Chapter 50
The filming of a drama takes about four months, over 100 days. The male and female leads are present almost every day. Even complete strangers should be seventy percent familiar with each other after acting together for four months.
Even if it’s just out of politeness, the probability of him rejecting her advances is very low. Ohara Ryusei was quite confident when he sent the message.
First, he would close the distance with an intimate form of address. Then, he would use their unique co-star relationship to ferment ambiguity. Finally, with some appropriate media hype, a striking on-screen couple would be born.
A couple that is shipped can share each other’s popularity. Ohara’s popularity was not low, but compared to Fan An, who had an astonishing number of fans despite rarely making public appearances, he was still inferior.
She was destined to be famous. He couldn’t be envious.
“It’s fine,” Ohara said, looking at his well-maintained face in the mirror. “When the drama airs, many people will definitely ship the male and female leads. And by extension, they’ll ship the real-life couple. If we reveal that we developed feelings from acting at that time, all the headlines for the rest of the year will be ours.”
Maybe even a lot of CP fans would dig up their past works and make edits. Ohara had acted in many idol dramas and had a lot of material. Fan An also—
Ohara’s beautiful fantasy came to a halt. He suddenly remembered that all the material related to Fan An seemed to be from the crime section…
The path she had carved for herself in the entertainment industry was still unmatched.
This made it even more exciting. Ohara’s desire to be challenged was aroused.
He styled his bangs in the mirror, wondering if he should start a conversation later about his evening skincare routine, and pretend to inadvertently reveal the abs he had worked so hard for in the gym.
Ding!
Ohara received a reply. He smiled calmly and opened it.
[No.]
Three simple words, which shattered Ohara’s iron-clad, hairspray-fixed bangs.
“She must have made a typo,” Ohara said to himself, as if in a trance. “Or someone took her phone and played a prank. It must be!”
There was no reason! His wording had been a little ambiguous, but it was just the right amount of ambiguity. If the other person was also interested in him, they would be able to sense the ambiguity. If the other person had no other thoughts, they would think he was very polite. Either way, it was a good impression. There was no reason to be rejected.
Unless she already had a boyfriend, and he was a very sharp person who could see through Ohara’s attempt to steal his girl at a glance, and had ordered the girl to refuse.
“A man who is too controlling is not popular.”
Ohara whispered, “How is she going to face me tomorrow? Hehe, when she’s embarrassed and shy, she’ll think I’m the most understanding person.”
Thinking of this, Ohara regained his confidence. He contacted his private makeup artist and gave detailed instructions for tomorrow’s makeup.
…
The next day, on the set, Director Yuko was blinded.
She didn’t quite understand the reason for Ohara’s sudden use of a large amount of hairspray and hair oil. The screenwriter, on the other hand, nodded in approval. “The male lead should be serving looks. It’s very in line with his character.”
The filming schedule was very tight, especially for Fan An. Every scene was hers. Ohara hadn’t been able to find a chance to talk to her alone.
As the sky grew dark, Director Yuko announced that there would be no night scenes today, and everyone could go home. Ohara rushed in front of Fan An in one step.
Third time’s the charm. Ohara had already witnessed the girl’s wind-like speed when getting off work twice. Today, he would not let her run away.
“Is something wrong?” An’an didn’t understand why someone wasn’t enthusiastic about getting off work. “We’ll talk about the script tomorrow.”
“It’s not about work,” Ohara quickly explained.
Then what was he stopping her for? An’an was even more confused.
The confusion on the girl’s face was very noticeable, making Ohara almost forget the opening line he had drafted.
Could it be that she hadn’t received his message at all? Ohara thought of a new possibility.
Maybe someone had taken her phone, replied out of jealousy, and then deleted the message, keeping her completely in the dark.
Ohara saw himself in the girl’s eyes, impeccably handsome after being carefully dressed up. His confidence soared.
“I sent you a message yesterday,” Ohara said, with a hurt expression. “But I didn’t receive your reply…”
“I replied,” An’an interrupted him.
She took out her phone, opened the chat, and showed it to Ohara. “Here, the chat history.”
The cold “No.” was right in front of Ohara’s eyes. His face became stiff.
“Did my message not go through?” An’an said apologetically. “I didn’t know you were waiting for a reply. I’ll send it again.”
Ohara’s phone vibrated. He received a new message, exactly the same as the last one: “No.”
Important things must be said three times. An’an lowered her head and typed, “As compensation, I’ll send it again.”
[No.]
[No.]
[No.]
Ohara: Enough!
This is killing me!
“Why?” he asked, hurt.
Ohara used all his acting skills to make himself look extremely pitiful, vowing to make her feel the condemnation of her conscience. “Did I do something wrong?”
He had the expression of a victim. Suspect An’s DNA was triggered.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said truthfully. “I was the one who accepted a bribe.”
Her hand, curled up, had been enveloped in Amuro’s palm. He had leaned in, his warmth radiating, his dazzling blond hair shining in An’an’s eyes like the sun.
The young man, who had always been patient and understanding, had frankly stated his jealousy and possessiveness. Knowing that his request was a little selfish, he had still made it, hoping his girlfriend would agree.
