Chapter 2The Billionaire's Secret Fan Account

Even though I was practically a nobody, I still had a few die-hard fans.

The moment my retirement statement went live, those familiar usernames flooded my DMs.

Among the dense sea of messages, one user named "Q" stood out.

I couldn't be more familiar with this person.

For the past five years, every time I posted an update, he was always the first to like and comment. He was my ultimate superfan.

And because he clearly used top-tier camera equipment, every photo he took of me at public events was a high-definition masterpiece.

He poured massive amounts of money into supporting me—buying billboards, organizing fan projects—so the rest of my fandom affectionately called him "Bro Q."

Clicking into his profile, his pinned post was a mega-compilation of my best video clips, along with a video of him doing a TikTok dance trend I had started.

Although he never showed his face, every movement was earnest, revealing a slight, endearing clumsiness.

But what made me remember him most were his comments.

No flowery praise, no over-the-top confessions of love. Just one simple, almost stubborn sentence every single time:

"I hope you are happy every day."

But today, he broke his usual pattern.

A massive wall of text filled the chat box.

He wrote about how he stumbled upon my videos during the darkest days of his life.

He wrote about how a random, lighthearted comment I made helped him survive a night of terrible insomnia.

He wrote about how his fingers trembled with excitement every time he saw I had updated.

Finally, as if using up all his strength, he spoke with restrained yet profound sincerity:

"I'm sorry, this might be a bit forward of me."

"But I still want to tell you... to me, you are a ray of light, a lifeline. You are the motivation that keeps me going."

"Knowing you these past five years has made me so incredibly happy every single day."

"Chloe, you are as important to me as my own life."

I stared at the screen, noticing several typos in a row.

He must have been typing frantically, his fingers trembling so much that he couldn't even press the keys properly as he broke down.

After reading his heartfelt essay, my eyes welled up with tears.

I took a moment to reply very earnestly.

"Thank you for your support and love over the past five years. I hope you are happy every day too. If fate allows, we'll meet again."