Whispers of Fame [PondPhuwin] OG

Rehearsal

Phuwin arrived at the venue for the Kazz Magazine Awards rehearsal, feeling a heavy weight on his shoulders. The grand hall was already buzzing with activity as staff members and organizers moved about, setting up equipment and arranging seating. The opulent chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and the red carpet laid out along the pathways added an air of grandeur, but Phuwin's mood was far from celebratory.

He clutched his bag tightly, hoping to blend into the background and avoid any unnecessary attention. The thought of facing people after the recent online debacle with Pond made his stomach churn. He had spent the last couple of days anxiously scrolling through social media, reading the barrage of negative comments and sensationalized news headlines that painted him as an attention seeker, a user capitalizing on Pond's fame.

"Phuwin, over here," a young intern called, breaking his reverie. She guided him to a side room where scripts were being handed out to the emcees. Phuwin tried to focus on the task at hand, but his mind kept drifting back to the flood of criticisms and speculations he had been subjected to online.

He was quickly directed to a table where a stack of scripts awaited distribution. As he skimmed through the pages, trying to absorb his lines and cues, he couldn't help but overhear snippets of conversation from the staff around him. His heart sank as he picked up on the gossip about the recent chaos involving him and Pond.

"Did you see the livestream? It was all over the internet," one voice said.

"I heard Pond left right after. Must have been awkward," another chimed in.

"Phuwin's probably using Pond for publicity. It's so obvious," a third remarked.

Phuwin's grip tightened on the script, his knuckles turning white. He felt a wave of despair wash over him, the hurtful words echoing in his mind. Trying to keep his composure, he took a deep breath and focused on the lines in front of him.

Just then, Patricia, the lead event coordinator, walked into the room. She was a sharp-eyed woman in her early forties, known for her meticulous attention to detail and no-nonsense attitude. As she handed out additional materials to the other emcees, her gaze fell on Phuwin. She noticed his downcast expression and the way he seemed to shrink into himself.

Patricia approached him, her voice gentle but firm. "Phuwin? Here's your final script for the rehearsal."

Phuwin looked up, managing a weak smile as he took the script from her. "Thank you."

She nodded, her eyes studying him for a moment. "You okay? You seem a bit off today."

Phuwin hesitated, not wanting to burden her with his troubles. "I'm fine. Just a little tired, I guess."

Patricia didn't press further, but she could tell there was more to it. As she moved away, she overheard more of the staff's gossip and put two and two together. She realized that Phuwin's gloomy demeanor had everything to do with the whispers behind his back.

Determined to address the issue discreetly, Patricia gathered the staff around and spoke in a low but commanding voice. "I expect professionalism from all of you. That means no gossiping about our guests or each other. We have a job to do, and I expect everyone to focus on that."

Her words had the desired effect, and the staff quickly dispersed, returning to their tasks with a newfound focus. Patricia then returned to Phuwin, giving him an encouraging smile. "Don't worry about them. Just focus on your part. You're here because you're good at what you do."

Phuwin nodded, feeling a bit more at ease. "Thank you, Patricia."

With the support of the lead coordinator, Phuwin felt a renewed sense of determination. He knew he had to put the negativity behind him and concentrate on the rehearsal. The chaos on the internet would have to wait; for now, he needed to give his best for the awards show.