Could An’an refuse? Could she?
Her: I admit I can’t resist temptation, but Tōru-kun promised to wear the cat apron for me again tomorrow.
Completely wrapped around his finger.jpg
I’m sorry. She couldn’t do anything to hurt Tōru-kun, but hurting Ohara was completely fine.
“It’s okay if you hate me,” An’an said with great tolerance. “Just endure it until the end of filming. Four months will pass quickly. Life will also pass quickly.”
Ohara: Wait a minute, this isn’t how it’s supposed to go!
There was still a chance to salvage the situation. He had carefully styled himself, worn trendy clothes that he thought the girl would like. Ohara very casually shifted his position to show off his better-looking right profile.
The girl did indeed pause, as if she were stunned for a moment.
There’s a chance. A smile leaked from the corners of Ohara’s mouth.
He cleared his throat with restraint. “You…”
“Are you here to pick me up from work?” the dark-haired girl said, walking past him and running forward without hesitation.
She had a bright smile on her face and said cheerfully, “Why didn’t you tell me beforehand? Have you been waiting long?”
Under the plane tree on the street, the blond young man, leaning against a white Mazda, smiled and straightened up. He opened his windbreaker and hugged the girl who had rushed into his arms.
“I haven’t been waiting long,” Amuro said. He looked up and glanced at Ohara in the distance. “Was An’an being pestered?”
The wool sweater under the windbreaker was exceptionally soft, making one want to bury their face in it and rub against it. An’an couldn’t lift her head from the gentle haven. “It was the person who sent the message yesterday. He didn’t seem to have received my reply, so I sent it two more times.”
Just as there are people who are hit by a direct ball, there are also people who are hurt by a direct ball. Amuro put himself in Ohara’s shoes and thought that if it were him, he would have probably dug a hole and buried himself in it.
Love and not loving are really obvious. An honest person like An’an wouldn’t even pretend.
“So persistent,” Amuro said in a low voice. “And he even dressed up so carefully.”
A person who makes a living as an actor wouldn’t have a bad foundation to begin with. Ohara had always been confident in his looks. This morning, while he was doing his makeup, his mind was full of “Won’t this just kill her?”
He looked at the blond young man across the street as if he were looking at an enemy.
Ha, as a man, who could be fooled by those little tricks? This person had definitely dressed up carefully before coming to pick her up.
A khaki windbreaker paired with a white wool sweater, which further accentuated his broad shoulders and long legs. The open windbreaker just happened to wrap the girl in, completely covering her, not to be peeked at by outsiders.
He could have waited in the car, but he had chosen to stand under the plane tree. The light from the streetlamp shone through the tree’s shadow and fell on his blond hair. The cool night wind seemed to be dyed with a warm color as it passed him.
Unlike Ohara, who had very casually shown his right profile, the other person didn’t need to find an angle at all. Just standing there was enough to attract attention.
A man’s jealousy is truly terrifying. Amuro’s eyes were lowered, feeling the terrifying gaze fixed on him.
What is he so jealous of? the blond young man thought carelessly. It was his lover who was being coveted.
Can the affection performed in front of the camera be taken seriously? A person who gets nothing after leaving the script.
“An’an,” Amuro smiled. “Want to continue the game from last time?”
His fingertip tapped his cheek.
A game where they took turns, one at a time. An’an thought it was very fair.
She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Amuro’s cheek.
…
The white Mazda drove away from the street. Ohara stood there, motionless.
He stood there until his agent came to find him. The agent was startled by his celebrity’s expression.
“What’s wrong with you?” the agent asked in horror. “Why are you shattered into a million pieces?!”
Ohara had no strength to speak. Last night, he had been prepared for the other person to have a boyfriend, and had been confident that he could win. The one who is not loved is the third party.
…He had been seen through, and had been provoked back by her real boyfriend.
Ohara’s plan was completely ruined.
His plan to start an underground relationship during filming, and then to hype up the scandal in coordination with the drama’s popularity after it aired, and to choose the right time to go public to steal her traffic, was ruined.
In fact, the girl would never accept something like an underground relationship. She was open and honest about who she liked and didn’t care what the scoundrels in the gutter thought.
“It’s the rising stage of her career. Isn’t she afraid of being photographed by the paparazzi?” Ohara said with jealousy.
The Agent: “Because it’s already night, right?”
“What a joke,” Ohara retorted. “How could the paparazzi possibly get off work on time at night? There are still many people staking out the set during the day.”
“Maybe it’s because,” the agent said uncertainly, “this is near the border of Beika Town?”
The legendary City of Crime, with no return. It was said that the nights in Beika Town were a forbidden zone for ordinary humans.
The agent was not a resident of Beika Town. He didn’t know if the rumors were true or not, but it was true that most paparazzi didn’t take street photography jobs in Beika.
The white Mazda was heading towards Beika Town. Ohara’s face was a mixture of sunny and cloudy.
“As long as there’s enough money, someone will take the job.”
He instructed his agent harshly, “Go find someone who’s willing to risk it. Tell them I have a big story for them.”