CH34

Just as the water recedes from the shore before a tsunami, major events often have precursors. 

The first to sense the impure atmosphere flowing through Hollywood were the journalists. 

"Charlotte Underhill not showing up at a party? Isn't that strange?" 

"Well, there's a rumor she didn't even get invited." 

"Charlotte on a blacklist? Did they finally lose patience with the Underhill family's wild behavior? Sounds like it could be interesting to dig into." 

When it wasn't the right atmosphere for parties due to the financial crisis, it was Charlotte who would host charity events. 

There were even rumors that it was harder for Charlotte to stop partying than for a drug addict to quit drugs, yet she had been conspicuously absent from recent parties. 

"She must have found someone to marry." 

"Her business tanked." 

"She's on the brink of being disowned by her family." 

When rumors were rampant, another rumor spread. 

"Editor, there's been some weird rumors about Herman Goldschmidt." 

"The one about him being filthy? Do you think that's a big rumor? Do you think there's a journalist in Hollywood who doesn't know that?" 

"Yes, and I know that many have been burned for touching that story lightly. But I heard a lawsuit might be coming soon." 

The editor clicked his tongue in disapproval. 

It was obvious he had caused trouble again, unable to change his ways. 

"Forget it. It's not the first time, and eventually, it will be hushed up as if nothing happened." 

The journalist had come just in case, but as he was about to leave, the editor's office door burst open. 

"Editor! Something big has happened! Char, Charlotte has…" 

"Oh, what about Charlotte?" 

There had been no news on her lately, and the editor had been curious. 

Despite pressing his reporters, he had gotten no leads. 

"Sh-she exposed Herman Goldschmidt's sexual crimes." 

The editor dropped his pen, doubting his ears. 

What did someone do? 

Herman, that crazy old man, touched Charlotte? 

No, that couldn't be. 

The Underhills are among the real elite in America. 

It's not just poking a beehive; Herman isn't so lacking in judgment. 

"Is it true Charlotte exposed it? She didn't get harassed by him, did she?" 

"No, she exposed on behalf of 48 models and actors." 

It wasn't just about Charlotte being safe; it was a massive issue involving dozens of people. 

If the exposé continued, the number could only increase, indicating it wasn't a matter that would just fade away. 

"Move, now! Hurry and get something from Charlotte!" 

A huge bomb had dropped on Hollywood. 

*** 

Hollywood mogul producer, Herman Goldschmidt. 

His ugly shadow. 

The article published in the prestigious weekly magazine Timeless was a vivid exposé of the victims' stories about Herman, detailing the disgusting actions and methods of coercion. 

"Ugh, that's disgusting." 

└I'm more shocked that he's been doing this for decades than the actions themselves. 

└Herman was a big shot. There are a lot of people who tried to expose him and got buried. 

└Timeless also faced pressure and failed before, you know. "She's found 48 people so far, so the number will likely increase, right?" 

└At least a hundred, don't you think? Considering the people who will stay silent, even more. 

└It's unbelievable. Everyone in Hollywood kept quiet until Charlotte stepped up. 

└They were scared of being targeted, so they turned a blind eye. Obvious. "But is this the Charlotte I knew? She doesn't seem like the type to do this." 

└Surprisingly, Charlotte is from a prestigious family and attended a Catholic mission school. 

└What on earth do they teach there for Charlotte to emerge like this? Pole dancing to gospel music? 

└Lord, take one more soul to heaven today. In just a few hours, public opinion was ablaze, and Charlotte immediately held a press conference. 

Dressed in a plain black suit, a stark contrast to her usual glamorous outfits, she appeared incredibly intellectual, hard to associate with her usual image. 

As the shutter sounds ceased, the press conference began with predetermined questions to revisit the case. 

"Is everything that was exposed true?" 

"There's no falsehood in what I've shared, as it's directly from the victims." 

"Herman Goldschmidt has threatened to sue Timeless and the Underhills, claiming the exposé is false." 

"If we were afraid of a criminal's threats, we wouldn't have stepped forward. Let him sue. We plan to sue as well." 

The statement predicted a fierce legal battle, heating up the atmosphere in the room.

It was a big match between Hollywood's mogul, the Underhill family, and Charlotte Underhill, backed by public opinion.

The press conference, which lasted about an hour, was nearing its end, and a journalist who had been allocated the last question raised their hand. 

"Considering that a legal battle has been predicted, deciding to make such an exposé must not have been easy. What prompted you to do it?" 

All the journalists' eyes shone. 

Motive. 

The reason why she, an outsider to Hollywood's turmoil, was prepared to go to court. 

This had not yet been revealed and was the crux of the conference. 

"What prompted me? Of course, there is a reason. I have a dear little friend." 

Although unexpected, the journalists felt her genuine affection for the child when they saw her tender smile. 

After drawing attention with a pause, Charlotte continued. 

"One day, this friend came to me and said that someone committing terrible acts was freely roaming around Hollywood. They asked why no one was catching the criminal. I was ashamed." 

Dismissing it as a naive talk from a child unfamiliar with the world would only highlight her own filth. 

"So, I checked if the rumors were true, and here we are now." 

"Could we know who this child is?" 

This was the question she had been waiting for all day. 

Charlotte, with a bright smile, delivered her prepared answer. 

"Ian Pryce. My dear friend." 

She smiled inwardly. 

She was curious about how her friend would react to this surprise. 

*** 

Ian responded as hoped. 

