As he stared at the comments section on his own Facebook, Alex felt his state of mind crack apart.
What kind of monsters were his fans, exactly?
Judging by the tone of the messages, it was as if any actress who appeared in one of his productions was automatically assumed to have had some kind of intimate relationship with him. Some of them went even further, dumping out long lists of names - actresses from the second and third tiers, like they were handing him an entire catalog to choose from at will. The logic behind it was even more absurd: since they themselves had no chance, they wanted their idol to live out the fantasy on their behalf. In their minds, that somehow still counted as a personal victory.
It was practically a modern version of winning through sheer imagination.
Still, most of his fans, thankfully, understood him well enough to separate one thing from another. In private life, maybe he really wasn't the most disciplined man in the world, but when it came to work, no one could point a finger at him. It didn't matter whether Rebeca Verne truly carried a reputation for being bad luck at the box office or not. If she wasn't the best fit for the role, then she wouldn't be chosen. And that wouldn't change even if she offered herself up on a silver platter.
At that thought, Alex let out a tired sigh. The internet always found a way to turn everything into something grotesquely exaggerated.
When he returned to the company, the employees greeted him one after another, a near-instinctive line of respect and caution. Among the veterans, more than one of them noticed that Nadia seemed different that day. There was something new in her expression, a quiet but visible confidence, as though her eyes had gained a steadier light.
And how could they not?
Ever since she had crossed that line with Alex, Nadia had begun nurturing a sweet and dangerous illusion: the feeling that she was getting closer and closer to becoming the lady of the house. It was the kind of fantasy only a twenty-year-old girl could still cling to with that much conviction. Sleeping with a man like Alex once and imagining that alone was enough to change her place in the world... only someone very young could believe in a story like that.
Once seated in his office, Alex took the new batch of casting sheets from her hands, freshly sent over from the United States. Almost all of them were from actresses hoping to compete for the role of Misa. Among the names were more than a few first-tier stars, which alone spoke volumes about how much weight the project had gained.
This time, though, the offers came differently.
Perhaps because they had learned from the recent examples of Western actresses who had worked with Alex and later earned it all back - and more - in the Asian market, nearly all of them had aggressively slashed their asking prices. Some were willing to accept a third of their usual rate. Others, even less. The reasoning was simple and ruthlessly practical: if one of Alex's films turned them into an international sensation, they would make up for everything later through endorsements, variety shows, appearances, and commercial deals.
In the end, the reduced salary now was just an investment.
Alex flipped through several profiles in silence before saying, without even looking up,
"Nadia, call Rebeca Verne... and the rest of the people who submitted their resumes."
He didn't need to explain the rest.
Nadia understood that kind of pause much better now.
Across town, Rebeca Verne was at home, petting a cat in her lap when her phone rang. She yawned, stretched an arm toward the coffee table, and answered with the lazy calm of someone expecting nothing urgent.
"Hello?"
The response came too directly.
"Miss Rebeca, you don't need to keep waiting for the Death Note audition. The boss has removed your name from the shortlist."
The sentence was enough to make her leap off the sofa like she had been electrocuted. Even the cat beside her got startled and bolted away with an indignant meow.
"What? Why?!"
Even though Alex had already made it clear before that he was only giving her a chance - not the role itself - hearing the rejection stated so bluntly still made her voice tremble with the edge of tears.
Sitting in his office chair, Alex raised an eyebrow slightly.
Nadia really had no idea how to soften a sentence, he thought.
Nadia, meanwhile, rolled her eyes in silence. Compared to the way he himself usually mocked Rebeca and her mother, this barely counted as rude.
But under the actress's insistence, she eventually handed the phone over to Alex.
Rebeca wanted to hear the reason from his own mouth.
Alex lifted the phone to his ear and went straight to the point.
"In the Western market, your box office appeal still isn't enough to compete with the actresses I'm considering."
It was as though the sound of the entire world had dimmed on the other end of the line.
Rebeca might not have had a fully accurate sense of her real value in Hollywood, but she wasn't stupid. Even in her domestic market, she didn't have that much of an edge - let alone overseas. The naked truth was cruel precisely because it was undeniable.
Even so, Alex didn't shut the door completely.
"There's no need to be too disappointed. If a suitable role comes up in the future, I'll still consider you."
A slap followed by a piece of candy. An old formula, but an effective one.
And he realized it himself the very next second.
This was starting to feel a little too emotionally manipulative even for his own taste.
On the other end, Rebeca fought hard to keep from crying.
The proper thing to do at that moment would have been to hang up on him and explode in anger. But faced with the new king of the entertainment industry, that courage simply didn't come. There was an invisible pressure around Alex, a weight that felt almost imperial. It was like standing before someone who could determine people's futures with a single sentence, and that crushed any impulse to challenge him before it could even take form.
Her voice unsteady, she asked,
"Then... can you recommend me for a project?"
Alex thought for a few seconds before answering.
"Nirvana in Fire."
