CH41

Ending a long-standing rivalry by helping produce a movie. Journalists would have marveled and scribbled their pens in admiration.

-A beautiful reconciliation between two masters.

If someone who doesn't know the inside story saw it, they might think so.

The intention is good. No, maybe even the outcome could be good. If only one person sacrifices.

"…Thanks for the offer. But you don't need to go through trouble to help."

"Don't feel burdened. The older I get, the more I realize how hard it is to admit one's mistakes. Think of it as an apology for all the bad-mouthing I've done about you over the years."

There's no right answer. Refusing after such a statement would mean asking for a confrontation.

Ian internally grimaced at the thought when Landon excused himself to visit the restroom.

Left alone, Gavin opened up as if he had been waiting.

"What should we do?"

"What can we do? You know as well as the director that we have no other choice. We should just thank and accept. You know refusing would look more suspicious, right?"

"I know. Everyone will find it strange."

Landon would make a big deal out of being refused a gesture of pure goodwill, not even asking for money.

Before the journalists, investors, and distributors would be calling, doubting his sanity and trying hard to persuade him.

"Just accept it. What else can we do?"

"Sigh… Yes, it's my fault for lying from the start. And that man, he must have his work to do, how much could he possibly help?"

Ian silently nodded, and upon Landon's return, he asked for a decision.

"So, have you decided?"

"If you're offering help, there's no reason to refuse. Please, do help."

"Hahaha, I will do my best to help. Don't worry!"

Listening to Landon's hearty laughter, Ian swallowed hard.

He had hidden the fact that Landon had no plans for the next project, wondering if it was the right thing to do.

'…You should have done well from the start.'

Nietzsche said, "What does not kill me makes me stronger."

You won't die, so you'll return stronger.

***

A text message arrived.

-Please save me. I feel like I'm going to die. That guy is coming by every day.

-Even now, he's knocking on the door outside. Shouldn't the director be preparing his work? I don't understand why he's nosing around other people's projects.

…Come to think of it, didn't Nietzsche suffer from madness and die in his later years?

At this rate, it might be quicker to visit a psychiatrist before getting stronger.

Ignoring Gavin's distressing messages, Ian stood up.

Shooting for Beverly Hills Moms, so it can't be helped.

"We'll start filming now!"

With the staff's signal, the camera rolled, and a masked murderer faced off.

The murderer, who had killed a consultant and other parents, intended Anna, Eugene's mother, as the next target, but the protagonist Chloe had called Anna as an alibi to hide her affair, leading the murderer to a dead end.

Instead, the murderer encountered Eugene.

As he slashed the boy's arm with a knife, the murderer whispered, "You and I are the same. We're living pitiful lives."

Blood dripped down from Eugene's arm, cut by the murderer filled with a terrible sense of victimhood.

Instead of succumbing to fear, Eugene calmly assessed the situation and asked.

"'I'm the same as you?'"

"Yes, you're also broken, just like me. It's easy to tell from your actions."

Books were piled high on the table.

The perpetrator casually riffled through the excessive amount of study material, almost cruel in its extent.

"During my school days, my nickname was 'monster.' A monster who couldn't even smile properly. You're the same, aren't you? Want to know why?"

"Why is that?"

"Because while other kids were learning about emotions, we were stuck doing this. If it weren't for those damn people, we wouldn't have ended up like this."

Spewing venomous resentment, the perpetrator handed a knife to Eugene.

"Don't you want to be free like me? Just muster the courage once. Then you can be like a normal person."

Eugene's reflection was visible on the blood-stained blade.

The indifferent expression while looking at the sharp edge felt like a monster wearing human skin, as the perpetrator said.

The inhumanity capable of killing even one's family.

"I want to be normal, too."

"Right?"

A sense of desperation was felt in the emotionless tone, for it was the first time during the work that something was desired.

Like Eve who was tempted by the serpent to touch the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, strength entered the hand holding the knife.

In the precarious atmosphere where it seemed he could fall into corruption at any moment, Eugene spoke up.

"My mother told me. I was born from hell."

Eugene was born on a day marked by the collapse of families and suicides amid a national bankruptcy.

The perpetrator's eyes turned cold at these words.

"Yeah, they must have called you a devil, just like me."

"No, that's not what I mean. It means I've never been normal from the start."

Born from hell, lacking humanity. It was the only comforting word for Eugene, who couldn't be ordinary.

The boy swung the knife he was holding, and the perpetrator, lightly dodging, jumped back.

"You'll regret this decision today."

Leaving behind a curse-like remark, the perpetrator disappeared, and Eugene tossed the knife aside, checking the clock.

"There's not much time left to solve the problems. I have to keep my promise."

He had been told repetitively that breaking a promise is bad behavior.

Even if he couldn't be a good child, couldn't he avoid bad actions? Eugene, who roughly bandaged his bleeding arm, opened the book.

How much time had passed? The sound of the door opening was heard.

"Eugene, Mom's back… Aaaah! Eugene!"

Anna's scream was followed by the director's shout.

"Great! It's Ian! Flawless."

With the director's declaration, Ian took a deep breath.

The tension dissipated along with the emotional residue left by Eugene.

It was a scene that cleared the misunderstanding that Eugene might be the perpetrator since the perpetrator appeared for the first time.

Considering it was such an important scene, there were worries that if it were filmed blandly, all the effort put in until now would be in vain.

"See? There was no need to worry about Ian."

"I kept saying it. He would do well."

The staff briskly shook off their worries.

As the staff observed a few more takes, a tall man approached them.

"Is Ian still shooting?"

"Probably after this cut… Huh?"

