I followed a comfort streamer on a sleep aid app. He never showed his face, But his voice was soft. .
Every night, I’d fall asleep listening to his live streams.
We’d even planned to attend his offline fan meet-and-greet.
One day, my best friend, Brooke, dragged me to a boxing gym to try it out.
That’s where I met her cousin, Asher, who worked as a sparring partner.
The guy was all rippling muscles, with an intense, almost menacing gaze. He was pounding a punching bag, radiating raw, masculine energy.
I accidentally slipped, crashing straight into him and knocking the water bottle he’d just opened right out of his hand.
He frowned, growling, “Hey, back off, you’re costing me money!”
I quickly apologized. When he spoke, his voice was gravelly and rough as sandpaper, clearly from too much smoking and drinking.
But then he took a call, lowering his voice to soothe the person on the other end, and that tone… it was identical to the streamer I adored.
I froze on the spot.
“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!”
I scrambled off him, fumbling to pick up the spilled water bottle.
Water was everywhere, soaking his black workout pants.
His name was Asher Vance, and he was my best friend Brooke Miller’s cousin.
Brooke grabbed my arm, grinning as she introduced me. “Asher, this is my best friend, Chloe Sterling. Don’t be such a brute, you’ll scare her.”
Asher shot me a glance, full of impatience, and grunted a greeting from deep in his throat.
He bent to pick up a towel next to the punching bag, wiping sweat from his forehead. The line of his neck was incredibly sexy.
But his face, though handsome, was cold.
Brooke tried to smooth things over. “Don’t mind him, Chloe. My cousin just has a terrible temper, but he’s not a bad guy.”
I shook my head, indicating it was fine.
But my mind was racing.
That phone call just now, especially that lowered “Shhh, easy there, I’ll be back soon,”—that gentle, magnetic, almost breathy murmur.
It was exactly the same as Whisperwind, the sleep aid streamer I listened to every night.
But how could that be possible?
Whisperwind was the ultimate gentle male idol, kind, patient, who would read poetry in the dead of night and softly answer fans’ emotional questions.
And the Asher Vance standing before me? Volatile, aggressive.
It was the ultimate expectation versus reality clash. No, they were entirely different species.
My mind went blank. I didn’t hear anything else Brooke said.
Not until Asher came out of the changing room, bag in hand, ready to leave.
He paused as he passed me, turning his head. Those dark eyes locked onto mine, and his voice was back to that sandpaper roughness.
“Seen enough?”
I snapped back to reality, my cheeks instantly flushing.
Brooke quickly pulled me behind her, shouting at Asher’s retreating back, “Asher! Be polite!”
Asher didn’t look back, just waved a hand dismissively and walked out of the gym.
“Don’t mind him,” Brooke patted my back. “He’s totally nuts.”
I watched the direction he disappeared in, that absurd thought in my mind refusing to be suppressed.
That night, I lay in bed, headphones on, and opened Whisperwind’s profile.
Today’s live stream topic was “Tell us the most incredible thing that’s happened to you.”
Driven by an impulse, I posted a comment: “I think I’ve discovered a huge secret, about someone I thought I knew well.”
Almost instantly, Whisperwind’s voice came through my headphones, accompanied by his familiar gentle chuckle.
“Oh? Our friend ‘Night Wind Rushes In,’ what secret have you uncovered? Care to share?”
My heart skipped a beat.
‘Night Wind Rushes In’ was my ID on the app.
When he read out my ID, his voice lifted slightly at the end, a playful intimacy in his tone.
My fingers trembled as I typed a reply: “I found that someone whose voice is like an angel’s might be a devil in real life.”
The comment section instantly exploded.
“OMG! Spill the tea, sis!”
“What’s happening? Is the streamer being exposed?”
“Chloe, do you know something?”
Whisperwind chuckled softly, his voice caressing my eardrums through the current.
“It seems our friend here had quite a shock today. But people are multi-faceted, aren’t they? Perhaps what you’ve seen is just one part of him.”
His words were perfectly crafted, giving nothing away.
It was as if he was defending “himself,” yet also comforting a regular fan.
I turned off my phone, spending a sleepless night.
The next day, Brooke invited me to go shopping, saying she wanted to make it up to me.
“My cousin was such a jerk yesterday, I have to compensate you.” She pulled me into a luxury boutique.
My mind was elsewhere, filled with Asher and Whisperwind.
Brooke, however, was in high spirits, holding up a bag to me. “Chloe, this suits you. My treat.”
I quickly refused. “No, it’s too expensive.”
“Don’t be silly with me!” Brooke handed her card to the sales assistant. “What are friends for?”
Just then, her phone rang.
Brooke answered, her tone instantly switching to a mix of exasperation and affection. “Hello? What now, Your Majesty?”
Whatever the person on the other end said, Brooke’s brows furrowed.
