Behind the Mask of Fame and Fear

Chapter 1

**Title: After Marrying King Malachai, I Became an Overnight Sensation**
Evangeline Hawthorne broke into the scene based on her looks, quickly becoming a top-tier pretty face with no real talent. One fateful day, she stumbled into a terrifying reality show.
The entire crew entered the notorious Haunted Town of Fenwick for shooting, and on the very first night… they encountered ghosts.
To make matters even more ridiculous, Evangeline was cluelessly swapped into a wedding gown, placed in a bridal sedan, and prepared for an altar ceremony as if she were to marry a ghost.
But the chaos didn’t stop there.
The crew faced another ghostly event, causing the star-studded cast in the live-stream to scream in terror and shake with fear, while viewers at home pulled their blankets tight.
Amidst the horror, Evangeline remained unfazed. Picking up a makeup kit, she turned to the grim-looking Lady Solstice and said, “Hey girl, your makeup’s a mess. Let me help you out.”
Everyone else: “…”
The viewers in the broadcast room: “What in the world? This is no pretty face, she’s definitely a bit daft!”
Remarkably, Lady Solstice actually sat still, patiently waiting for Evangeline to fix her makeup.
Audience: “This just doesn’t make sense!”
And then, the scene escalated again when they encountered yet another ghost, this time in the form of a bearded, axe-wielding specter known as Gunnar the Strong.
People weren’t just running for their lives; they were in full panic mode.
But this time around, viewers were oddly delighted.
“I want to see how Evangeline handles this!”
Evangeline brandished a pair of scissors and confronted Gunnar the Strong: “Listen buddy, that beard is really messing with your vibe. Don’t worry, I’ll give you a trim.”
To everyone’s shock, Gunnar, usually fearsome and intimidating, sat down obediently waiting for Evangeline to work her supposed magic.
Audience: “Ahhh! Evangeline, you're my goddess!”
And just like that, Evangeline skyrocketed to fame.
Soon, rumors began circulating in the entertainment industry: it didn’t matter whom you provoked; just make sure not to mess with Evangeline, or you’d find yourself in a heap of misfortune.
**The Rise to Fame**
Later, it was whispered about the offering made to King Malachai from the Realm of Men without his consent.
Having never experienced love and solely focused on his duties, King Malachai was forced into marriage.
That very night, he laid eyes on the supposed “sacrifice” meant to please him.
Dressed in an ornate phoenix crown and flowing red bridal attire, the girl was caught munching on snacks, cheeks stuffed and overflowing.
It struck King Malachai's heart hard, and he thought, having a little wife might not be so bad after all.
**In a nutshell:** “You are my exclusive offering = I am your devout follower.”
**Note to Readers:**
★ This novel is purely fictional. Please do not take it to heart; everyone should believe in science!
**Characters:**
- Evangeline Hawthorne
- Levi Knight
- King Malachai
- Lady Solstice
- Gunnar the Strong
**Setting:**
- Haunted Town of Fenwick
- The Realm of Men
- Evangeline's Chamber
---
“Bang.”
A loud thud echoed as the door burst open, and in came a booming voice.
“Evangeline! Are you still asleep? You have no idea, the internet's going wild—you’re getting roasted all over social media. How do you manage that?”
The speaker was a hefty guy with an exaggerated belly, his face filled with indignation. His eyes seemed to burn with the intent to consume the youth curled up in bed.
Still half-asleep, Evangeline groggily fumbled for the covers, feeling lost when she couldn’t find them. Reluctantly, she dragged herself up.
The young man was clad in a silly cartoon-themed pajama, his pale skin showing hints of veins beneath the surface.
His black, tousled hair fell into his eyes, but as he brushed it aside, his enchanting almond-shaped eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. He had a cute little birthmark on his nose, adding to his allure.
In summary, he was quite the dashing beauty.
Evangeline squinted, her bleary eyes locking onto the furious Levi Knight, and let out a teasing laugh.
Noticing her laughter, Levi’s frustration ignited.
“Evangeline, you think this is funny? The whole internet’s buzzing with scandal!”
“What scandal?” she replied, still confused.
Levi, now shaking his head in disbelief, scoffed, “What scandal? Just look at the ‘good friend’ you were with last night!”
He threw his iPad onto her bed.
Evangeline picked it up and gasped, staring at a blurry photo featuring her being cuddled by a man with obscured features.
“#Scandalous: Rising Star Caught in a Midnight Shenanigan with Older Gentleman#”
The comments were brutal—countless fans turned their backs on her, claiming they had supported the wrong person.
With the fans abandoning ship and the haters multiplying, Evangeline felt the reality of her situation sink in.
Having no formal training, she had burst onto the entertainment scene only three months prior, caught in the headlights by Levi Knight.
In comparison to her three exceptionally talented bandmates, her dancing resembled a stiff mannequin, and her singing sounded like a quacking duck, leaving her labeled as simply a pretty face.
But now, amid the whirlwind of chaos, the stage was set for her unexpected rise to fame.

