Yet when he looked at Hera’s calm, unbothered smile, so composed, as though the expense were little more than pocket change, his worry slowly lted away. Only then did it truly sink in who she was now: surrounded by powerful, successful people, and a successful woman in her own right, soone with both influence and resources to spare.
At that realization, he couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. It seed he ought to worry about his own finances first before fretting over hers.
"Logan is just changing out of his stage clothes and resting for a bit," the Music Director explained with a smile. "After all, he perford three consecutive songs. Please, allow to guide you to his lounge."
He gestured ahead, clearly eager to accommodate them. Logan’s lounge was spacious enough to host Hera and her entourage, though the more imposing bodyguards would naturally remain stationed outside.
Hera nodded in acknowledgnt. Zhane imdiately began pushing her wheelchair forward, and the Music Director turned to lead the way. With that, the group followed behind, the atmosphere relaxed yet quietly celebratory as they moved toward the lounge.
Not long after, they arrived at the lounge farthest down the corridor, which had been designated as Logan’s private lounge and dressing room. Inside, the staff were helping him remove his stage makeup and change out of his performance outfit.
He was drenched in sweat and visibly exhausted, so worn out that he could barely lift his arms on his own, prompting a few male staff mbers to assist him carefully.
Just as they finished settling outside the room, the Music Director stepped forward and knocked.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
"Logan, Miss Hera is here to see you," he said through the door, careful not to open it prematurely. "Are you finished changing?"
But before the Music Director could finish speaking, a loud thud echoed from inside the room, followed by a muffled groan. A second later, the door flew open, and Logan’s face popped into view, right in front of the Music Director.
A conspicuous red bump had already ford on his forehead.
The Music Director didn’t need to ask what happened. Judging by Logan’s flushed face and barely contained excitent, it was obvious that he had stumbled in his haste and collided with sothing. Since the evidence was painfully clear, everyone tactfully pretended not to notice.
Inside the room, however, the staff weren’t quite as composed. Several of them were biting their lips, shoulders trembling as they struggled to suppress their laughter. As for Hera and the others, they could only imagine how spectacular Logan’s stumble must have been for the scene to look like this.
At the sa ti, Hera couldn’t bring herself to laugh. Logan reminded her of an overexcited puppy, one that heard its owner coming ho and sprinted toward the door at full speed, only to trip on the stairs, then scramble back up as if nothing had happened, while its tail wagged furiously.
"Sister Hera! Co in!" Logan exclaid, pulling the door open wide. "Please sit inside first. I’ll finish cleaning up in a bit. It’s cooler inside, and there are cold drinks... and hot ones too!"
He gestured enthusiastically for them to enter. Behind him, the staff hurriedly cleared away the used clothes and stage items. Logan had already changed into a black hoodie and black pants, but his hair was still a ss, and half of his face remained dusted with foundation.
It was obvious he’d rushed out in the middle of having his makeup removed, too excited to wait a second longer.
Seeing him like this, Hera smiled warmly and nodded. Once she agreed, Zhane pushed her wheelchair into the lounge and guided her toward an empty space beside the sofa, carefully positioning the wheelchair there before taking the single armchair next to her.
The rest followed suit. Since Logan was still in the middle of having his foundation removed, everyone remained quiet until he finally stood up from the makeup stool.
"Sister Hera, I’m really happy you ca to my concert," Logan said with a wide, sincere smile. "And I’m even happier that you managed to co despite your busy schedule."
Earlier, when Hera had taken her seat in the center of the front row, Logan had spotted her the mont he stepped onto the stage. Seeing the person who had shown him the light instantly eased his nerves.
Instead of feeling anxious, he felt an overwhelming urge to shine even brighter, to prove that she hadn’t made the wrong decision by giving him a chance, by reaching out a hand when no one else did.
That single glance at her had fueled him through the entire performance. He poured everything he had into those songs, and now, standing here, he felt that this successful debut owed more to her than anyone else.
"No need to thank . We’re friends, this is only natural." Hera smiled gently before getting straight to the point. "I ca to invite you, and the rest of the crew, to dinner. If you’re free, you’re welco to join us. If you already have other plans, then we’ll do it another ti. How does that sound?"
She didn’t beat around the bush. As for the autograph, Cherry could always ask for it after dinner, when everyone was relaxed and in a better mood.
"Really?!" Logan’s eyes lit up instantly, his exhaustion forgotten in an instant. "That’s great! I’m totally free!"
Ever since he had chosen Hera as his muse, spending more ti with her felt like a blessing. Being around her gave him inspiration, fuel for his music, and confidence in himself. This invitation couldn’t have co at a better ti, and he accepted it without the slightest hesitation.
"Alright then, let’s go together. I’ve already arranged the venue, so there’s no need to worry, just follow us there," Hera said with a bright smile.
As soon as she spoke, the staff exchanged glances, uncertainty flickering across their faces. Was she inviting them too? Almost instinctively, they turned toward the Music Director. When he nodded in confirmation, their doubts vanished.
Realization dawned all at once, and with it ca visible excitent. Smiles spread across their faces, and the atmosphere instantly lightened. Their movents quickened as they packed up the equipnt and tidied the lounge, chatter and laughter filling the room.
The exhaustion from the long day seed to fade, replaced by renewed energy and genuine enthusiasm.
After waiting for Logan and the staff to finish up, it took them only about an hour to wrap things up. The remaining work would be handled the next day, as the staff only needed to transport the essential equipnt back to the warehouse and office for storage.
Everything else could be left behind since the venue had tight security. Naturally, they prioritized taking away the most expensive items, such as the professional sound equipnt, caras, and other valuable devices, to avoid any risk of damage or loss.
Not long after, all the equipnt was loaded onto trucks and vans bound to head to the company warehouse. The staff boarded the bus arranged by the company, while Logan, the Music Director, and Logan’s assistant rode in Logan’s company-assigned nanny van.
Hera and her group returned to the vehicles they had arrived in, her convoy taking the lead as promised, armored SUVs flanking the front as her bodyguards moved in formation.
Since Hera was treating everyone, her convoy naturally led the way. Excitent buzzed through Logan’s team; whispers filled the bus as they speculated about the dinner venue. So guessed a popular restaurant, others imagined a private dining hall; no one dared to think too extravagantly.
That was, until the vehicles slowed to a stop.
One by one, heads turned toward the towering building ahead. Conversations died mid-sentence. Eyes widened. A few people nearly forgot to breathe.
When they finally saw the na gleaming on the signboard, disbelief washed over them all. For a mont, no one spoke, each of them wondering if their eyes were playing tricks on them, because there was no way... absolutely no way... they were really dining there.
Why?
Because Hera’s convoy had just entered Golden Dragon Pavilion Restaurant, a place renowned as a place for the ultra-wealthy.
It was a na they had only ever heard whispers about, a restaurant so exclusive that most people never even caught a glimpse of its interior.
The closest they had co was through Hera’s occasional social dia posts, which were the serene shots of a crystal-clear lake, an ornate wooden boat drifting lazily across the water, diamond crystals dangling from a parasol above it, every image dripping with understated extravagance.
But seeing it in person was an entirely different matter.
None of them had ever imagined that Hera would bring all of them here, dozens of staff included. As the realization sank in, several people instinctively swallowed, their excitent instantly mixed with disbelief. Just the thought of the bill was enough to make their scalps tingle.
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