The 100 Million Dollars Club (1)
Fragments of You ends with Elliot, having attained a sense of enlightenment, returning home. A home that had once symbolized darkness and emptiness. In the early morning, he draws back the window curtains, takes Noah's photograph out of a box, and places it on the table. As he gazes at the rising sun, a smile spreads across his face beneath eyes still glistening with tears. It is too early for his tears to dry, but he smiles as he cherishes the memories to face tomorrow. Elliot was saved by the Noah who lived on in his memories.
...While it wasn't quite as poetic, Sion also made it a habit to draw the curtains whenever he woke up in the morning. Today, on New Year's Day, was no exception. It was the day after he had unexpectedly spent the end of the year at the Asimov residence upon their invitation. Sion let out a long yawn and looked out the window. The sun was already high in the sky, and he had a schedule to resume starting today. It was a sort of annual ritual—a talk show appearance, arranged through a fantastic collaboration between the production company and the broadcaster whenever he starred in a movie. Sion sat in front of the vanity he had bought for his mother and checked his face in the mirror.
I should get ready quickly... I'll stick to just water today. He had a slight hangover and wanted to eat something, but remembering how much he had overeaten the night before, he decided to hold back. A young body under twenty didn't show immediate reactions like a bloated face or indigestion just from one heavy dinner, but due to habits carried over from his past life, Sion meticulously calculated his daily food intake. Originally, he had to do this to manage an aging body plagued by adult diseases, but after returning as an actor, he poured even more effort into health management to work as a true "professional."
...Though as a side effect, he had developed a habit of squirting a mouthful of whipped cream spray whenever he had a long break in his schedule.
Perfect. His jawline was sharp, and his cheeks were slightly hollow. For someone who had drunk heavily the night before, he didn't look bad at all today. It was just his constitution. Whenever he drank, it was as if the moisture drained from his face, leaving behind a deeper, cool decadence rather than any obvious signs of drinking. He figured he could go just like this. I'll be getting makeup anyway. Sion went down to the first floor and showered. As he came out to the living room, shaking his hair dry, a cute chime rang. When he opened the front door, Charlie Kang was standing there, just as expected. Leading him inside, Sion tilted his head at Charlie, who was carrying something that didn't match his blue suit at all.
"What's that?"
"Yi-siony... Have you eaten?"
"No."
Just before he could add, And I don't plan to today...
"I brought you some kimchi stew made with kimchi flown straight from Korea!"
At Charlie's shout, Sion's face instantly turned pale. Thanks to Charlie, he had become quite accustomed to things representing "Korea," one of his roots, but "kimchi soup" was one culinary culture he simply couldn't get used to. As Charlie grinned and untied a mysterious, silky oriental cloth—a bojagi—a pot revealed itself from within.
"Man... the kimchi fermented perfectly on its way to America! This broth is so refreshing! After all, Koreans run on rice! You have an important talk show appearance tonight, so let's eat up and get energized!"
"Okay, okay, I get it. I'll renew my contract with you. So please..."
"Oh, that's great news! Kimchi stew never fails! The power of Koreans! Try it, try it!"
Sion stopped thinking. Kimchi stew. It was fine and all, but the overwhelming aroma of garlic and chili pepper unique to the dish was a struggle. Even if it tasted decent once he actually ate it, the initial hurdle was never pleasant. Oblivious to Sion's inner turmoil, Charlie Kang beamed with pride in the great Korean culture. In the end, Sion, whose face had been slightly stiff, let out a chuckle. In this house where he lived alone without parents, where a bag of peanuts—and whipped cream—was usually all there was, the savory aroma of kimchi stew began to drift through the air. In front of his first guest of the New Year, Sion was swept up in an unfamiliar, warm emotion. Ultimately, contrary to his initial resolution, he had no choice but to sit down for breakfast.
Charlie even threw on an apron and began preparing the meal for Sion. It was a cozy, warm atmosphere that didn't fit a typical agency CEO at all. This was precisely one of the greatest strengths of CK Agency.
"Come on, sit, sit. I'll heat everything up and set the table. Want some fried eggs too?"
"...Sure. Whatever that is."
A moment later, alongside the basic setup of rice and soup, a magnificent plate of sunny-side-up eggs was served.
"Now, mix the runny yolk with the kimchi stew like this..."
"...Huh?"
Has my palate changed? It was surprisingly delicious. On top of that...
"Oh..."
His stomach, which had been frozen like the cold Russian tundra due to the vodka, seemed to melt away under the influence of Korean "Kimchi power." By then, he had adjusted to the once-bothersome smell, and Sion's eyes sparkled as he began devouring the white rice. Charlie watched him with a fatherly smile, thinking, Kid. I was worried he'd be depressed spending the end of the year alone. After all, wasn't last year the year his mother passed away? He had worried that the holiday season, spent alone for the first time, would be too harsh for a teenage boy. But seeing Sion behave exactly as he always did was a massive relief. For some reason, Charlie felt a swell of emotion. Grinning, he rolled up his sleeves again.