Chapter 2

In the three months since Levi Knight took the helm of his career, he had been bombarded with meetings and networking events, leaving no time for practice, and he hadn’t even bothered to find a dedicated mentor.
He often claimed, “Wherever I stand, I’m the center of attention.”
In a world driven by social media, a few trending topics and some clever marketing could catapult anyone to stardom without the grueling training others endured.
But even the best marketing could backfire.
An unexpected leak online revealed a video of Evangeline Hawthorne clumsily rehearsing, showcasing her stiff dancing and misplaced lyrics, sending ripples across the internet as people eagerly commented on her missteps.
With her recent scandal, she became infamous—perhaps the only celebrity to thrive on controversy.
Evangeline stood there, her head bowed slightly, exposing her pale neck, resembling a swan struggling for breath.
“Look at what you did last night,” Levi taunted. “Satisfied? Feeling impressive?”
His smile faded, and a dark expression settled on his face. “Without fans, without views, you're nothing.”
Evangeline turned away, brushing off his vitriol. “What if I told you I was just helping an elderly man up and wasn’t in any compromising situation as your photo suggests...”
“And what good does that do you now? The internet thrives on sound bites. They’ll disregard your explanation and only cling to their assumptions. If you try to defend yourself, it just makes you look guilty.”
Evangeline bit her lip, silence enveloping her.
Levi sighed heavily, reaching out to pat her shoulder, but she flinched away, and his expression darkened further.
“Evangeline, think about Lord Fletcher. Having his support could be your ticket to the big time.”
He continued, “A small-time celebrity like you, with no connections, no leverage, is destined to fizzle out if you’re not propped up. Just a night of pleasure could lead to countless opportunities.”
Evangeline's gaze turned icy as she smirked internally.
Lord Fletcher had a notorious reputation for his fascination with younger men, especially the handsome ones. The thought of Levi shamelessly pushing her toward Fletcher—treating her like merchandise—made her scornful.
To her surprise, as soon as she caught Fletcher’s eye, he gravitated toward her without any introduction.
Levi slipped away, allowing the older man to try and slide his hand up her thigh.
Evangeline reacted fiercely, grabbing a bottle and smashing it over his head.
Blood splattered across her, and she felt disgust rise in her throat.
“After treating him like that, he isn’t going to back down...”
“Evangeline Hawthorne!” Levi yelled, breathless and fuming.
Drawing in deep breaths, he sneered, “It’s lucky for you that Fletcher is a forgiving man, because if not, that one swing would have landed you in prison for life. He’s offered to wipe your slate clean if you go back, but otherwise, this won’t be the last you hear of it.”
Evangeline’s expression shifted, a flicker of worry crossing her face.
Levi’s lips curled into a self-satisfied grin. He had spent years in this industry building talent, and he refused to believe that he couldn't bend Evangeline to his will.
“Well, I’ll just have to give him another reason to remember me.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” Levi shot back, mockingly. “You either go, or you pay a ten million penalty, down to the last dime.”
Evangeline clenched her fists, her eyes fixed on Levi. A sly smile crept on her lips.
“Ten million, you say?”
Levi blinked, laughter spilling out. “And how do you plan on coming up with that? Don’t forget who brought you into this game, who pulled you from obscurity.”
His animosity for Evangeline simmered just beneath the surface. If she hadn’t swung that bottle and damaged his trajectory, he wouldn’t have been chasing down Fletcher in shame, only to be kicked out. The next day, he took a verbal beating from his boss.
Years of hard work, clawing his way up from assistant to manager—now threatened by Evangeline.
Reaching into his pocket, Levi lit a cigarette, the glow of the embers glaring in the dim light, his gaze contemptuous as he took in Evangeline's impeccable features.
“If you’re serious about terminating your contract, go ahead—all I need is ten million cash, and you’re free to leave.”
With Evangeline now an online pariah, her exit from the company posed no danger.
“Fine.”
Evangeline wouldn't give Levi the upper hand. She’d decided on her exit long ago, and the current tension made it easy to finalize.
Levi laughed dismissively, pulling out a formal termination document.
The company wouldn’t care about losing someone whose name was now mud—at least not in this instance.
“Fail to produce that ten million, and we’ll see each other in court.”
He mocked her, unconsciously scratching his back.
Lately, it felt like an invisible weight was crushing him in his sleep, as if he were dying in his dreams.
In a flash, it seemed he recalled something, dismissing Evangeline with a parting shot before storming out the door, knocking a frame from the wall on his way.
Evangeline quickly set down the termination letter, readjusted the picture, and took a moment to light incense before it.
“Sorry for disturbing you, my apologies.”
Just as she placed the incense in the holder, her phone buzzed on the table.
She snatched it up and rolled her eyes: it was Benedict White. Without a moment's thought, she tossed the phone aside.
But, persistent, he called again, refusing to relent until the third ring, when Evangeline finally answered.
“Evangeline Hawthorne, I heard you’re planning to break your contract with the company.”

