Chapter 21: Chapter 21 No Longer Anonymous — Rebellious Symphony

Things started to escalate from a post on the country's largest underground music forum.

A member calling himself an "amateur music detective" spent the entire week analyzing the semi-final video circulating online, comparing every technical detail with Z's released tracks. This person posted a long analysis, pointing out a series of undeniable similarities, along with a new detail: the badge logo embroidered on the uniform of the audio equipment operator standing behind the scenes in the video, although faint, can still be recognized as the high school badge. Royal High International Specialist.

"So Z goes to Royal High?" A series of comments began to speculate, flooding the forum overnight. Some other members, who knew students at this school, began to inquire in private chat groups, trying to find out the true identity behind the mysterious name that had been with them for many months.

Rumors quickly spread to Royal High students themselves. In the group chat of the eleventh grade, messages began to appear: "Is anyone interested in seeing if there is anyone in our school who is good at making electronic music?", "I heard that Z goes to our school, do you know anyone?"

Bảo Châu, reading those messages, quickly texted to warn Linh immediately. "Linh, the situation doesn't look good. The whole school is speculating about Z's identity, and someone mentioned our school logo appearing in the semi-final video. You and Minh need to be more careful than ever." Linh read the message, her heart pounding with anxiety. She quickly called Minh immediately.

"Did you know about this?" she asked as soon as he picked up the phone, her voice urgent.

"I just read it," Minh replied, his voice equally tense. "Someone analyzed our school logo in the video. Things are spreading a lot faster than I thought."

"What should we do now?" Linh asked, a feeling of panic rising.

"Calm down," Minh said, even though his own voice wasn't entirely steady. "Currently, they only know that I am a student at Royal High. No one has yet accurately identified me. We need to stay calm and not reveal any other signs."

***

But things escalated faster than they feared. A few days later, an anonymous account on social networks posted a message that was said to be excerpted from an old conversation between members of the Neon Tide group, which mentioned the name "Minh" as a former member who left the group to "attend a specialized school, hiding his profession for fear of his family finding out".

No one knew exactly who posted that message, but it was enough for "cyber detectives" to piece together clues, gradually narrowing the scope of suspicion to a few specific names in the eleventh grade of Royal High.

On Friday afternoon, an observant student in class 11A2 found an old video, from two years ago, recording a small performance by Neon Tide at a street event, in which the face of a young member playing the keyboard could be clearly seen — that face, even though it was thinner and had different hair, still had features that were unmistakably familiar with Trần Nhật Minh.

That video was shared in a small chat group first, then spread to a larger group, and finally, reached professor Trần Quang Vũ, through a colleague in the hospital whose child attended the same school as Minh.

"Hey Mr. Vũ," the colleague said during the break, his voice seemed joking but accidentally touched on a shocking truth. "Your son goes to Royal High, right? My daughter said recently the whole school is buzzing because there is a rumor that a student in the eleventh grade is some famous DJ named Z. I heard there are old videos from when he was still playing street music. Do you know about this?"

Professor Vũ paused, a vague feeling of insecurity rose in his heart. "Who is Z?"

"An electronic music producer quite popular among young people," the colleague explained, not knowing he had just dropped a bomb in the respected professor's heart. "My daughter loves his music. I heard he makes quite a bit of money from producing music."

That night, Professor Vũ came home with an unusually pensive expression, not saying anything to Minh, but his eyes followed his son longer than usual during dinner, as if trying to find an answer to the questions that had just arisen.

***

When Linh and Minh learned about the old video being exposed and spreading, they both realized the situation was beyond control and they could handle it silently like before.

“We need to prepare ourselves,” Minh said, his voice heavy, when they met that night in storage room 4. “Sooner or later, maybe my father will learn the truth.”

"What are you going to do?" Linh asked, her voice filled with worry.

"I don't know," Minh admitted, rarely revealing such obvious helplessness. "I've been mentally preparing for this day for a long time, but I didn't expect it to come at the most sensitive time, right before your final round."

Linh grabbed his hand, trying to convey a little strength even though she herself was equally panicked. "No matter what happens, we will face it together. I promise." Minh nodded, but in his eyes, a fear deeper than what he had ever experienced with Kiên was gradually becoming clear — fear of the upcoming confrontation with the very father whose disappointment he had spent his entire life avoiding, and now, the truth he had tried to hide for so many years was about to be exposed in the worst way he could imagine.

***

On Monday morning, the atmosphere in class 11A1 was as tense as a string. As soon as Linh entered the classroom, she noticed many curious eyes following her, mixed with glances toward the back of the classroom, where Minh still sat unusually quiet, no longer sleeping with his head down like before.

"Hey, do you know who Z is?" A classmate named Hai, sitting at a nearby table, blurted out a question to Linh, his voice full of curiosity. "I heard that person is the one who arranged the music for your entry. You must know clearly, right?"

Linh stiffened for a moment, trying to keep a calm expression. "I just collaborated with a friend who is good at electronic music, I don't know anything about Z."

"Really?" Hai seemed a bit disappointed, but did not ask further questions, instead turning to discuss with other groups of friends about the spreading theories.

At recess, Bảo Châu pulled Linh into the hallway, his voice whispering with worry. "The situation is getting more and more tense, Linh. I just heard the kids in the next class mentioning the name 'Nhật Minh', although no one has dared to confirm for sure. It's probably only a matter of time before everyone pieces together enough clues."

"I know," Linh said, her voice heavy with worry. "Minh is also mentally prepared. But what I'm most worried about is his father. If he finds out this way, from outsiders' rumors instead of hearing his own son explain, things will be much worse." Bảo Châu nodded and held his best friend's hand in encouragement. "Perhaps, it's time for two people to proactively face it, instead of letting everything be exposed in an uncontrollable way. Sometimes, proactively telling the truth, even if it's painful, is better than letting it be exposed by someone else first."

Linh remained silent, pondering her friend's advice. She knew Châu was right, but the prospect of facing Professor Trần Quang Vũ, the strict and authoritative man she had witnessed scolding her son mercilessly, made her shiver in fear.

After school in the afternoon, when Linh recounted the conversation with Bảo Châu to Minh, he pondered for a long time before responding. "Maybe Châu is right. But I need a little more time to prepare mentally, to find the right time and the most appropriate way to say it. My father is someone who values family reputation more than anything. If I don't say it the right way, the consequences could be much worse."

"I understand," Linh nodded, although her heart still felt uneasy. "But don't wait too long, Minh. Rumors are spreading faster than we can control them." Minh nodded, his eyes thoughtfully looking out the small window of the warehouse, where the last sunset of the day was gradually fading, like a reminder that the time for him to control his own story was running out day by day.

He pulled out his phone, reopened the unfinished contract document from WaveSound Records, and reread the six-month disclosure clause. Perhaps, he thought, fate was forcing him to face the truth sooner than he or anyone else could have prepared for, whether he wanted it or not.