The Golden Raspberries
When Sion Lee suddenly announced he was returning to Los Angeles, Charlie Kang's reaction was simple: Why?
Even though his actor was returning to his main base of operations, Charlie had a good reason for reacting that way.
“I’m going to attend the Golden Raspberry Awards.”
It was because he had vaguely anticipated some kind of reckless stunt like this. Feeling his stomach churn, Charlie managed to squeeze out a reply.
“Why?”
“So, just RSVP for me, okay?”
“Why?!”
“See you tomorrow, then~”
With that, the line went dead.
Charlie Kang was plunged into deep confusion. Ever since the filming of Swing in Chicago, he had genuinely wanted to believe in Sion Lee as an actor. As a Korean-American who valued family ties above all else, he understood the immense stress Sion—who was like a younger brother to him—must have been under. He had resolved to respect Sion's choices as much as possible and keep working with him.
Right, the most important thing is that he actually wants to act now.
That was why, even when sponsors protested after Sion completely shattered his carefully built "teen heartthrob" image in an indie film, Charlie had stood his ground. He fought back with a flimsy piece of logic: “Well, it’s getting people talking, isn’t that a good thing?”
And when Sion showed up on the red carpet looking incredibly sharp after losing all that weight, Charlie had felt utterly vindicated.
Look at him! He’s still gorgeous outside of the movie!
On top of that, the sudden indie film and the acting prowess Sion displayed in it... to be honest, it was like an entirely unexpected gift. The Sion he remembered was a mere show businessman who viewed filming as nothing more than a "job," putting in just enough effort to get by and build up his public profile. For that Sion Lee to receive such rave reviews from the press for his acting!
The buzz had gone viral, and Swing in Chicago was already generating massive anticipation even before its official release. With only about two weeks left until the premiere, it was time for Sion to wrap up his hiatus and throw himself into promoting the film...
And in a situation like this, his first public schedule is attending the Golden Raspberry Awards?
What on earth was the point of going to a joke of an awards show that wasn't even a real ceremony?
"Who says there's no point?"
That was the first thing Sion Lee said to Charlie when he returned to Los Angeles, responding to the agent's nagging as if he were a wife scolding a husband who had fallen into a bizarre gambling habit.
"No, seriously, what is the point?!"
Charlie simply could not fathom what benefit could possibly come from attending that ceremony.
Sitting in the passenger seat of the car Charlie was driving, wearing sunglasses, Sion spoke calmly. "This will be my third win, and likely my last. Don't you think it's only polite to show up at least once?"
"If some random redneck in Texas invited you to receive some bullshit award, would you go? You even turned down the Academy when they invited you this year! How can you say you're going to the Golden Raspberries instead?!"
"That's a massive leap in logic, Charlie. The Golden Raspberries actually get a decent amount of attention. Especially among cinephiles, who are the primary target audience for our movie coming out in April."
"Which makes it completely useless! Do you really think the general public cares about a show meant for nerds who sit on their couches watching movies all day? At best, a few newspapers publish the nominations and the results, and that's it."
"That's exactly why it's perfect. If the event is too big, I'll get buried."
Charlie Kang pondered the meaning of Sion's words for a moment. Immediately after, his narrow eyes widened to their absolute limit.
"Oh, Charlie. Truck ahead."
Screeech!
"C-Crazy bastard! I almost hit it!"
"I wonder which timeline I would have regressed to if we did..."
"What is that supposed to mean?!"
"Nothing. Just thinking about Back to the Future."
"What do you mean, nothing?!"
With his heart pounding and blood rushing to his brain, a huffing Charlie suddenly had a look of realization dawn on his face.
"W-Wait! Are you aiming for that? You're going to attend so that the Golden Raspberries inevitably becomes a massive hot topic?"
"Spot on, Charlie. Ten points to Gryffindor."
"Gryffindor? What, is that some club you're going to get kicked out of in three days?"
"Ah, it's not time for that yet. Man, I really want to watch Back to the Future."
Sion chuckled leisurely.
"Until now, no winner has ever actually attended this ceremony. But what if I'm the first to break that seal? What if a three-time consecutive winner, a master of terrible acting and a regular nominee for every Golden Raspberry category, goes there and calmly accepts the results right before his big acting transformation movie premieres?"
"...You're insane."
"Charlie, can you leak the rumor beforehand? Just a little bit."
"Are you... seriously out of your mind?"
"I've always been the most sane among the insane."
"Don't you remember your second win? You threw a tantrum at a reporter who came to interview you on set and flipped them off. That photo was plastered all over the tabloids! The movie was a romance about a pure boy's love, so fans and haters literally fought in front of the theaters. And now you want to go all the way there just to draw attention?"
"I... don't really remember that."
"Do you have alcoholic dementia? Should we go to a hospital?"