Chapter 3

She had just severed her contract with The Corporation barely two hours ago, and Benedict White was already in the know.
It was just as likely that Levi Knight told him, given that Levi managed their boy band and was in close contact with Benedict.
Before Evangeline could say anything, Benedict spoke to himself.
"After all this time we’ve spent together, I wouldn’t want you to be carrying a massive breach fee. I have a reality show script here from Director Ashford—are you interested?"
What a joke.
Benedict wasn’t genuinely offering her a script. He wanted to see her embarrass herself.
Since debuting, Benedict had often taken advantage of situations, flaunting his so-called "handsome" face, and pulling stunts for the cameras.
The moment she so much as displayed even a hint of annoyance, the online community would seize on it, unleashing a torrent of criticisms.
Evangeline wanted to explain herself, but her account was entirely under Levi’s control.
Levi would love for her to bait fans into thinking there was chemistry between her and Benedict. There was no room for explanation.
By the time the online storm had brewed to a climax, Benedict would pretend to rescue her from it, dragging her deeper into a hole instead.
He stepped on her to elevate himself, and then he’d hash out one last kick to see her sink helplessly.
He would never genuinely offer a script to her.
Evangeline sneered inwardly; she was certain Benedict had ulterior motives.
"This is Director Ashford's script. Although he always chooses to film in the obscure horror genre, it should suit a newcomer who lacks experience like you."
Obscure, meant low popularity, unable to hit the mainstream.
Suitable for someone inexperienced translated directly into a jab at Evangeline, insinuating she had no acting skills—just a pretty face with no substance.
Lastly, he nearly said: "This is a spot I had to humble myself to claim for you, please don’t let my trust in you go to waste."
It really left a disgusting taste in her mouth.
When he finished, he hung up.
As if he feared that with an extra second, Evangeline might actually refuse.
After a quick look at the script he sent over, Evangeline raised her eyebrows in suspicion.
Though reality shows claim to showcase everyone’s true personality without any acting required, they always have scripts.
Every participant was bound to a storyline.
They needed to create conflict points to resonate with the audience and build hype.
Furthermore, the pay was quite high—one hundred thousand per season.
If the later seasons received decent ratings, they could make five or six seasons, bringing her even closer to that breach fee.
It seemed Benedict had calculated perfectly that she would accept this script.
But there was one point to consider: the horror reality show wasn’t shot inside. It was filmed a thousand kilometers away in Ghostly City.
It carried significant risks; one misstep could be fatal.
Tsk, tsk—surviving would only mean she’d lost her place in the entertainment industry. What a shrewd play he was making.
He was essentially trying to bury her.
But.
Evangeline smirked. How would she know she couldn’t do it unless she tried?
If it worked out, she would be more than grateful to Benedict for "working so hard" to get her this script.
The next day, Evangeline signed her contract with The Ensemble.
The director appeared fierce but was surprisingly agreeable. They signed without any trouble, likely aided by Benedict’s “favor.”
Later that day, Evangeline climbed aboard the Great Wagon headed for Ghostly City.
Just as she was ready to slip into a deep sleep, the vehicle jolted and shook her awake.
Suddenly, the temperature inside the vehicle plummeted.
The clear sky quickly turned overcast, dark clouds gathering ominously.
"Plop."
A raindrop splattered against the window.
Moments later, heavy rain began to fall, the sound of droplets pounding against the glass created an eerie backdrop. The distant mountains appeared shrouded in a veil of mist.
As darkness crept in, Evangeline glanced at her watch; it was now six o'clock.
Just then, she glimpsed something at the window, a pair of embroidered shoes taking shape in the rain-soaked night, drawing closer. The tips dripped red, mingling with the rain as it slid down the glass.
She rubbed her eyes, staring harder—the strange embroidered shoes vanished.
It seemed that moment was merely a figment of her imagination.
In the next instant.
A pair of cold, pale hands pressed against her skin.
Chill ran through her, so cold she couldn’t help but shiver.
It felt as if that thing wanted to meld into her very being.
【Wooo——】
Evangeline jolted awake with a gasp, her heart racing.
When reality returned, she realized the vehicle was now filled with people; it appeared they’d picked up passengers along the way.
She sensed the wagon had stopped several times, hearing voices as folks spoke with the director.
Gradually, she dozed off again, only to wake as rain fell again.
In her hazy state, she once again saw the red embroidered shoes pressed against the window.
Only a thin layer of glass separated them, yet she felt as though the shoes were staring directly at her.
It seemed to want to say something, but they were just shoes, unable to speak.
The embroidered shoes stuck to the window, their blood-red hue trickling down the transparent barrier.
It seemed relentless, attempting to shatter the glass to come closer to her.
Evangeline felt as though those shoes resembled a person.
A living, breathing entity with thoughts.
It sounded absurd, yet it was precisely the thought that surfaced as Evangeline beheld those eerie embroidered shoes.