The staff member, responding without much thought, widened their eyes upon seeing who it was. It was someone famous enough to make this place feel humble.

Noticing the stir on set, Ian waved happily.

"Ben! What brings you here?"

"I came to pick you up. What else?"

The staff doubted their ears.

Ben, infamous for his disdain for child actors, was offering to play the guardian role.

'Of course, I've heard they were close.'

Due to his long-standing notoriety, many in Hollywood were skeptical.

Seeing Ben ruffle Ian's hair roughly and their playful bickering, it seemed their friendship was real, not just a rumor.

Climbing into the car with Ben, who had caused a buzz just by showing up, Ian asked.

"So, what brings you here?"

"Just wanted to see you. I went to Korea for the Sucker Punch promotion and ended up thinking about you."

"Really? What happened?"

Ben grumbled as if he had been waiting for this question.

"They asked so much about you, I thought I was your dad. If I knew it'd be like this, I would have taken you to Korea with me."

"Why would I follow for a movie I didn't even act in?"

"You have no idea how much the producer and Oliver regretted not even casting you as an extra."

Who would have thought the boy handing out corn dogs in a memorable performance would come this far? Even Ian hadn't anticipated things turning out so well.

"Any interesting questions? It would be helpful for when I go to Korea or do interviews."

"Interesting questions?"

Honestly, there weren't many nutritious questions. The strangest they got was asking if he liked kimchi.

Reporters asking about things outside of the movie were unlikely to ask normal questions anyway.

After a moment of thought, Ben remembered something.

"Ah! It wasn't a journalist, but a broadcasting official I met during the promotion. They did a New Year's special show where they brought in a Korean shaman for fortune-telling or something like that."

"They do that? And?"

"They were doing it for fun, looking at celebrities' fortunes and lives. The shaman who looked at yours fainted on the spot."

Ian was startled, his curiosity piqued alongside a hint of anxiety, he cautiously asked.

"…Fainted? Why?"

"They didn't give me the details. Just said they didn't want to die."

Ben glanced at Ian's serious face and burst into laughter.

"Don't take it so seriously. Shamans, in this day and age? It's all just for show."

"Right. It's all a show."

Ian didn't seriously believe in Korean shamans, not officially recognized by the Vatican like exorcists.

I just thought that it might be fun to check out if he ever went to Korea.

"But where are we going now?"

"Home, I told you."

"Don't talk nonsense. I can see, you know?"

Not new to filming, Ian knew the Beverly Hills area well enough to recognize they weren't heading home.

Ben smirked and drove on.

"Home is home. It's just a house I bought as an investment."

"Why are we going there?"

"You'll see. You won't regret following. Just sit tight."

They arrived at a three-story house surrounded by high walls, giving off a modern vibe as if it were newly built.

Entering, it was clear this was no ordinary house.

"It can be uncomfortable practicing acting at home. The rooms here are all soundproofed, so you can practice all you want."

"Really?"

It was perfect. Living in a residential area always made it difficult to practice loudly, which was a constant regret.

Afraid someone might overhear, he couldn't even practice with scripts for future projects.

"Why would I lie? You can come and use it as much as you want."

"That's great for me. But why did you create a place like this?"

"Why did I create it?"

Ben hesitated with his answer, rolling his eyes, but someone else provided the revelation.

"Ian! You're here!"

"Rachel?"

"Come here! This place is amazing!"

Descending to the basement Rachel emerged from, Ian blinked in surprise.

Not only was it adorned with all sorts of musical instruments, but there was also professional recording equipment.

Following behind, Ben, with an embarrassed look, said,

"Well, it turned out like this. It's good for practicing scripts and singing, right? It's even better to get along with friends."

To think Ben would remodel an entire house just to score some points, anyone remembering the extravagant Ben would be astonished.

"I'll be on the third floor with Ayla, so contact me if you need anything, okay?"

Ben tactfully made himself scarce, leaving Ian and Rachel alone among the instruments.

Acoustic guitars, classical guitars, electrics, basses. There were several types of guitars alone, not to mention familiar instruments like violins and pianos, as well as others like djembes.

'Would be nice to upload playing videos on YouTube.'

There were so many types and numbers of instruments that a person could be hired just for their upkeep.

"Amazing, isn't it? You can use everything here. Real instruments sound so different from what you hear in programs."

"Of course. It's not for nothing that musicians exist."

Rachel, nodding in agreement, tinkered with the instruments like a child in an amusement park.

She tilted her head listening to the sounds, then suddenly lit up with a broad smile and took a deep breath.

"Actually, I have something I want to share today. I mentioned wanting to release my next song like an album."

"Did you finish it all?!"

"Mm-hm. About ten songs."

Rachel shyly nodded.

Honestly, Ian was surprised. It had taken at least five months to write one song, so he had expected this project to take years, but she had already completed it.

And they weren't just any songs.

'They must have passed Ayla's approval.'

Ian asked with full anticipation.

"So, what's the theme of this album? You said it was a concept album."

"I'm Ra-I. Filled with songs that tell people who we are."

Although interest had waned with just one song released, many were still curious about Rai. Ian, wearing an expectant expression, glanced down at his buzzing phone.

-Ian? Didn't you say you were coming after today's shoot? When are you coming?

-Landon brought a terrifying alien creature, saying it was an extraterrestrial.

Ian texted back.

-They said there's an extended night shooting today.

-A child actor doing night extensions? That's a first in my Hollywood career. You're not coming, are you?

-Yeah, seems like it.

The phone went silent, likely shocked by the message.

Believing he could make his escape, Ian took a seat.

"Shall we take a listen?"

The first album crafted by a genius.

A performance unlike any first, beautifully resonating through the basement.