“Out of money? Didn’t you just yesterday…”
“Alright, alright, I get it. I’ll transfer it to you in a bit. You’re a grown man, you should know how to manage your money.”
She hung up, complaining to me, “My cousin, Asher, blew all his money again. All he does is beg for cash, I’m practically his ATM.”
My heart stirred. I asked, pretending casual interest, “Is he really that hard up for money? I thought being a sparring partner paid well.”
Brooke pouted. “What’s that little bit of money going to do? He’s always buying gear, treating people to dinner, he’s used to spending lavishly. If my parents weren’t holding me back, I’d have cut off his card ages ago.”
As she spoke, she showed me a screenshot of the transfer.
I saw that the recipient’s profile picture was gray, and the nickname was a simple “H.”
My grip tightened on my phone.
In Whisperwind’s fan group, the administrator’s username was “H.”
Whisperwind had said it was the abbreviation of his name.
The clues slowly connected, and my heart sank with each realization.
If Asher was Whisperwind, then why was he doing this?
One person playing a gentle male god online, comforting countless girls; the other, an aggressive, moody man in reality, living off his cousin.
What was his motive? Money? Whisperwind’s live stream donations and paid content certainly brought in a considerable income.
But why would he pretend to be broke in front of Brooke?
I decided to test him one more time.
That weekend, Whisperwind’s offline fan meet-and-greet took place as scheduled.
The venue was a small concert hall, with strict security, requiring ID and phone number verification for entry.
Brooke had a last-minute commitment and couldn’t accompany me.
I walked into the hall, which was already filled with people, mostly young women, their faces alight with anticipation and excitement.
The stage was dimly lit, with only a high stool and a standing microphone placed in the center.
Whisperwind maintained his no-face policy even offline.
After the host warmed up the crowd, the hall lights dimmed, and a single spotlight shone on the stage center.
That familiar, gentle voice, amplified through the speakers, reached everyone’s ears clearly.
“Hello, everyone. I am Whisperwind. Thank you for coming tonight, for me.”
A wave of excited screams erupted from the audience.
I sat in a corner, my heart pounding.
He began interacting with fans, answering pre-collected questions.
One fan asked, “Whisperwind, what are you like in real life? Are you just as gentle?”
Whisperwind chuckled, a hint of mystery in his tone.
“Perhaps. But I hope you like my voice more than you like me, the person.”
“Everyone wears a mask, don’t they?”
At that moment, I took out my phone and sent Brooke a SnapChat message.
“Brooke, my stomach feels a bit off, I’m in the restroom. Can you ask your cousin to pick me up? My phone’s almost out of battery.”
Brooke replied quickly: “What’s going on with you? Fine, I’ll tell him to go. Send him the address.”
I sent her the concert hall address.
Then, I looked up, my gaze fixed intently on the blurry figure on stage.
Next up, was the moment of truth.
About twenty minutes later, my phone vibrated.
It was a text from an unknown number.
“Where?”
Two words, concise, cold, and dripping with impatience.
It was Asher.
I replied: “Backstage entrance.”
Then, I stood up and quietly slipped out through a side door, making my way to the back of the concert hall.
Two security guards stood at the backstage entrance. I hid in the shadows nearby.
Not long after, a tall figure appeared under the streetlight.
Black hoodie, jeans, baseball cap pulled low—it was Asher.
He walked up to the backstage entrance and was stopped by the guards.
“Sir, you can’t enter here.”
Asher looked up, revealing an annoyed expression. “I’m looking for someone.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, a woman named Chloe Sterling.”
Just then, a commotion erupted from the stage direction; it seemed to be intermission.
A staff member rushed out of the backstage door. The door wasn’t closed properly, leaving a gap.
From my angle, I could just see a corner of the interior.
And I could hear the voice coming from the stage through the microphone.
It was Whisperwind, talking to staff, arranging the content for the second half.
That voice, so gentle it could melt your worries away, and the impatient, gravelly voice at the door, existed in the same space simultaneously.
My mind buzzed.
It wasn’t him?
Had I made a mistake?
Asher was still arguing with the security guards, looking increasingly frustrated.
He pulled out his phone, seemingly preparing to call me.
Just then, a man in a work uniform emerged from backstage. He saw Asher, paused, then exclaimed happily, “Asher? What are you doing here!”
Asher seemed surprised to see him too. “Jayden? What are you doing here?”
“I’m working part-time here,” the man named Jayden pointed inside. “There’s an event today, and they’re short-staffed.”
He enthusiastically pulled Asher. “Since you’re here, come on in and sit down, I’ll get you a good seat.”
Asher frowned. “No thanks, I’m just here to pick someone up.”
“Who are you picking up? I can call them for you.”
“Chloe Sterling.”
Jayden slapped his thigh. “Oh, I know her! Brooke’s friend, right? She knows our boss, she’s in the VIP lounge.”
