Dressed inconspicuously, a handso man quietly slipped through the bustling crowds of Berlin.
A pair of oversized sunglasses hid most of his face and allowed little light to be shed on his amber pupils.
Yet they shone through the tinted glasses, like lighthouse beacons amidst storms. They were like a pair of suns frozen in a sea of resin; their brilliance could not be overstated.
Although the man was unknown to them, his stride graceful, his gait far from familiar, he attracted no fewer than every gaze on the street.
As if this attention couldn’t sway him even in his dreams, he moved forward. In that very mont, he looked so comfortable, one would believe he hadn’t noticed his surroundings.
He was, in that mont, the king of the pavent.
No one thought that he was ordinary. No simple office worker could possess such presence.
No, this was sothing different.
This was the charisma of one who was born for it. Now, what that ’it’ could be was anybody’s guess.
His dress shoes ca to a sudden halt near a pleasant tourist street.
It was lunchti, but sohow, he managed to secure a table at a nice terrace café.
While sipping coffee, he enjoyed the dreary and cold weather. The sun, for whatever reason, was not in the sky.
Even the simple action of looking up at the sky caught the eye of the fine ladies and gents nearby. But that was his life, and he was used to it.
"The Serenes award nominees are chosen only after all the films have been shown," a man sitting at a table for six announced to his friends.
His voice was enthusiastic. And while two of his friends seed familiar with this new information, the rest of the crew didn’t seem so.
"The guest judges receive a vote for each of the award categories. But unlike them, the board—which is chosen every three iterations of the festival—receives two votes for every category."
It was all information familiar to Averie, but still he listened—simply because of the speaker’s infectiousness.
"That’s why there is always tension between the judges and the board."
Before long, a voice called out to him.
"Hey, bestie!"
His companions had arrived.
"Bestie?" Averie twisted his face at Hyerin, who looked like a golden retriever reunited with its owner. "Seriously, Rin?"
She took a seat at the table, handed him a doner kebab, and lowered her voice. "I can’t go yelling your na in public when everyone is already leering at you."
"Yeah, our friend here’s also leering at right now," he murmured, looking at Min-Ha.
She cracked a proud smile. "I’ve earned that privilege."
For the next five minutes, the two kept flirting with each other—simply for the love of the ga. Making Hyerin uncomfortable brought them imnse joy.
Once they were done, the two girls began singing his praises and asking him questions as if they weren’t present when the movie was fild.
But unlike usual, Averie didn’t answer them with hubris. He kept his remarks to a minimum.
He didn’t seem sad, but he wasn’t very elated, either.
"We should leave," Min-Ha comnted, scanning their surroundings. "People are starting to notice."
"There’s no chance," Averie replied. "The film just ended, and I am disguised."
"No, they are really starting to notice," Hyerin asserted.
Averie took a look around.
The girls were right. So guys were secretly filming him, and so girls were chatting among themselves while glancing at him fervently.
As if it were predetermined, the diabolical actor got up, gestured for the girls to settle his bill, and left the vicinity.
Min-Ha clicked her tongue. "Does he expect you to pay again?"
"Again? Oh, no." Hyerin rummaged through her handbag and took out a wallet. "He doesn’t carry around his stuff. I do."
Min-Ha stared at her colleague, utter disbelief in her eyes.
"He doesn’t carry around cash?"
"No."
"Debit cards?"
"Definitely not."
"Personal ID?"
"His face is his ID, he says."
Silence ensued once again.
For a mont, Min-Ha wondered if she wasn’t the fool of the group, considering how little this arrangent affected Hyerin.
But then, she deduced that her colleague was simply suppressing her rationality in a brave effort to save her last dying nerve cell.
Such were the disadvantages of working alongside Averie.
***
With what remained of the doner entirely down his throat, Averie walked in through the rotating door of the hotel lobby.
Right away, the chill of the air conditioner greeted him. As well as the stares of so of the guests.
’Even here?’
It was difficult to believe that within only a few hours, the entire city had gone from not recognizing him at all to people doubting their eyes.
’Do they have nothing better to do?’
Averie walked up to the reception, removed his glasses, and asked for his room access card.
’Hurry up, man, I need to pee.’
Suddenly, sothing very profound dawned on him.
’That’s why the girls arrived later, didn’t they? Their priorities are straight, those sensible creatures.’
The receptionist was taking a long ti.
’Are you printing a new one or what?’
He wanted to say a lot, throw a tantrum, and whinge. But with so much attention surrounding him, as well as Hyerin’s stern advice against inviting controversies, he held it in.
He held the real him in.
’Hold the doors of the dam. Hold it tight like a man on the verge of pissing himself— No! No! Sothing else. Yeah, imagine yourself as a spectator, witnessing the beauty of Niagara Falls— No! That’s a big no!’
"Apologies for the wait, Mr. Auclair," said the hotel receptionist, handing the man his room access card.
Averie gave him a nod with a smile that did not betray his plight. Like a true man, he held in his sorrows, thinking only of magical ponies and the waterfall they gather under.
With a renewed sense of hope, Averie took a step forward, only to be stopped by a squeak.
"Excuse ..."
It was the voice of a child, and it was coming from behind him.
Averie turned around, dread spreading through his entire being as he noticed an eleven-or-so-year-old girl.
’From the top of Niagara Falls, gotta pee! Gotta pee!’
The made-up song in his head stopped as the girl’s eyes sparkled. They had confird that he was indeed him.
"I saw your movie," she said.
’How, kid? How? Who let you in? It was clearly not made for soone your age, and— Ah, Niagara Falls! My dearest, the most beautiful of falls!’
"Can I have an autograph?"
’Nope!’
Averie smiled. "Of course."
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