"Let's stop being friends." 

-Oh? You won't call me Lotti anymore? That's sad. Did you not like the gift? There's even a montage with you as an angel baby. 

He grimaced immediately. 

"Don't talk about that crazy picture. That's why I hate it." 

The world is wide and full of crazies. 

Seeing the montage of an angel baby delivering a dropkick to Herman solidified this belief.

-Look, it's Ian, the angel baby delivering a dropkick to Herman! 

└Oh, WWE! We've got a new nickname that suits our friend! Killer Angel, how's that? 

└Love it. Let's get him registered right away! 🙂 Official WWE account 

└Yes! Go for it! Even get a stamp made! -The picture seemed a bit boring, so I made it into a GIF with some rotation. 

└Aaah, Herman is getting split in half! 

└Right, our Rolling Dropkick Angel should be able to do at least this much! It seemed like the rolling dropkick would stick with him for life. 

As he shuddered at the thought of the horrendous picture, Charlotte's cheerful laughter was heard. 

-Why? It was cute. And you like harmless pleasure. I tried to tailor it as much to your taste as possible. 

"That's true, but don't say things that could be misunderstood." 

What goes around comes around. 

It was clear he had harbored resentment for having the exposé dumped on her. 

Somehow, she had managed to involve him. 

-Anyway, it's not bad. You get famous and it's good for your image.

"You're not wrong." 

'You're innocent?' 

Ben scoffed and didn't believe it. 

But thanks to cleverly packaging the child's innocence as the reason for the exposé, she managed to avoid entanglement in sensitive issues and simply reap the benefits. 

Charlotte had carefully crafted the story to minimize harm to him, sharing the spotlight as a gift. 

"Thanks for thinking of me, Lotti. Are we good?"

-Yeah, we're good. I'll call you later, honey. 

Honey, really. 

Ian chuckled softly as he looked at the ended call. 

'Interesting. How things have changed.' 

Her future, once a party-goer, now treated as a social activist, had clearly changed. 

The SNS tag spreading quickly after this incident was #TellMe, implying that like Charlotte, they would not ignore those who spoke up.

Ian put his phone in his pocket. 

It had been amusing, but that was all. 

He had no intention of getting involved in the matter further. 

"Whether new revelations come out or social movements occur, it doesn't matter to me." 

Spending time on scripts rather than throwing himself into issues. 

That was always his way of life. 

As Ian was about to return to the set, someone called him. 

"Ian, are you done talking?" 

"Daniel?" 

It was unexpected that it was Daniel. 

He hesitated, apparently feeling awkward too. 

"What's up?" 

"Do you know why a middle-aged man would suddenly start crying? No, let me just tell the truth. Last night, my dad was sobbing. It was the first time I've seen him like that." 

"Really?" 

The thought that his actions could hinder his child's future. 

From the moment Daniel expressed his desire to become an actor, it must have been a source of internal decay. 

Despite harsh teachings and a strong will, Daniel persevered, which likely only added to the despair. 

It's good that he's finally able to put down that burden. 

"Maybe it's a midlife crisis? Men in that age group tend to cry more. But why are you telling me this?" 

"Because when I asked why, he said it was thanks to you. And he asked me to give you this letter." 

Ian instinctively grabbed the tightly sealed letter. 

A bright white flash engulfed the world. 

"I'm sorry, it's my fault." 

A woman was kneeling, bursting into tears. 

Her face, distorted with anger and sorrow, was streaked with hot tears. 

"It's all my fault, truly." 

She had regretted it hundreds, thousands of times. 

What if she had just closed her eyes like everyone else? 

Why did she brazenly criticize that man for a little fame? 

A crumpled newspaper rolled on the floor. 

An article about Herman Goldschmidt being sentenced to decades in prison for sexual crimes. 

It was a long-awaited article, but now it was meaningless. 

The dusty 4th-floor rehearsal room no longer held her precious son. 

Not only had she lost her son, but she had also made a wounded woman feel guilty. 

The man felt his heart tearing apart over his foolish past actions. 

After the gaunt woman left, he opened the windows of the rehearsal room wide. 

A refreshing breeze came in. 

"I'm truly sorry." 

Was it a message to his departed son, to his wife who might lose not only her son but also her husband, or to another woman who would now bear guilt? 

Clutching the window frame, the man's world blurred into bright light. Ian came to his senses and gasped for breath. 

"Ian? What happened all of a sudden?" 

He let go of the letter and waved his hand. 

"It's nothing. I don't think I need to keep this letter…" 

"But he asked you to take it?" 

"Just convey my message, and he'll understand. And maybe you could ask your father if it's okay to read the letter. Aren't you curious?" 

Daniel nodded slightly. 

Given that his always stern father had handed him a letter in tears after meeting the boy just once, it was natural to be curious. 

"So, go and ask him. You understand, right?" 

"Yes!" 

Watching Daniel's retreating figure carefully with the letter, Ian wondered whether Eastern would tell his son everything honestly or keep it hidden. 

But one thing was certain: the future he had seen would be better than what he had anticipated. 

Ian walked to the set feeling refreshed. 

*** 

There are days when one feels exceptionally good physically. 

Waking up feeling light and vibrant, as if anything undertaken that day would go well. 

Thump! 

"Aah!" 

Screaming, a big Caucasian boy playing football tumbled and rolled. 

"…Huh?" 

It was then he realized. 

It wasn't just a feeling.

TL/n - 

#TellMe = #MeToo movement