(T/N: Language warning: slurs. Skip this chapter if you are triggered easily because omfg this arc needs to end)
—As for the person I’d like you to introduce me to…
The name Gyeong Chanhyeon brought up was one that even Chester had no choice but to nod to.
“Miles Jack…”
Chester’s hand trembled slightly as he lit a cigarette.
Miles Jack.
The pop star who had unified the world.
His songs had moved the hearts of people across the globe.
He refused to let the world be dictated by things like skin color.
Rather, he sought to change the world into a place where skin color simply didn’t matter.
—Yes. He is certainly someone who can settle this entire situation in one stroke.
“But… Why would Miles Jack help? Do you think it’s even possible to persuade him?”
—If I am only given the opportunity to meet him.
At the conviction in Gyeong Chanhyeon’s voice, Chester crushed his barely-smoked cigarette into the ashtray.
If, as Gyeong Chanhyeon claimed, he could actually persuade Miles Jack, he might be able to overturn this situation instantly.
Although his influence had diminished significantly since ‘that incident,’ he was still a hero to Black people, and above all, he was Black himself.
If someone like Miles Jack simply said, ‘This movie is not talking about racial discrimination,’ there was a high probability that the controversy would vanish in an instant.
“Hah, persuasion aside, the man doesn’t even let people know where he is…”
Since that incident, only Miles Jack’s closest aides knew his whereabouts.
He did not easily reveal his location to the public.
—I am asking for your help. With your connections, Mr. Chester… the possibility will at least increase.
“Fine. I get it. I’ll give it a try.”
Click.
After hanging up the phone, Chester pulled out a notebook that had been tucked away in a corner.
“I won’t be getting any sleep tonight. Dammit.”
Emil Duke looked around after stepping out of his car.
A place shrouded in silent darkness.
There were no residential houses within a one-kilometer radius, but Duke scanned the surroundings with a tense gaze before entering a shabby wooden house.
And in the basement of that wooden house.
As Duke stepped toward the sound of boisterous noise, the people who had arrived first greeted him.
“The star of the show is here!”
“Good work! Man, this latest project was a huge hit!”
Duke responded to the friendly greetings with a relaxed smile.
“That ‘ching-chang-chong’ movie. The way it got wrecked—that was also the work of our Grand Wizard, right?”
“Truly amazing. To hide us perfectly and make the niggers and yellow monkeys fight each other. There’s a reason he’s called the Grand Wizard.”
At their praise, Duke chuckled and gave a slight shrug.
“Well, moving brainless niggers around is an easy task. Noble-skinned people like us can’t be part of such a dogfight, can we?”
A dogfight between inferior races viewed from a high-rise building.
There was no spectacle more entertaining than that.
A picture where Black people attack Asians, and Asians, becoming victims, attack Black people in return.
The members of the group wore bright smiles, seemingly satisfied with the beautiful image.
“Haha. By the way, how was that yellow monkey movie?”
At a man’s question, Duke remained silent for a moment, as if thinking.
“It was probably terrible. How well could an Asian possibly make a movie?”
“Right. How well can a monkey film anything?”
At their sneers, Duke forced a smile and replied.
“It looked like he just handed a camera to some kid passing by. It was a movie made by someone who doesn’t even know the basics.”
At Duke’s answer, everyone cackled and added their comments.
“Niggers are at least worth some money. But now these yellow monkey bastards are even eyeing America. People who aren’t even worth a dime. Tsk. I wish they’d just fuck off.”
“It’s only a matter of time before those bastards go back to their own countries. Let’s all toast to the Grand Wizard’s great actions.”
A white man sitting in the seat of honor raised his glass and shouted.
“For a whiter and more beautiful America!”
Music flowing from massive speakers.
To the beat of the music that had once shaken the world, Miles was immersed in dance practice with his dancers.
After a long period of practice, Miles spoke to the dancers behind him with a bright smile.
“Let’s call it a day. Everyone, good work.”
At Miles’s words, the backup dancers let out sighs of relief.
“If we did one more run, I really would have collapsed. Do you see this sweat?”
“I was on the verge of total dehydration…”
“I’m so glad it’s over. I thought I was going to die.”
Miles didn’t lose his bright smile as he called out the names of the dancers leaving through the door.
And as soon as they all left, he leaned against the wall and gasped for air.
Now nearing fifty.
No matter how well he managed his body, he couldn’t move like he did in his twenties.
Joints that felt like they were creaking, and fatigue accumulated from a lack of proper sleep.
His body felt infinitely heavy, but he had to endure it.
Only then could he show a good side to the fans who were waiting for him.
Knock, knock.
Someone had returned.
At the sound of the knocking, Miles struggled to pull himself up again and said with a smile.
“Yes. Come in.”
When the door opened and his manager entered, Miles felt relieved and leaned against the wall once more.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes. Not just alright, I’m happy. So happy. Because this is what I truly wanted to do.”
At Miles’s bright smile, the manager looked at him with pity.
Then, the manager handed a piece of paper to Miles.
“Someone wants to see you, Mr. Miles.”
“Whoever it is… I told you to refuse, didn’t I?”
The terrible ‘incident’ that had befallen Miles Jack.
The horrific false accusation of child sexual abuse that had suddenly been thrust upon him.
Although he was cleared through a trial, there were still people in the public who believed the accusation.
Some believed that he simply bought his innocence because he had a lot of money.
