protectively. "I wouldn’t dare."
Joanna: "..."
Joanna fumed, resentfully gnawing on her corn on the cob.
「Southland Group, Top-Floor CEO’s Office.」
Simon Lockwood ate the exact same diet meal. When he finished, he carried the tray into his private lounge.
At some point, the private lounge inside the CEO’s office had been converted into a kitchen, fully equipped with a refrigerator, a range hood, and a complete set of pots, pans, and dishes.
Jack Warren came in to deliver some documents. He scanned the office, and upon hearing the sound of running water from the inner room, he rolled his eyes in exasperation.
’What kind of CEO turns his private lounge into a kitchen and holes up in there to cook every day at mealtime?’
’He seriously suspected that Simon Lockwood’s so-called "emotional disorder" was long gone. Either that, or he’d been secretly injecting himself with Kenley Kim’s psychiatric drugs until his brain chemistry was completely out of whack!’
With the Mid-Autumn Festival approaching, all projects had to be wrapped up. Southland didn’t do makeup workdays; you got the holidays you were owed, and that was it. For the past few days, Jack Warren had been swamped.
’As the man in charge, my boss should be even busier than me. Where on earth did he find the leisurely mood to cook?’ To this day, Jack Warren still couldn’t fathom it.