At night, in a dark office on the seventh floor, two n were busy conspiring. One was the head of the Managent Team 1 of Loret Entertainnt, and the other was his subordinate—a chief he had worked with for over nine years.
"I don’t mind Jin Bae being humiliated," the older man said. "He is going nowhere with his temper and attitude. He needed to be humbled."
"He hasn’t changed much since then," the chief replied. "He acts the sa way as when he was a trainee."
"Conceited fool."
Alcohol wasn’t permitted in the building, but they drank in silence nonetheless.
"But this is different. That man also indirectly disrespected Ha-Joon Chae." He scoffed. "Humiliating two of my talents is bad enough already, but he also glares at my subordinate? Who is he to be so bold?"
"I don’t know where he ca from, but he is widely popular right now."
"Popularity is seasonal. It does not matter. There are consequences to every action, and we need to teach him that. If he is going to stay so ignorant, we had better wipe him out of the industry."
On the desk was a naplate that read: Walter Dean, Head of Managent Team 1.
"Look into this Averie Quinn Auclair and his past. Dig as deep as you can. We will make an example out of him whether we find anything or not."
With cheers, the eting concluded.
***
It was Tuesday evening.
Sunny of NeRen was watching the sunset from the roof of Sartre Entertainnt. It was her break, so she indulged herself with a cigarette.
In any other place, soone would have snapped a picture, and she would have been in deep trouble.
But not here. Not on the roof where no one wandered. This was her place of respite.
"You haven’t quit smoking yet?" a sweet voice uttered.
Sunny looked behind to find Ha-Yun strolling towards her.
"It is better than drinking an entire bottle in a sitting," she retorted.
The leader of NeRen walked beside her and leaned against the railing.
"Will you be fine? We changed the song, the choreography, and even the costus."
Sunny grinned. "I am not that old yet. And besides, we all agreed to it. It’s exciting, at least. The routine was getting kind of stale."
"Everyday routine or dance routine?"
"Both." Sunny puffed out a plu of smoke, watching it with unfocused eyes. "We sing the sa songs, do the sa dance. There is no change. Even popularity seems boring once you have tasted it. You feel it too, right?"
Ha-Yun observed her nails. Sunny wasn’t wrong. She used to love doing her nails when she was in school, but she hadn’t experinted with nail paints in many years.
"Yeah..." she whispered.
Every day, she wore the sa colors. She ate the sa things. She listened to the sa music, and she danced the sa way.
She lived a luxurious yet mundane life.
"So, this concert will be different?" Sunny asked.
"Yes. The upper managent has given their consent."
"That’s surprising."
"Not really. They don’t like new ideas, but they definitely like riding the trends. If it garners attention, they will do it."
Suddenly, Ha-Yun and Sunny’s phones rang.
Finding it odd, they had a look.
A large quantity of articles—related to their recent obsession—were flooding the feed.
’BSPH stars Peter Kang and Averie Quinn Auclair land at Incheon Airport.’
***
"I feel terrible," Averie muttered, climbing down the boarding stairs.
He hadn’t eaten much the whole day, and the empty stomach had only worsened his motion sickness. Thankfully, he could grab a bite as the plane had just landed.
"I need to go ho and sleep," Peter Kang also complained. "My head is aching."
Passengers asked them for photos and autographs as they waited for their luggage. But it was odd. Unlike when they left, people recognized them imdiately.
At one point, there were so many of them that the security had to intervene.
It worried Hyerin. It was the first ti since she beca Averie’s manager that she felt truly helpless.
The security staff escorted the group away from the crowd.
"There is a small crowd gathering outside the airport as we speak," the head of security explained. "We can provide cars and escort you out ourselves before more gather."
Apparently, so entertainnt journalist had gotten news of their return, and sohow they thought it prudent to publish such information.
Hyerin wanted to find out who it was, so she could slap the little shit across the face. Seeing her like that made Averie proud. Truly, she had learned so awful things from him.
"A crowd?" Peter Kang playfully scoffed with a smug face. "We can handle it."
"How bad could it be?" Averie added.
Their arrogant, better-than-you attitude was deeply misunderstood by the security guards as the charisma of star actors.
’Sure, there is a crowd. What about it?’ Averie thought. ’I have dealt with such things before.’
"So, you won’t mind leaving from the front exit?" asked the head of security.
He talked with so of his people, who rushed to get things prepared.
When the two actors stepped out of the airport entrance, they were greeted by a loud roar and flashes from caras. Their nas were being called from every direction. People were taking pictures while security held them back.
So were fainting, which seed a little exaggerated. And so were asking to be spit on, which was deeply concerning.
So of the gathered won were practically praying to Averie as if he were their god.
"The Quinn..." they kept muttering fanatically.
Suddenly, sothing soft hit Averie in the face. He caught it before it could fall to the ground.
His eyes narrowed. It was n’s underwear.
’This is a new low.’
The gathered crowd was indeed small compared to the worst-case scenario, but it was far more zealous than the pair had imagined.
One glance was enough to bring Averie and Peter to their senses. Like brave n, they did a one-eighty-degree turn and stepped back inside the airport.
"The AC feels nice, doesn’t it?" Peter Kang asked, a saintly smile plastered across his face.
"What is the point of coming to an airport," — Averie rubbed his hands for warmth, his bravado nowhere to be seen — "if we are going to leave without enjoying the AC to its fullest?"
The two had tacitly decided never to speak of it again.
They accepted help from the gracious head of security, who led them to the back entrance. He provided them with so security personnel and a couple of cars.
Thankfully, they were able to get out of the airport without any issues.
Riding in an SUV with tinted windows, they passed through downtown Seoul.
"What’s going on?" a stunned Hyerin asked.
Everywhere she looked, she saw the faces of the seven actors from Binsfeld’s Seven Princes of Hell.
There were posters on the walls, banners on buildings, and billboards in the squares. In shops and hair salons, the pictures of the seven were pasted.
"BSPH is everywhere these days," one of the security guards explained. "It’s widely popular. I personally watched it from the premiere, but the audience numbers have only risen since then. Everyone is talking about it."
The pedestrians and commuters discussed it every chance they had. Sinner was ranked third in the music charts. For a the song—which was mostly classical music—it was an enormous achievent.
Averie observed the giant building in the middle of the square.
It was extrely tall with glass panes covering every inch of it. In the twilight, it shimred with a bright, golden glow. The masses, returning ho, naturally glanced at it.
From Averie’s perspective, it looked as if they were praying to a higher being. And looking down at them were the sinister gazes of the seven Binsfeld brothers on a large digital billboard.
The drama series was etched on the very foundation of the city.
Only four episodes in, and it was already the most-praised show of the past seven years. It had begun a craze all over the country. Everyone and their mother watched it.
This amount of hype surrounding an English-language series in the country was a first.
"It’s crazy out there," the guard said.
He asked for autographs, and the pair obliged. Not like they had anything better to do.
Hyerin looked up the drama on the internet.
Social dia, talk shows, reality TV, entertainnt news—the faces of the seven were everywhere. Naturally, Asmodeus Binsfeld had beco a household na.
In malls, restaurants, and anywhere one could possibly travel to, the show’s influence could be felt. It had beco a cultural phenonon.
It drained the color out of Hyerin’s complexion.
’We—we really need to hire a bodyguard,’ she thought.
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