Seeing Charlie ranting like an angry rapper before suddenly switching to a look of genuine concern, Sion quickly turned his gaze out the window.
At any rate, he was back. Back in warm California.
The Golden Raspberry Awards, celebrating its 11th year, was, to put it bluntly, a parody event. It was born from a joke shared among friends gathered on a couch to watch the Academy Awards—which honored the best films of the year—who thought, “Hey, why don't we give awards to the worst films of the year too?”
Thanks to its black comedy nature, which perfectly suited American tastes, the event had endured over the years, building up its own tradition and growing far larger than expected. Yet, it still retained a distinctly amateurish vibe. And it would likely stay that way forever.
The organizers' stance on their current situation was: “There's no way an authoritarian Hollywood would ever acknowledge us.”
Indeed, it was customary for Hollywood industry insiders to keep their mouths shut and ignore the Golden Raspberries entirely. Yet, even in the face of such cold shoulders, the Razzies had soldiered on.
Of course, the Golden Raspberries had its fair share of critics. It was only natural, given that the event was built on mockery and satire as much as it was on a twisted form of respect for the industry. However, the founders, Johnson and Murphy, took immense pride in the Razzies despite the mixed reception. It was a sort of “If we don’t do it, who will?” mentality.
But that status quo... slowly began to shatter as a week flew by in the blink of an eye.
The moment Sion Lee confirmed his attendance, a deluge of press inquiries and RSVP requests flooded in from all kinds of media outlets. Previously, even if they sent invitations to media outlets, the press would ignore the event itself and merely publish the results in a tiny corner of their papers. Now, countless reporters were scrambling to get in touch.
What on earth is happening?
Damn it, this is crazy. At this rate, the convention hall...
Based on the scale of previous years, they had rented a 100-seat convention hall. But the sheer number of people wanting to attend in person far exceeded that capacity. Lacking any crisis management skills for a situation like this, Johnson and Murphy spent the week unable to sleep a wink.
Finally, March 24, 1991 arrived. The day of the Golden Raspberry Awards, held the day before the Oscars.
The Roosevelt Hotel in Hollywood was in absolute chaos.
"...At this rate, there might be an accident," the hotel concierge carefully whispered to Johnson in front of the convention hall. Johnson was speechless.
Even before the doors opened, the invited press and regular attendees were tangled together in a buzzing crowd. It looked like a scene straight out of a movie.
"People have gathered all the way to the back of the hotel. For now, we've set up temporary barricades to prevent any trouble for those entering. Is there anything else you might need?"
"N-No, we're fine. We'll make sure to keep things under control."
He talked a big game, but with only five staff members on the organizing committee, including Johnson himself, even that was a monumental task. To make matters worse, one of them had already been designated as Sion Lee's personal escort.
"Johnson!"
Murphy ran over with a panicked expression. Johnson immediately asked the question that had been weighing on his mind.
"W-What about Sion Lee?"
"...His agency said he'll arrive right on schedule." Murphy, looking as if he had just heard news of an impending war, continued. "And... they said he's going to get dropped off right at the front entrance."
"Is he insane?! Go wait for him and guide him to the underground parking lot immediately!"
"We can't! Quick-witted fans have already taken over that area anyway!"
"Damn it! Wait at the hotel entrance and grab him the moment he arrives! Send him straight to the waiting room! If that guy gets off right in front, the fans will swarm him and it'll be absolute madness!"
"O-Okay!"
Murphy dashed off, looking like a man charged with being the last line of defense against the apocalypse.
Johnson turned his attention back to controlling the crowd.
"Everyone, please stay behind the photo line! Members of the press! Please do not fight before the event even starts!"
Stepping onto a platform, he practically screamed at the top of his lungs. But countless reporters were already in a frenzy, fighting for the best spots.
"Hey, move! I was here first!"
"Ha! If this were Texas, I would've shot you by now. Is this your private property?"
"I said, stop fighting...! Hey! What are you doing? Break them up!"
Screaming at the top of his lungs, Johnson felt his blood pressure spike, making his head spin. It felt like all their past karma was catching up to them.
Over the years, the Golden Raspberries had relentlessly mocked Sion Lee. His name and the projects he starred in were nominated every single year for Worst Picture, Worst Actor, and various other categories. Even among other prominent figures, Sion Lee held his ground, possessing a unique competitive edge and star power within the Razzies. Yes, even when his acting was atrocious, he was undeniably a superstar in more ways than one.
But at this very moment, Johnson deeply regretted the past. He regretted the days he had used Sion Lee as a laughingstock to entertain the masses...
Especially since recently, he's become the 'real deal.'
And in a completely different way than before.
The immense interest in his upcoming film, Swing in Chicago, where he reportedly underwent a massive acting transformation, was directly colliding with this moment of karmic retribution.