Chapter 4

Evangeline Hawthorne looked around anxiously as the bus she was on teemed with strangers. There was a peculiar sensation of being followed, as if something sinister was tethered to her.
In the blink of an eye, a frigid hand—like ice from the deepest depths—pressed against her skin. Streaks of crimson lipstick trailed from her eye, chilling her to the bone.
It was as if she had plunged into a frozen cavern, her blood turning to an unyielding block of ice.
The presence drew nearer, sending a haunting breath against her ear.
Her heart raced, the frozen blood within her veins igniting into a fierce flow once more.
“Plop.”
A droplet landed on her cheek. She instinctively reached up to touch it, and her breath caught in her throat.
It wasn’t just any droplet—it was blood.
Bright, shocking red.
From somewhere, a woman sobbed, her voice raw with despair. The sound reverberated from the depths, piercing her heart with unbearable sorrow, so near it felt like it emanated from within her very soul.
Yes, it was the thing hunched over her, the thing that whispered longing and vengeance.
Startled, Evangeline turned her head mechanically.
There, in a sumptuous red satin gown reminiscent of a bridal dress, was a figure whose curves pronounced a beauty that one could hardly overlook.
But—the woman had no head.
Evangeline gasped, her breath hitching in her throat. The top of her neck seemed brutally severed, as if chopped off by a cruel blade, leaving a ghastly wound that oozed shades of black with remnants of dried blood clinging stubbornly to her skin.
The gruesome sight left no room for imagination; it hung limply, staring with soulless eyes that followed Evangeline’s every movement.
When the axe had fallen, blood had sprayed everywhere, dousing the hand that wielded the weapon—the last echo of fury from the headless specter.
Evangeline felt her knees buckle as terror surged in her.
When she finally opened her eyes again, gasping for air, the unsettling scene had vanished.
Through the bus window, the rain pattered softly, yet there was no haunting figure in embroidered shoes lurking outside.
“Was that a dream?” she murmured softly to herself, wiping the sweat from her brow and releasing a small sigh of relief.
“Hey, what kind of dream did you have? A nightmare?” A voice piped up from the front seat, making Evangeline jump in her seat, her heart racing anew.
The girl leaned over, her bright pink hair styled into cute bun pigtails, her makeup adorable yet precise. She had a playful glimmer in her eye when she looked at Evangeline.
But Evangeline couldn’t shake off the odd feeling; her chin seemed awkwardly angled, poking against the seat, reminiscent of a character from a bizarre fairy tale—a cute girl with a peculiar twist.
Evangeline refused to meet her gaze, instead, her eyes compelled upward.
