I Accidentally Became A Superstar - Chapter 138

Chapter 138: Nepotism Baby
“Ah, fuck!” Oska exclaimed as he threw his bag on the car floor. He was fuming after that unknown guy had humiliated him.

He breathed heavily as he looked at where the nasty truck he went into was and scoffed. Who did he think he was speaking to Oska like that when he had such a trash ride?

“What are you doing?” he snapped at the person on the driver’s seat. “Drive.”

“Yes, sir,” Assistant Byun muttered.

Oska’s eyes narrowed, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “What are you doing here anyway? Where’s my manager?”

“He ate something bad and had to go to the hospital due to explosive diarrhea,” Assistant Byun said. “Mr. Kim told me to assist you myself.”

Oska clicked his tongue and shook his head. “I guess that’s good. You can take me to Saliva tonight, can you?”

Assistant Byun pursed his lips and didn’t heed to his request right away. “I’m assuming the auditions didn’t go well?”

“Not at all,” Oska muttered. “It went fantastic, in fact. I just ran into a cocky actor.”

The assistant resisted asking—’cockier than you?’ Instead, he cleared his throat and nodded to empathize with him. “I’m sorry to hear that, sir.”

Oska sighed deeply, looking at the scenery. Even the green trees and billboards of gorgeous idols couldn’t lift up his mood. “So, can you take me to Saliva or not?”

“Your father wouldn’t like it, sir,” he said.

Oska kicked his seat, but Assistant Byun kept his composure.

“What about my dad? He’s not going to know.”

“That’s what you said the last time, sir,” Assistant Byun muttered.

“What are you whispering under your breath for?” Oska asked, already annoyed. He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“Who cares about what my dad thinks? He’s busy with his new film anyway,” Oska said. “Just tell Mr. Kim that I’m going to Saliva, and he’ll give us one of the molars.”

“Do it, or I’ll make you regret even picking me up.”

Assistant Byun’s face didn’t change. Instead, he nodded.

“Alright, sir,” he said, making a turn to go to the Saliva bar.

With that, Oska sighed in relief, pulling out a cigarette and rolling the windows slightly down. He lit it up with an old lighter before placing it between his lips and taking a deep breath.

He closed his eyes as he felt the cool sensation of addiction go down his throat. “This is it,” he muttered.

Assistant Byun placed on a mask to prevent himself from having a coughing fit.

“Ah, right. I almost forgot,” Oska said, leaning against the front seat, the smoke leaving his lips and veering to Assistant Byun.

“Did Mr. Kim talk to Daeshim PD?”

“Yes,” Assistant Byun squeezed out, not wanting to breathe in the actor’s smoky breath.

A wide smile appeared on Oska’s lips. “Good,” he said, leaning back, causing the assistant to silently sigh in relief.

“That cousin of mine is the best, really,” he chuckled. “Whoever that hooded man doesn’t even stand a chance.”

“He’s lucky he didn’t show his face.”

“Otherwise, I’d have his career ruined in an instant.”

***

“How did it go?” Moby asked as soon as Zeno entered his truck.

“It was fine,” Zeno answered.

He didn’t receive any comments; however, from what he had shown thus far in the span he had been acting, he felt the most satisfied with his performance in this audition.

Maybe it was because he had read the book before or if he had started his rebellion. However, acting actually seemed like a pretty fulfilling profession.

“You did well,” Moby said with a small smile. “You always do well.”

A small smirk appeared on Zeno’s lips. “How are you so sure?”

Moby shrugged. “I don’t know,” he muttered. “I just have a feeling.”

“You’re much younger than me, but you’re already so competent. You have a lot of knowledge in your young mind, and sometimes, I feel like you’ve lived more than a hundred years.”

He chuckled out loud. “Is that weird?”

“Not at all,” Zeno said.

Moby actually got it spot on. For someone so dumb, he had some great insights, too.

“However, like I said earlier,” Moby added, a twinge of sadness in his tone. “Don’t be too disappointed if you don’t get the role. It’s not because you’re not talented, but because the system is still messed up.”

Zeno pursed his lips. “I know,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “It’s a system that favors the rich and influential.”

“Correct,” Moby chimed, clicking his tongue.

“You don’t have to tell me this,” Zeno said.

He already knew. He had witnessed the injustices of the world far too many times to be unfamiliar with it.

“I just wanted to say it,” he chuckled, nudging Zeno’s shoulder.

“We’ve lost way too many artists who couldn’t handle that reality,” he whispered to himself, but Zeno still heard it.

With that, the two of them continued their drive to the Dreamy Entertainment building. However, halfway there, Moby’s phone rang.

Zeno glanced at the caller ID. “Baby Gaby,” he read, his brows furrowing in confusion. Did Moby have a lover?

“Can you put it on speaker?” he asked Zeno. “It’s Sir Bobby’s daughter.”

Zeno’s eyebrows raised, turning to Moby. He called Bobby’s daughter ‘baby’? Bobby and Moby didn’t have much of an age gap, so that might be a case in court.

Moby noticed Zeno’s expression, and he frantically shook his head. “No!” he exclaimed. “You’re thinking wrong.”

“I’ve watched Gaby since she was a baby.”

Zeno’s eyebrows raised even more, causing Moby to panic.

“I was her babysitter!” he exclaimed.

Everything he said was pulling him under.

“She’s only 11, and during the times Sir Bobby was busy, I stood in as her father. It’s not anything you’re thinking, I promise.”

Zeno dropped it… for now.

“Anyway, she only calls me when Sir Bobby does not respond. He’s in Busan with Leni and Sarang for a festival again. Please answer the call. It might be an emergency.”

Zeno merely nodded and pressed on the ‘answer’ button.

A sigh of relief was heard on the other line.

“Gaby?” Moby softly asked. “What happened? Do you need anything?”

Another sigh was heard, but this time, it was filled with sadness. Still, she didn’t say anything.

“Gaby?” Moby repeated, frowning. “Is something wrong? Can you tell your uncle about it?”

Gaby cleared her throat, and in a small voice, she asked, “Uncle, can you come pick me up?”

The little girl sounded so broken that even Zeno frowned.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Where are you?” Moby continuously asked.

Gaby didn’t answer his former questions.

Instead, she merely said, “In front of my music school, please.”