Dominate Showbiz: Media Tycoon Discovered My Talent-Chapter 70: Wardrobe

They made their way to the 12th floor and stopped in front of Room 3.

Ding dong. Kaija pressed the doorbell.

No answer.

Ding dong. She pressed it again.

Still no answer.

Now Kaija was starting to feel genuinely concerned.

"Instructor, it’s me," Kaija said, knocking on the door.

Ten minutes of repeated knocking and ringing later, she turned to the receptionist, her tone serious. "Please open the door. If he’s mad about it, I’ll take full responsibility."

Even the receptionist looked worried now, her brow tightly knit as she swiped the key card and pushed the door open.

Antony’s place was a two-bedroom flat with a spacious living room. The flat looked just as minimally decorated and perfectly orderly as his office, with a few small plants in the corners and all surfaces spotless, not a speck of dust in sight.

Still, Antony was nowhere to be found, so the two girls started checking the rooms.

"He’s not in here," the receptionist called from one bedroom. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"He’s not in here either," Kaija replied, utterly confused. The bedroom she checked seemed to be the one Antony mainly used, with his skincare bottles neatly arranged on the shelf, his laptop on the desk, and the bed perfectly made.

"You’re sure he didn’t go out?" Kaija asked when the receptionist came to the doorway.

"I’m very sure!" the receptionist confirmed. "I was at the desk the whole time since my shift started. There weren’t many people coming back today since everyone was out for the festival, so I’m certain I saw him come in at 2."

Her confirmation did nothing to ease Kaija’s worries. She leaned against the wardrobe, thinking about what to do. As her gaze dropped to the floor, she noticed a square white piece of fabric of what looked like the corner of a shirt flap, caught at the edge of the wardrobe door.

Without thinking, she bent down, one hand reaching for the fabric, the other pulling the wardrobe door open to fix the tucked shirt. But as the door swung wider, she froze.

The piece of fabric didn’t belong to a folded shirt sticking out by mistake. It belonged to the chestnut-haired man sitting inside the wardrobe, his golden eyes now tightly shut as if he were deep asleep, his head resting against the wardrobe’s inner wall.

Seeing Kaija frozen in place, the receptionist walked over, and her voice rose at once. "Oh my God, Antony!"

"Hey, easy," Kaija quickly shushed, one finger to her lips. "He’s breathing, his chest is moving. Calm down."

The receptionist’s hands flew up to cover her mouth, her throat tightening, both legs still trembling from shock.

"I’m terribly sorry for touching you, Instructor, but I have to now," Kaija muttered. Then she placed her hands on both sides of his face, patting gently.

"Instructor?" she called repeatedly under a low voice as she patted him. His skin was cool under her palm, slick with cold sweat.

No answer came. She pressed her fingers to his neck, checking his pulse, then pressed the back of her palm against his forehead.

"His pulse seems normal," Kaija said, calmly running through every first-aid step she could recall from flight safety training. "He doesn’t have a fever either, though he’s sweating a lot."

Then she turned to the receptionist. "But I still need to check his airway and the rest of him just to be sure. Will you help me pull him out of the wardrobe? I’ll support his neck, so I’ll need you to help with his lower body."

The receptionist was still frightened, but she nodded quickly and lowered herself to her knees while Kaija opened both wardrobe doors wide to give them more access. As Kaija placed her hand behind Antony’s neck and gently lifted it, his brow twitched slightly.

Her movement ceased, her breath catching.

Slowly, Antony opened his eyes, his eyelids fluttering a few times with difficulty as if adjusting to the bright light of the room.

"Instructor?" she called again, her tone more urgent this time. "Are you alright?"

When Antony’s senses finally came back to him, what he saw first was the sight of Kaija’s bright blue eyes staring straight into his, her face tight with worry.

"Dummy?" he coughed, his voice hoarse. His throat felt dry from excessive sweating and from not having had water for hours.

"Instructor, what happened?" Kaija asked, forcing her voice to stay calm. "Did someone come into your place and attack you? Did you faint?"

Antony took a moment to gather his thoughts and recall his last memories before unconsciousness took him, pinching the bridge of his nose as he pushed himself upright from the wardrobe wall. Only then did he notice the receptionist kneeling behind Kaija, her face tight with worry. His expression tensed instantly.

"I must have fallen asleep," Antony muttered, his tone irritated. He covered his forehead, pretending to have a headache. He hated being seen by anyone when he was in such a state, and now not only was Kaija in his room, but a stranger too. "I’m tired. I want to rest. Leave now."

Kaija’s face darkened at his dull conclusion and abrupt dismissal. She’d always known he was the strange and cranky type, but for him to shrug everything off after almost scaring her to death? That was just outrageous.

Behind her, the receptionist’s reaction wasn’t much better, but she knew Antony wasn’t someone she should argue with. "Thank God you’re alright, Antony," she said politely, one hand holding her heavy chest. "I should return downstairs. I can’t leave my spot for too long. Please rest well." With a final nod to Kaija, she left the room.

"Well, I guess I should leave too. I need to go back to the concert hall," Kaija said, pulling back to give him space.

She had finally gotten to see Antony before her performance, though finding him inside a wardrobe wasn’t exactly what she imagined. Still, given his current state, maybe he needed rest more than anything else.

"I came to find you because I wanted to thank you for working hard on the track, and for supporting me till the end," she added. "Thank you so much, Instructor. I hope I’ll deliver it well tonight. Not just for me, but for you too."

"Wait." Antony’s hand suddenly shot up and wrapped around her wrist, stopping her just as she rose to her feet.

Slowly, she lowered herself to her knees again, her voice softening with concern. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

"How much time do you have left before your turn?" he asked, his tone earnest.

Her gaze shifted to the clock on the wall. "About an hour or so."

His grip tightened around her wrist. "Then... can you stay just a little longer?"