Guilty as Gorgeous | Chapter 5
Phutphitchaya drove away from the Siwaratchaphakdee estate alone, as Watshon had insisted on riding with Wikrant. Their destination was the same: his luxury condominium in the heart of the city.
Wan Hom, or Wikrant, had been a third-year senior when Phutphitchaya first entered her freshman year at the Faculty of Communication Arts, majoring in Mass Communications at a state university. He came from a wealthy business family, while she was a student from a middle-class background, working tirelessly to earn money to ease her family's financial burden. With her two younger siblings still in school and the loss of her father, the family's pillar, years ago, the responsibility was heavy.
She was a striking girl, and it was Wikrant who recruited her to join the cheerleading squad he led. A girl who loved being active, Phutphitchaya didn't refuse, even though she had to balance her time between heavy textbooks and helping her mother bake sweets for sale.
Their compatible natures forged a deep bond ever since. Eventually, Wikrant encouraged her to enter a hosting competition for a television program. With her agile personality, eloquent speech, and stunning physique, the young girl took home the runner-up prize. Small jobs began to trickle in steadily until the young man graduated and moved on.
After only a few months of working for his family's firm, Wikrant clashed with an executive who held a prejudice against the queer community and claimed he only held his position because he was the youngest son of the family. Their confrontation was so severe that Wikrant's father had to ask him to take a leave of absence to cool off, out of deference to that long-standing executive.
Coincidentally, Phutphitchaya's fame was beginning to rise. She had just landed a villain role in a major drama—the same period she met Watshon. As commercials and event invitations started pouring in, Wikrant offered himself up as her manager.
"I'm not cut out for the family business. I was born for the entertainment industry. My father knows it, yet he keeps trying to force me," he said.
"And here I thought you wanted to prove his insults wrong," Phutphitchaya replied with a smile.
"I could win, but what's the point if I have to do work I hate? If I had to see that old fossil every day, I'd have premature wrinkles that even Botox couldn't fix. Being your manager is far more delightful... I get to see so many buff—I mean, handsome men..." He trailed off, his eyes sparkling as he glanced at a new leading man on the set where Phutphitchaya was working. "Indulging in 'eye candy' every day keeps me healthy."
"My income isn't much yet. How much of a cut could I possibly give you? Is it even worth it for you?" She asked because she knew well that a man of Wikrant's background dressed in designer labels from head to toe.
She, on the other hand, was frugal, driven by a desire to save every penny. She managed her own chaotic schedule, hopping from one job to another until she barely had time to study and her grades began to slip. Part of her, still new to the industry, longed for a trusted friend to look after her, yet she refused to take advantage of him.
Knowing her through and through, he shot her a sharp look. "Oh, don't you worry about that. While you're not famous yet, I'll just take ten percent for food and gas. Once you're big, you tell me the rate you want, and I'll deal for you. As for my fee, I'll handle that myself."
"How can that be? You have to manage my schedule, contact clients, and sometimes even do my hair and makeup," the young girl said uneasily. She was a junior then, studying hard and determined to graduate in four years without dropping out, as her mother had begun to complain.
"Don't overthink it. If I weren't confident, I wouldn't dare stick my neck out to be your 'entourage' and risk your reputation. Just you wait and see if this Wan Hom can't turn you into a star—a top-tier household name."
Phutphitchaya had laughed then, skeptical. She thought that as long as she had a steady, decent income, she would be satisfied.
But only two years later, Wikrant proved he was a man of his word. He handled everything—her personal affairs, her wardrobe, her hair, her makeup, and her entire schedule—so she could focus on her studies. He sent her to additional acting classes and supported her by taking her to dance and vocal training in Korea during her breaks to sharpen her skills.
His family background also served as an excellent gateway to industry elders, drama executives, and producers. Wikrant would present her to agencies, befriending organizers and brand owners he knew through his high-society circles. He negotiated with her home station to allow her to take lucrative outside work, updated her activities across all social media platforms, and organized fan meetings and merit-making trips—claiming they were to 'boost her luck.' Today, she boasts millions of social media followers, rivaling some of the country's top leading ladies.
It could be said that her success would never have reached this height without Wikrant behind the scenes.
"Are you trying too hard, Wan? We could just donate money instead," she would sometimes ask in a weary voice when she had to wake up at dawn to go to a merit-making event upcountry, organized by a prominent fan leader.
"Oh, please! These days, you have to hit it from every angle. You need to show your face and win over the fans. If your luck drops, even being 'trendy' won't save you. People need to constantly support their destiny and boost their fortune to stay 'Heng' (lucky). I'm going to craft your image as the 'good-natured villain' until the whole country loves you. Besides, this particular fan of yours works in the media..." He whispered a prominent media name. "They adore you. Can't you see how they help push you into the news all the time?"
Her workload increased until she could support her family comfortably. There was time left for her studies, even if she had to skip some classes, thanks to Wikrant's efficient management. He, too, earned a substantial income, leading to gossip that this villain actress's rates were higher than others. When those close to him asked, Wikrant would reply:
"Higher? Shanya's rate has been the same for months. I just add a little extra as a 'service fee' like any other job, that's all."
In truth, if Phutphitchaya's fee was three hundred thousand, he would add whatever amount he desired as his own commission and present the total to the employer. His talent for entertaining elders, combined with his actress's professionalism, discipline, and flexibility, meant that most employers rarely haggled over the price, even if it was a bit steep.
But luck and positive news do not stay by anyone's side forever...
Her reputation had been spotless since entering the industry; she had never made an enemy until her initial friction with Nisakorn.
What started as a single spark grew into a second, eventually spiraling out of control as various factors fueled the fire.
The cast of characters in her life at that time, beyond Phutphitchaya and Nisakorn, included key figures like Methas—the playboy son of Manika, a media mogul with formidable industry connections. There was Sia Maitree, a major real estate mogul, and Sarut, the station's rising leading man who was dating Watshon at the time. And then, Sia Bancha and Khaekhai, his legal wife, and their family.
Over two years ago, a grave incident occurred, one so severe that those close to them knew the station's top leading lady and its top villain would never reconcile.
No one knew the true cause because the parties involved kept their mouths shut. But scandalous rumors about Phutphitchaya began to surface, much like the rumors surrounding Watshon.
However, Phutphitchaya was able to maintain her footing, thanks to Wikrant and several others who came to her aid. This was in stark contrast to the former leading lady, whom everyone seemed to turn their backs on, despite Phutphitchaya and her manager's best efforts to look after her.
That incident left psychological scars on everyone involved, with her as the central fuse.
The young woman felt a deep sense of guilt and debt toward her dear friend. She tried to fix everything with patience, but sometimes her help was futile when the recipient refused to cooperate—instead damaging her own reputation again and again, unable to bear the weight of her losses.