Was she still dreaming? Or had the line between reality and fantasy blurred once more?
In a fleeting moment, she imagined that same headless specter looming over the girl, crimson nails gliding against her cheek.
Then, the sobbing filled her ears once more, and before she could react, the headless apparition vanished in a blink.
It took a moment for Evangeline to regain her voice and reply to the girl in front of her.
“No, nothing.”
Nervously, she fiddled with a small red mark on her fingertip, a sign of her anxiety.
The girl’s eyes flashed with jealousy—Evangeline’s beauty eclipsed that of most women around.
He was too delicate, too refined to require any makeup or sculpting. Clad in a simple white T-shirt and denim jeans, there was nothing frail about him; instead, an aura of youthful vigor radiated from him.
It unnerved her—the fear that this alluring stranger might outshine her.
But she masked her envy, offering a sweet smile, extending her hand in a cordial greeting.
“Hi, I’m Miranda Greenfield, a beauty vlogger at Bean Software. It’s great to meet you.”
Unbeknownst to her, the brief flicker of envy across her features had caught Evangeline’s sharp eye, sharp enough to sense the undercurrents of emotion all too common in the entertainment industry.
“Evangeline Hawthorne.”
She didn’t feel like saying more.
“What?”
Miranda’s eyes widened, her voice rising in surprise, drawing the attention of the bus passengers.
As they turned to look at her, she flashed a smirk; her eyes flickered with malice.
Evangeline felt a coils of unease tighten in her gut.
“You’re the Evangeline Hawthorne, the one who got dragged online yesterday. I've heard you’re a target of a massive hate storm, with more critics than supporters. Is it true what they say? That you’re into girls? And that you have this thing with an older guy…?”
Miranda was sweet-faced, but her words dripped with venom.
The modern world tends to embrace various sexual orientations, but show business was merciless. Any scandal could spell doom for an artist’s career.
Miranda’s comment laid bare Evangeline’s struggle for all to see.
The stout figure in the front, Gunnar the Strong, twisted in his seat, his disgust palpable. It was as though just looking at Evangeline turned his stomach.
Meanwhile, a sharply dressed woman across from him shot Evangeline a disdainful glance.
“Hey, Assistant Harlow, if we’re stopping anywhere soon, I don’t want to be stuck in the same place with him. I’ve heard this scene is notorious; if he’s contagious, my fanbase will never forgive me.”
Miranda’s pointed barb left an icy chill throughout the bus, the atmosphere growing thick with discomfort.
Evangeline felt the divide between her and the others grow insurmountably wide.
Miranda, sensing her own triumph, playfully cupped her mouth as if apologizing, sending a pitiful look towards Evangeline.