In the past few days, he had already sent Emily to audition for one of the drama's most cunning female roles, and Bella for another, quieter and more delicate one. At one point, he had also considered bringing in another veteran actress for the female lead, but then heard that she and Emily had nearly come to blows on the same set before. In the end, he decided it was better to keep the two of them apart.
As for Rebeca, the role of the warrior heroine still seemed viable. She already carried an established image in action and fantasy, and that would help a great deal. Besides, Alex had always thought that in the version he knew from before, the actress who had played that role had done well enough, but she had seemed a bit too mature in some of the more emotionally tender scenes. Especially when she had to address the male lead with youthful warmth, the age gap weighed too heavily on the tone.
Rebeca heard the name of the drama and quietly committed it to memory.
Even so, when she learned Alex wouldn't be acting in it himself, a shadow of disappointment still crossed her heart. It was inevitable.
After ending the call, Nadia noticed that Alex had lingered too long over one of the profiles and finally asked,
"Boss, what do you think of her?"
Alex was still looking at Taylor's photo.
"I just want to make use of her fame."
After reading through her background, he discovered that this future queen of American pop had already appeared in quite a few films and television shows, though she had almost always been playing some version of herself. It wasn't an impressive acting résumé, but it wasn't empty either. More importantly, there was something about the combination of her public image and Misa's character profile that seemed to fit uncannily well.
That almost excessive romantic devotion the character carried... matched Taylor's energy far too perfectly.
The only problem was something else.
Alex found himself wondering whether, if he upset her, she might turn the whole experience into a venomous song later.
After much thought, he still had Regan make the contact.
The next day, he headed out with Nadia to meet Taylor.
He wasn't the one driving. He left that job to the driver, because his cars were far too outrageously eye-catching for that kind of meeting. They were true itasha - vehicles plastered with oversized decals and illustrations bordering on indecent. To Alex, that was part of his personal mission to spread otaku culture to the world. To any minimally discreet person, it was a visual assault on wheels.
After he started showing up in public with those absurd cars, more and more fans began copying him. Soon, vehicles covered in illustrations of Sosuke Aizen, Jasper Quin, Jotaro, Dio, and a host of other iconic characters began appearing everywhere. Alex, of course, considered that irrefutable proof that he had launched yet another cultural trend.
Even so, deep down, he looked down a little on his own followers' lack of taste.
In his view, putting male characters on a car was a waste of potential. The proper path, he thought, was to use characters like Orihime or Harribel. All it took was a proper wash, white foam running down the body of the car, and anyone's imagination would start running wild on its own.
Not long after, he finally met Taylor.
This version of her was still younger, with long golden curls and a face that retained an almost youthful softness. The aura of an absolute queen of American music had not fully taken shape yet, but it was already there in seed form, like a brilliance on the verge of erupting.
In the café where they met, Taylor looked slightly nervous.
"Hi, Aiz... I mean, Alex. I really like your work."
Alex let his gaze travel over her without hurry, assessing her.
The contrast was striking. Her face didn't quite carry that mature, domineering aura that would make someone expect a woman of her height, but those long legs gave her a presence that was almost aggressive. It was strange how someone with such soft features could still feel so imposing simply by standing there.
"Misa suits you pretty well," he said bluntly. "That's why I asked to see you. But let me be clear: if you don't fit the role, I'll replace you immediately, Miss Swift."
Not even the enormous future that still awaited her in the music world changed his attitude. For Alex, rules were rules.
Taylor, however, answered with immediate confidence.
"I'll make sure you're satisfied."
There was firmness in her voice.
Even though her film career had produced nothing truly noteworthy up to that point, she seemed to have an almost instinctive conviction when it came to that character. From the moment she had read the script, she had felt that Misa had been written for her.
Alex almost wanted to laugh.
Of course it felt natural, he thought. The two of them shared that same intense emotional impulse, that same almost dangerous tendency to throw themselves body and soul into whatever they felt. The only question was how far Taylor would go when she was truly involved.
And for a second, he seriously considered testing that himself.
A few days later, on the set of Nirvana in Fire, Emily failed to hold back a laugh.
Bella, always quick to pick up on her mood, hurried over.
"What is it, Emily?"
Emily raised her phone with a smile full of malice.
On the screen, the headline read: Rebeca Verne Rejected for Death Note Lead Audition.
Satisfaction flooded through her in an almost childish wave.
Of all the women Emily disliked, Rebeca was at the very top of the list. Ever since failing to push Bella into Alex's arms, she had been worried that Rebeca might land the role and get even closer to him. Now, seeing the news confirmed, she felt her whole body relax.
At last, she could breathe.
Mark, already in costume for filming, lowered his voice and pointed discreetly to the side.
"Emily... look over there."
She lifted her eyes.
Not far away, Rebeca was standing there in costume, glaring at her with a look full of resentment. There was bitterness, humiliation, and a spark of hostility so raw it almost looked murderous.
Emily froze for two seconds.
On the third, she lifted her chin and returned the exact same stare.
After all, Rebeca already knew perfectly well how much she hated her.
So to hell with courtesy. The performance was over.
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