"I'll grill some Spam for you too. Just wait a second."
"Sp... Spam?"
Pressed ham made by roughly mashing cheap meat. Due to prejudices stemming from past wartime history, Americans perceived Spam as a food eaten only by the poor when they were starving. Having the sensibilities of a typical American, Sion couldn't help but hesitate. However, when he placed a piece of grilled Spam on top of his rice and took a bite as Charlie instructed, his eyes widened in sheer shock.
Was Spam always this delicious? It was a feast of K-food that he, despite being a regressor, hadn't known much about in his past life. Before his death, he had been a washed-up actor and a familyless middle-aged man, so he rarely had the chance to encounter such culture. Alternating with spoonfuls of "Kimchi soup," Sion quickly polished off a bowl of rice with the eggs and Spam. Sitting across the table, Charlie watched Sion enjoy his late lunch of Korean food with a pleased expression and asked, "How did you spend yesterday? Were you alone?"
"No. I went to Elena's house."
"...Huh?"
Charlie's face instantly twisted in shock. "Are... are you getting married?!"
"...How did the conversation jump to that?"
"Then why on earth did you go to her house?!"
"I wonder."
Sion put down his spoon and chuckled. Even to himself, it was a strange situation. Going to the house of his co-star to spend the end of the year together. The family that invited him was certainly out of the ordinary, and he was odd for accepting it too. But that was only how it looked on the outside; from the moment he was invited, Sion had anticipated that there would be something business-related involved.
"Olga Asimov suggested we do a project together."
"What? The Olga Asimov? What kind of project?"
Charlie's eyes went wide. Olga Asimov. She was one of the few legendary actresses active in Hollywood, on par with Meryl Streep, Sigourney Weaver, and Susan Sarandon, whom production companies trusted enough to send scripts to first. She was also a giant who had transitioned to television and built an empire during a time when discrimination against Russian-Americans was severe. A project proposal from someone like her was, of course...
"She wants me to do a sitcom."
"...A sitcom?"
Sitcom. Short for "situation comedy," it referred to a television series with a lighthearted atmosphere that maximized comedic effect. Most were filmed on a set, usually followed a seasonal format, and featured a live studio audience. Above all, it was currently the most popular format on American television.
Of course it is. This is an era where everyone is glued to their TVs. In the 1990s, before the internet and smartphones became ubiquitous, it couldn't be helped. Whenever you turned on the screen, you could watch sports, variety shows, dramas, and movies to your heart's content. There was nothing better to color a dull daily routine. Since legendary sitcoms like Friends were slated to appear in the near future, it was an incredibly intriguing offer. Besides...
"Y-you don't mean The College Player, do you?"
"Yeah, that's the one. She said she'd send a formal proposal later."
"Holy crap... That's a massive deal. That's broadcast on NBC."
Charlie, initially flustered, smiled with intrigue as he listened to Sion. "The Season 2 finale had a rating of around 12.2%. That's practically national sitcom territory. And she wants to cast you as a new regular?"
"Just for one season."
"That's still huge! It means you'll be treated as a series regular for an entire season! Plus, they say Olga Asimov rules that set like a queen, and she personally cast you! ...First Jack Nicholson, and now her. Why do these legendary actors love you so much?"
"Because I'm handsome?"
Brushing it off with a light joke, Charlie chuckled and said, "I was actually going to ask you to reconsider another offer."
"Another offer?"
"You've been flooded with movie offers. Among them, there's a massive project that really wants to cast you. What was the title again... Something about dinosaurs."
Hearing those words, Sion's body flinched. Unable to hide his rising excitement, he asked, "Don't tell me... Jurassic Park?"
"Ah, yes. That's it. They're adapting a novel into a movie, right? I heard it's going to be a huge release next year, and they sent an audition offer for a supporting role."
"..." Sion fell silent for a moment before replying with difficulty. "Politely decline that one."
"They're investing a fortune into it, you know? Whatever the role is, combined with your recent track record, it's a prime opportunity to skyrocket your market value."
"I have my reasons."
"What reasons? Come on, why not at least audition?"
"I'm afraid of dinosaurs. ...Oh, but make sure to ask if they have any minor roles available."
"...You're declining because you're afraid of dinosaurs, but you want a minor role?"
"Yeah. I think I'd do a great job playing someone who gets crunched head-first."
Even as he joked, Sion felt a slight pang of regret. Since it couldn't possibly be from the "Kimchi soup," he decided to blame it on his hangover.
Tsk. What a waste. On the way to the studio after finishing lunch, Sion stared out the window into the bright sunlight, a bittersweet smile playing on his lips while Charlie hummed a Korean song next to him in the heavy traffic. I felt the same way when I watched Terminator 2 last year. At times like this, knowing the future was almost a curse.
