The irony wasn't lost on Phei...
...After his name had brewed into the ears of nearly half the world — after the basketball game that dismantled the Prince of Earth and his entourage on live television, after the footage circulated and mutated and bred a second generation of clips and edits that multiplied across the internet with the reproductive enthusiasm of something that refused to die — Phei had become popular.
Genuinely, irritatingly, inescapably popular; his face had made it worse.
Phei's own beauty had taken the fame and sharpened it into something more personal, more invasive and hungry, because the world could forgive a man for being powerful but it could not forgive him for being powerful and looking like that while doing it.
Phei had stalkers of his own.
Mostly young women; his fans.
They appeared in clusters at malls when he went shopping or anywhere close to where he was, materialized near entrance of Sovereign Tower.