Chapter 5

"I'm sorry! Just look at my mouth, it seems to say whatever comes to my mind. Evangeline Hawthorne, please don't be mad at me, okay?"
Miranda Greenfield blinked her eyes, supposedly playful, yet they were filled with contempt that twisted her otherwise attractive face into something unrecognizable.
Evangeline Hawthorne glanced her way but remained silent.
Triumphant, Miranda Greenfield returned to her seat, as if she had just won a battle.
Evangeline didn't respond to her taunts. His attention was drawn instead to the window nearby.
There they were again—those embroidered shoes.
This time, they weren't just outside the window; they were inside the car, disturbingly close to Miranda Greenfield. The tips of the red shoes were wet, droplets of red liquid dripping onto her shoulder.
Drop by drop, it soaked her clothing.
Miranda instinctively shivered and murmured, "Why is it so cold in here?"
As she adjusted the air conditioning, unaware, the red shoes crept closer to her shoulder, the blood staining half of her body.
In the blink of an eye, as Evangeline paid attention again, the embroidered shoes vanished.
The red shoes were like a mischievous little girl playing tricks; once they startled Evangeline, they disappeared in an instant.
"Pat, pat."
The rain outside grew heavier, and the sky darkened.
On either side of the car, thick woods were visible, suggesting that they were driving halfway up a mountain. Through the curtain of rain, the peaks loomed, shrouded in mystery.
Their destination was Ghostly City.
That night, before arriving, Evangeline had done some research online about Ghostly City.
This eerie locale was said to have been built deep in the mountains, once a burial ground where bizarre occurrences took place, rumored to be home to a great evil spirit that feasted on people.
Eventually, a local sorcerer was summoned to level the graveyard and erect Ghostly City to quell the disturbances from the buried spirit.
Once suppressed, peace returned to the area.
However, years later, a severe rainstorm triggered a landslide that buried the entire village beneath the earth.
Only Ghostly City remained, standing atop the hill.
Villagers claimed that mournful wails could still be heard from within its walls.
It was whispered that these were the spirits of Hawthorn Village, lamenting their fate.
There was much buzz online, and some entrepreneurs seized this opportunity to build a hotel near Ghostly City, drawing numerous adventure-seekers to the area.
Tonight, they would be staying at the hotel adjacent to Ghostly City.
Numerous photos of the hotel circulated online.
Evangeline opened up the images and frowned.
The photos were all blurry, as if snapped haphazardly while on the move.
One image caught Evangeline's eye—a scene littered with bright red lanterns. They filled the hallways and alleys, a seemingly endless array of round, oversized lanterns adorned with golden tassels.
In the darkness of the mountains, instead of invoking festive feelings, they amplified an eerie ambiance.
Suddenly, the vehicle jerked to a halt.
The passengers grumbled, but Evangeline continued gazing out the window.
For once more, he heard the wailing of the headless woman in red.
Her cries grew increasingly tortured, sharp enough to pierce the night.
A crunch echoed as the doors opened at both ends of the vehicle.
"Thud, thud."
A chill swept in.
Soon, someone climbed aboard from the rear of the vehicle.
The heavy footsteps echoed, each step deliberate and forceful.
Wearing a low-brimmed bamboo hat, the person's pale lips were the only discernible feature visible.
He was tall and muscular, emanating an air of danger just by his size.
Yet when his gaze flickered over to Evangeline, unease descended upon him.
What kind of gaze was that?
Those were the eyes of a malevolent spirit.
With half-open lids shrouded in a thin layer of white film, the tiny pupils locked onto Evangeline, inducing a bone-chilling sense of being preyed upon.
The rain hammered the car's roof, a symphony of sound amplified by rumblings of thunder, and flashes of lightning illuminated the figure cloaked in a poncho.
In that brief moment of brightness, Evangeline caught a look at the man, which stirred another alarm in his mind.
——Danger.
Even after the man’s gaze swept over him, Evangeline felt a lingering dread.
It was as though the earlier nightmare hadn’t ended, that he was still trapped in that realm of shadows.
The headless woman had transformed into this dangerously draped man standing before him.
Then, in the next moment, the headless woman would rip through his skin.
The man moved past the others slowly, his heavy tread eliciting nervous reactions as they instinctively recoiled.
Even Gunnar the Strong, who had earlier dismissed Evangeline so easily, could not suppress his tension under the man’s presence.
Perhaps it was Evangeline's gentle appearance that made him a target, but this man was different—strong and intimidating.
Assistant Harlow quickly introduced the newcomer to the group.
"Everybody, this is our guide for this trip, William Fairchild. He'll be showing us the way to Ghostly City."
William Fairchild appeared cold and indifferent, offering only a curt nod to everyone.
Then his gaze settled ominously on Evangeline's direction.

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