The life of a pop star who had broken the cultural boundaries between Black and white people had collapsed so tragically.
After that, it wasn’t even easy to meet people he had been close with.
It was as if he could read their minds; he could see exactly what they were thinking.
-A Black man who wanted to be white.
-A child molester.
-A pop star who bought his innocence with money.
Against such trashy rumors, the only thing Miles could lean on was music.
“You… you did say that, but… you remember Mr. Chester, right? The one who invested in Neverland before.”
“Yeah. Why him?”
“He asked so desperately. Though the person coming to visit isn’t him… he asked me to give this to you first.”
[Escape from the system.]
“Uh…”
Miles blinked in confusion as he took the note.
[Why can’t I live as I wish? This is my life, and I am not living it for you.]
Lyrics written by Miles.
Miles became curious about those lyrics.
It was a song that should have been included in a previously released album, but because it leaked on the internet, it couldn’t be included.
Seeing the paper with only the lyrics of that song written on it, Miles stared intently at his manager.
“What will you do? An Asian film director really wants to see you.”
“An Asian film director? Not Mr. Chester?”
“Yes. Ah, he’s a director caught up in a controversy lately. It seems Mr. Chester was just an intermediary contact.”
The manager handed a document to Miles.
Leaning against the wall, Miles skimmed through the document.
‘He’s Korean…’
Miles had visited Korea four times.
As memories of those visits surfaced, a smile spread across Miles’s lips.
The first thing he remembered was the ’96 performance.
It had been over ten years now.
As the vivid image of the enthusiastic Korean people flashed through his mind, the smile on his lips grew wider.
“But what controversy?”
“Ah, hmm… they’re saying it’s racial discrimination. The movie hasn’t even been released yet, but he’s already being attacked. I heard there are even protests in front of the production company.”
The manager spoke, frowning with distaste.
“Racial discrimination?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t it make no sense, logically, for an Asian to make a movie that discriminates against Black people in Hollywood?”
At Miles’s question, the manager wore a look of uncertainty.
“Who knows?”
“It’s a suicidal act. Unless he’s insane…”
“There are a lot of strange people these days. Well, he’s probably just one of them.”
Miles frowned at the manager’s words.
‘Strange people… I must seem that way to others too. I’ll just be dismissed as a strange person.’
The rumors surrounding him.
In truth, if even a single one of them had been true, he wouldn’t have felt this unfairly wronged.
“I think it’s better to at least hear what he has to say.”
“What?”
The manager asked, eyes wide with surprise.
At that reaction, Miles asked curiously.
“Why?”
The manager blinked, flustered.
“No, it’s just… you refused to meet all sorts of high-ranking officials… so I naturally assumed you wouldn’t meet him…?”
“Aren’t predictions meant to be broken? Just contact him.”
Wiping away the dripping sweat, Miles struggled his way out of the practice room.
A few days later.
Thanks to Junseong, the movie release could be postponed.
Although there were losses, it was far better than releasing the movie immediately in the current situation.
And good news arrived from Miles Jack’s manager, who had been connected through Chester.
–-I’ll send you the address of Mr. Miles’s office in Los Angeles. You can visit there.
“Phew…”
And for several days, I agonized endlessly over how to move Miles’s heart.
In Miles’s eyes, I might currently look like a racist.
Therefore, I dressed as neatly as possible.
A suit that looked clean and wouldn’t make me look like a racist at all.
Perhaps because I had worn it so often on set, it didn’t even feel uncomfortable anymore.
“Are you really going alone?”
Junseong asked.
“Yeah.”
“Did you go to MJ’s concert in Korea?”
“’96? Weren’t we in the army then?”
“I took a leave of absence to go. But you going alone, isn’t that crossing a line?”
Junseong grumbled and let out a deep sigh.
“It’s not a meeting to discuss business. It’ll just be a headache if too many people are there. And it’s dangerous outside right now. Even Mr. James is coming along just in case of any unforeseen accidents.”
People were lined up in front of Seonghyeon KMD Pictures as well.
There was no telling what the people protesting with signs featuring my face might do.
Especially in America.
In a society where firearms are permitted, one had to be cautious and then cautious again.
“Still…”
Junseong understood, but his expression was one of great regret.
Although there were other urgent matters, Miles Jack was an existence on a different level.
Since he was a global superstar, Junseong seemed to have been quite looking forward to it.
“I’ll mention it. That the CEO of Seonghyeon KMD Pictures wants to meet him.”
“Really? Promise?”
“Sigh. Alright.”
Leaving the expectant Junseong behind, I headed to the parking lot with James.
Wearing a bulletproof vest might seem excessive, but there was no harm in being careful.
As soon as I got in the car, James saw me let out a deep sigh and spoke.
“It’s a long drive. You look very tired; why don’t you get some sleep?”
“Ah, no. It would be a bit weird to sleep in the passenger seat.”
As I answered, I looked at my face reflected in the rearview mirror.
Hollow eyes and a haggard face, likely due to stress.
Perhaps because I hadn’t slept properly for several days, the deep dark circles had returned under my eyes.
“It’s fine. Looking at you now, Director, anyone would suggest you take a nap first.”
“Haha… I guess so.”
“Yes. So please sleep. We have to drive for several more hours.”
T/N: So… Miles Jack = Michael Jackson?! What is this timeline aahhh
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