Hell's Actor

Chapter 261: Not So Wrong, Not So Right

"Do I really have to go?" he asked.And she answered, "Yes."

He couldn’t forget those desperate eyes, that pleading gaze.

"I want to see you up there—on that podium."

He watched her with glazed eyes. Those earrings Min-Ha had picked for her glimmered in the beauty of the night, catching his gaze.

And that song he had been listening to on repeat for the last two hours kept playing in his head.

"Please, if not for yourself, do it for me."

He couldn’t say no to such a solemn request.

"The ceremony is live; everyone back home is watching."

One of them was his cousin, he knew.

The night was cold... and the limousine seats warm.

The view outside was beautiful, too.

It was like looking at a night sky full of stars. Despite being a poor imitation, it was there, as real as reality allowed it to be.

A barrage of flashes.

That’s what was waiting for him outside—on that red carpet leading from his door to the venue entrance.

What should an actor in his shoes feel, he didn’t deign to think. All he knew was that his blazer was tailored perfectly and that his bow tie was snug.

It was a funny night.

It scattered his thoughts, his usual mannerisms, and his dismissive attitude.

He couldn’t focus.

He was lost—very much lost in that song repeating in his head.

That cheery beat, carrying melancholic undertones, went round and round like a carousel.

Maybe he was still lost in the world of Lady Ethereal.

’But isn’t that alright?’

They loved him for that, after all—so much so that not a single one doubted that he would win an award. Neither did the actor, nor did his company.

This thing, this festival—it had become bigger than it was ever designed to be. It had gathered more eyes than he could ever imagine.

’What an occasion... that even the photographers must adorn sharp tuxedos.’

Almost like a king was about to be wed.

’Not so wrong, not so right.’

Almost hypnotically, he opened the door.

"Won’t you walk me down the aisle, Rin?"

The girl shook her head.

"Not everyone can welcome such attention." She looked regretful yet happy, sad yet joyous. "It doesn’t suit me."

Holding sentimentality back, she waved him goodbye.

"Shine for both of us."

Once again, as he stepped out, the flashes erupted. It looked like the stars had descended.

And the man, half lost in his dreams, walked down the red carpet.

It was the last day of the festival—the day of the ceremony.

***

It had been days since Kara regained her freedom. It didn’t happen with a climactic ceremony or heartfelt goodbyes.

That day, when they climbed the telephone tower, she was left to observe from the base of it.

And when they jumped, she wasn’t far away. She knew they were lunatics, possibly on high on drugs, but such a scenario was beyond her.

Staying in a nearby hotel, she couldn’t find the courage to return home.

Nonetheless, she was alive. And she was free.

"So, that’s him..."

While walking down the vast streets of Berlin, she heard a voice.

A small crowd of foreigners was gathered in a bar. She could’ve understood the buzz if it were a sports bar, but it wasn’t.

It was one of those vintage bars with a small television box in a corner.

A live broadcast was on.

Magically, Kara’s feet carried her into the bar, her gaze stuck to the screen that radiated warmth.

A glamorous man with an equally mystical demeanor was displayed.

She had seen his auburn hair and amber eyes before.

She was so lost in the calling of his gaze that it took her a while to register the words falling from the pair of men gathered on the stage.

"And the winner of this year’s Serenes Best Leading Performance is..."

There was no dramatic break, no dragging of words. It wasn’t a popularity contest but an art contest.

There were no guessing games, no stolen gazes at the nominees. Like the sky hanging over the world, one particular name seemed inevitable.

"...playing The Photographer in Lady Ethereal: Averie Quinn Auclair."

And then poured the applause, forceful like the tides.

Throughout the world, his face was broadcast as he languidly stood up, accepted the congratulations, and climbed up the stairs to the podium.

There was no hurry in his steps. He didn’t seem excited, nervous, or relieved.

Clapping with enthusiasm, Josephine Petite looked happier for him.

His gaze was attracted solely to the trophy. Made of platinum, gold, and diamonds, it invited him.

It had this abstract form that couldn’t support itself, so in a case made of wood—designed to look like an ancient tome—it stayed.

Averie accepted the bizarrely beautiful award and placed it on the podium stand.

Slowly, the applause died down.

"I was told to express my gratitude for the award. Humbly," he said in the least enthusiastic voice possible. "So, thank you, humbly." He pointed a finger in the general direction of the cast and crew. "I couldn’t have won it without that group of people over there."

He snapped his fingers and stared directly at the bright, hot stage lights.

"What else was there, what else was there," he murmured, nodding his head to the song repeating in his head.

When no revelation came to him, he thought about climbing down. But the words of Hyerin wouldn’t allow him.

"It’s your night," she had said. "Say whatever you want. No one will get mad."

Was that really true? No matter the conversation, half the time, he would zone out while listening to her. But it wasn’t the case this time.

He looked up. Despite the blinding lights focused on him, he could make out the faces.

Not a single face looked annoyed or displeased with his half-hearted speech.

’They don’t seem to hate me today. What’s the occasion, fellas?’

"Oh, yes, one more thing." He raised the award and leaned into the mic. "I won it, my friend."