To make matters even more historic, this would be the first time in the history of the awards that an actor would show up in person to accept their trophy.
The chaos of the dense crowd and the roaring voices of the people swelled like a balloon about to burst. A moment everyone had dreamed of but deemed impossible was about to unfold. Standing before it, Johnson felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness, completely unable to control the situation.
At the same time, outside the hotel's first-floor entrance.
The area behind the barricades set up by the hotel was packed with Sion Lee's fans and reporters desperate to snap a photo. The air was thick with anticipation as everyone eagerly awaited the arrival of one man. Murphy could instinctively feel that the moment it happened, this overheated atmosphere would explode.
W-What should I do?
He had to keep an eye out for the car Sion Lee was likely riding in, run out to stop it, and beg them to go to the basement.
But will Sion Lee even listen to me?
That was the real problem.
This wasn't just any famous Hollywood hotel; it was a historic and culturally significant landmark that had hosted the very first Academy Awards. Most of the arriving vehicles were luxury sedans or sports cars. Every time someone stepped out of a car, the crowd watched with bated breath, only to let out sighs of disappointment.
After several such false alarms, a sleek black sedan pulled up smoothly in front of the hotel.
Murphy, whose nerves were stretched to their limit, felt the hair on his arms stand up as he stared at the tinted windows. It was the car he had been told to look out for over the phone.
Sion was inside that car.
"Wait...!"
Murphy blindly rushed forward and grabbed the rear door just as it was about to open.
"W-What are you doing?"
"I just need to check! I'm the organizer for today's event in the convention hall!"
As Murphy desperately pleaded with the bewildered doorman, the window rolled down slightly. Along with the rich, distinct scent of Creed cologne, a familiar voice drifted out.
"Is there a problem?"
"M-Mr. Lee! I'm so sorry, but could we please ask you to enter through the basement?"
"...Why?"
"There are just too many people right now. We're worried it might cause a major safety hazard."
"Oh?"
Despite Murphy's frantic tone, Sion responded with absolute composure. Then, he let out a soft, amused chuckle.
"My, my. You practically begged me to come, and yet you didn't even prepare for this?"
"W-We deeply apologize for that."
"It's fine. I'm getting out, so please step back."
"Excuse me...?"
"I can't disappoint the fans who waited so long for me."
Faced with Sion's firm tone, Murphy couldn't bring himself to protest any further.
Y-You arrogant brat...!
He could only swallow his rising anger at having his earnest request so casually brushed aside.
Meanwhile, inside the car, Sion smiled at Charlie in the driver's seat.
"I'm heading in, Charlie."
"Go get 'em. Tear the place up."
An act that many had imagined, but none had ever dared to execute.
Becoming the first winner in the eleven-year history of the Golden Raspberry Awards to accept the trophy in person, Sion adjusted the lapels of his jacket and stepped out of the car.
Immediately, a colossal wave of cheers and screams crashed over him.
The sheer volume instantly eclipsed the decibel levels of a rock concert.
"I love you, Sion!"
"You're so handsome...! Look over here, please!"
Today, Sion was dressed in a sleek black suit. His dirty blonde hair was neatly slicked back with pomade. As he flashed a brilliant smile and waved to his fans, a relentless barrage of camera flashes erupted. Reporters scrambled to capture this historic moment of Sion Lee, while fans screamed and reached out their hands.
Sion milked the photo op until the very last second before shouting back to the crowd.
"I love you guys! Thank you so much, always!!"
At those words, numerous industry insiders stood frozen in sheer disbelief.
Sion Lee... saying "love"?
Sion Lee... saying "thank you"?
These were combinations of words that absolutely did not belong in his vocabulary. Yet, that was precisely why it was so electrifying. The frenzied atmosphere of show business acted like an emulsifier, blending every conflicting emotion into a single, intoxicating mix.
Leaving the screaming fans behind, Sion walked into the hotel where the ceremony was being held.
"See? Nothing bad happened, right?"
When he finally spoke to Murphy, who was trailing behind him, the organizer replied with a face that looked as if his soul had left his body.
"Y-Yes... thankfully."
"I told you. If you're that faint-hearted, how do you expect to survive in Hollywood?"
Sion gave Murphy's shoulder a playful pat and stepped further inside.
Perhaps due to the crowd control, the lobby was relatively quiet and uncrowded, but Sion could feel everyone watching him with deeply uncomfortable stares. After all, it was an undeniable fact that by attending this ceremony, he was pulling off yet another unprecedented, mind-boggling stunt.
But now, Sion simply enjoyed those stares as he stepped into the elevator.
I'm going to deliver a killer acceptance speech. Perfect for promoting the movie.
As Sion let out a fierce, determined grin with that thought in mind, Murphy could only stare at him with a look of pure terror.