With that, he pulled Asher inside without another word.
“Follow me.”
The security guards, seeing it was a staff member, didn’t stop them.
I watched them disappear behind the door, completely frozen.
The boss?
Whisperwind was the boss here?
So, Jayden knew Asher, and he knew me.
Everything was messed up.
My clever little test… had turned into a total bust.
I took a deep breath, pulled out my phone, and prepared to call Brooke, to tell her not to send Asher to pick me up.
Just then, my phone vibrated again.
Still that unknown number.
“Are you playing games with me?”
The cold accusation, the anger palpable even through the screen.
I was stunned.
Why would Asher say that?
Hadn’t Jayden pulled him inside?
I was about to reply when a new text came in.
“VIP lounge. You better have an explanation for me.”
My heart sank sharply.
He knew.
He knew I was testing him.
I gripped my phone, hesitating whether to go in.
Going in meant a potentially humiliating confrontation.
Not going in meant the mystery in my heart would forever remain unsolved.
As an internal battle raged inside me, the backstage door suddenly opened.
Brooke stood at the entrance, her face pale. Seeing me, she forced a smile.
“Chloe, there you are, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
I looked at her. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried about you,” she walked over and naturally linked her arm through mine. “Come on, the meet-and-greet is almost over, I’ll take you home.”
I saw the evasiveness in her eyes, and the suspicion I had tried to suppress flared up wildly again.
She definitely knew something.
On the drive home, Brooke kept making small talk.
“How was the meet-and-greet today? Isn’t Whisperwind absolutely charming?”
“Did you see him in person? Is he super handsome?”
I leaned against the car window, watching the rapidly passing night scenery outside, and simply hummed in response.
Brooke seemed a little awkward and fell silent.
The temperature in the car plummeted, freezing the air between us.
As we neared my apartment building, I suddenly spoke. “Brooke, are you very close with Whisperwind?”
Brooke’s hand on the steering wheel tightened abruptly, making the car swerve slightly.
She quickly regained control, forcing a dry laugh. “Why… why would you ask that? I just heard you talk about him so much, I got a little curious.”
“Really?” I turned my head, looking straight at her. “That staff member, Jayden, just said that I know your boss.”
“When did I ever get to know your boss?”
Her face went stark white in a flash.
Her eyes darted around, her lips moved a few times, but not a single word came out.
“The boss he mentioned, that’s Whisperwind, right?” I pressed her further, step by step.
“And you, you don’t just know him, you know him well. Well enough to freely go backstage, well enough for your cousin to be directly ushered into his VIP lounge.”
“Brooke, what exactly are you hiding from me?”
Brooke pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned off the engine.
The car interior was plunged into silence, broken only by our increasingly ragged breathing.
After a long moment, she spoke, her voice hoarse.
“Chloe, I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mean to lie to you.”
“Asher… he really is Whisperwind.”
Even though I had prepared myself, hearing her admit it made my heart ache to the point of suffocation.
So, it wasn’t a misunderstanding.
My intuition had been right all along.
Then who was that gentle voice backstage?
“It was a voice changer,” Brooke said softly, as if seeing through my confusion. “And his team, they help him handle some of the live interactions.”
“So, he just needs to sit backstage, in front of a computer, and use a processed voice to pull off a perfect meet-and-greet.”
A bitter laugh escaped me, tears pricking at my eyes.
What a grand, elaborate scam.
And I, like a total idiot, had been utterly swept off my feet by him.
“Why?” I looked at Brooke, asking each word slowly. “Why would you do this?”
“It… it was for money.” Brooke couldn’t meet my gaze. “Asher needed money. Being a streamer is fast money, but his own voice… it wasn’t suitable.”
“So you came up with this plan? To have him play a fictional persona, to swindle fans out of their donations and their emotions?”
“I didn’t!” Brooke retorted, agitated. “I just wanted to help him! I never thought you’d fall so deeply!”
“Really?” I scoffed. “You never thought? Then why did you introduce him to me? Why did you play matchmaker between us? Was it fun, watching me get played like a fool by you?”
Brooke was speechless, her eyes instantly welling up with tears.
“Chloe, I truly never meant to hurt you. I just… I was just jealous of you.”
She finally confessed.
“I was jealous you have everything. A privileged family background, loving parents, never worrying about money. And me? I have to fight for everything, claw for everything. And I’m stuck with a dead weight like Asher!”
“When I saw how infatuated you were with Whisperwind, I admit, there was a tiny part of me that felt unbalanced. I wanted to see what your reaction would be if you found out your idol, your beloved male god, was actually my useless cousin.”
“I just wanted to play a joke on you, I never thought it would turn out like this!”
So that was it.
The best friend I had poured my heart out to had been calculating from the start.
The comfort I found in the dead of night was all her carefully designed poison.
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