But well, it can't be helped. He could always use that knowledge to gain massive, unexpected benefits in other areas—like stocks, which had nothing to do with acting. In any case, it was bound to be the exact Jurassic Park he knew. Released in June 1993, it was a legendary sci-fi film that would sweep not only America but the entire world. In the long history of the film industry, it was a monumental turning point in terms of visual effects. The landmark first film would break records to become the highest-grossing film of all time upon release, laying the foundation for a massive franchise that would remain in the top ten highest-grossing franchises even in the distant future.
Sion was currently an actor who had "just taken his first steps as an adult actor." To survive in this industry, he had to choose his projects wisely and maintain a stellar reputation both on and off the screen. Therefore, securing a major role in a guaranteed blockbuster like Jurassic Park would undoubtedly yield incredible results for him. But even putting those practical reasons aside, simply appearing in such a monumental film was an immense honor for any actor. Back when his face had been ruined, he vividly remembered watching Jurassic Park and marveling, How on earth did they make a movie like this back then?
Yet, despite knowing the future, Sion declined. He didn't want to rush into a project solely because it was guaranteed to be a hit. He wanted to deliver his absolute best performances as an actor living and breathing in this era, using that to build a network centered around himself.
...Still, if I hadn't received a concrete offer from Olga, I probably would have tried out for that audition. If a suitable opportunity arose at the right time while he was steadily building his filmography, he wouldn't refuse it, but the timing just wasn't right this time. It's too late to back out on Olga, and double-booking is a bad idea. Sion was still a teenager, and his previous two films had given him confidence in his abilities. He believed that if he kept walking his path step by step, focusing on what he did best, he would eventually land a project of that caliber and reach the Academy Awards.
Yes. Whether it's Terminator 2 or Jurassic Park, I can do it. Therefore, rather than blindly chasing future hits, what truly mattered was steadily earning the industry's trust and building connections as an actor living in the present. Keeping my balance like this is crucial for my own sake.
"...Charlie."
"Yeah?"
"Don't forget what I said earlier. Make sure to ask if there's a minor role or a cameo for a young, handsome guy."
"Got it. Since it's a blockbuster, they'll need plenty of extra bodies anyway. I'll pitch that instead of the supporting role."
...Though he couldn't help but want to dip his toes in, even in a small way, just to share a sliver of that historic glory.
"So, do you plan to do the sitcom?"
"For now, yes. I did give her a positive response."
"Well, you still hate double-booking as much as ever."
While he would accept it if absolutely necessary, it was an option he preferred to avoid for the sake of his performance's quality. "So the sitcom will have to wait until after I focus on the promotional activities for this film."
"Right, that's important too." Charlie grinned and looked out the car window. The streets of Hollywood in the New Year. Posters for Fragments of You were plastered everywhere. Sion and Elena were shown embracing under bright sunlight, surrounded by scattering digital polygons that perfectly captured the blend of sci-fi and romance.
"The box office numbers are climbing at a crazy speed. And the audience demographic is a bit different from what we expected."
"Really? How so?"
"The target demographic was originally teenagers and young adults in their twenties, but surprisingly, a lot of middle-aged people in their thirties and forties are coming to watch it. On TV, they interviewed this burly biker guy who was sobbing, saying the movie made him remember his lost love. It went viral, so they've been broadcasting it over and over."
"...Is that so?" Sion raised an eyebrow. The primary audience for romance films was naturally women, largely due to the narrative structure focusing on "relationships" rather than "events." Otherwise, it was couples who had just started dating, looking to spark some romance. Thus, conversely, the tears of an unlikely demographic like a "biker guy" held immense appeal.
This is quite interesting. Though it was just a passing remark, Sion began to ponder it seriously. Meanwhile, the sedan driven by Charlie arrived at Paramount Studios, today's filming location. After passing through security, the two drove straight inside. Then, Sion spotted something unusual.
"Those people... are they today's studio audience?"
"...It looks like it. This is the exact opposite of what I expected."
People who had secured tickets for today's talk show were filing out. And a significant portion—no, the vast majority—were older men. They ranged from their twenties to their fifties. The female fans who hadn't managed to get tickets stood anxiously among them, looking somewhat pitiful. Watching this scene, Sion thought:
Maybe I can pull off something fun on today's broadcast. A "male" audience showing up for a talk show featuring Sion Lee, who used to be the public enemy of all men. Sion, who had a rough idea of what was causing this, let a smile spread across his lips.
"Charlie."
"Yeah? Want me to grab you a coffee?"
"...The benchmark for a massive hit in the romance genre is a hundred million dollars, right?"
"Yeah, why?"
Hearing Charlie's answer, a small goal formed in Sion's mind. A goal called one hundred million dollars.