Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (5)

DJ Steve was a man who had clawed his way up from the absolute bottom to become a nationally syndicated radio jockey. True to his gritty origins, his wild, unfiltered, and relentless banter perfectly hit the sweet spot for a younger demographic craving sensational content. As his fame skyrocketed, Steve found himself forced to walk an increasingly precarious tightrope just to meet the public's expectations. After all, the higher-ups constantly demanded it.

Every time he heard that kind of talk from the PD, Steve's stomach churned. They'll just throw me to the wolves the second a real scandal breaks anyway. Besides, he wasn't stupid; he knew that the more he did these kinds of broadcasts, the worse his own reputation became. But he ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had no choice. At the end of the day, he was just a clown, gratefully pocketing the coins tossed down by the elites.

As the show's ratings soared and more stars lined up to appear, the intensity of his questions only escalated. Guests who had exchanged warm, smiling greetings at the start of the broadcast would leave looking like they were heading to a funeral by the end. And at some point, Steve simply grew numb to it. After all, "that was just Hollywood." You make money by selling the private lives of beautiful, talented people whom the public finds fascinating. Steve believed that was what he did best, and he acted accordingly.

Once a guest was booked, he would dig up everything he could on them. He arrived at the station with a game plan: how to steer the conversation, and exactly when to drop the hammer with a killer question. Today was no different. Since they hushed up his car accident, I was planning to completely strip Sion Lee's private life bare. But as he prepared to execute that plan, an inexplicable sense of foreboding washed over him.

To extract the kind of "trashy, scandalous answers" the public craved, certain conditions had to be met. First, an atmosphere that coaxed such answers out, and second, a slip of the tongue from the interviewee. By now, most celebrities knew how notorious the show was and arrived heavily guarded, but few could withstand Steve's silver tongue. His knack for rattling guests with rapid-fire questions and squeezing out confessions earned him a reputation—not just from his victims, but even from industry insiders—as an absolute demon.

As if they aren't the ones pulling the strings, he thought bitterly. Of course, he was no different, doing it all for the fat checks piling up in his bank account.

"I look forward to working with you," Sion said as he took his seat.

Looking at Sion's face, a flurry of thoughts crossed Steve's mind. As a famous radio DJ, Steve had met all walks of life. His ability to read gestures, vocal tones, eye contact, and facial expressions was top-tier. And looking at the youth before him, Steve felt that this Sion Lee... did not feel like an arrogant, self-absorbed eighteen-year-old brat at all.

No, don't overthink it before the mic is even hot. He probably just had a massive change of heart after that recent accident.

Shaking off his doubts, Steve flashed a broad grin. "Yeah, looking forward to it too, buddy! Don't be nervous~."

Soon, the commercial break ended, and the show's theme music swelled in his headphones. The ON AIR sign glowed a vibrant crimson. As the cue sign flashed through the talkback mic, DJ Steve launched into his intro.

"What's up, what's up, y'all! DJ Steve is back with Part 2 of the Fun Fire Freak Show!"

His aggressively obnoxious, high-energy tone was crucial for setting the show's chaotic mood. Guests would get swept up in his frantic energy, letting their guard down and raising their own tension, which inevitably led to those "entertaining" slips of the tongue.

"Today, we finally have the guest you've all been waiting for! The star of the movie you literally cannot escape right now! We have the lead of Deadly Summer Camp, Sion Lee, in the house! Welcome, man!"

"Hello! I'm Sion Lee. I'm very happy to be back after a while," Sion greeted, following the cue card perfectly.

"Oh, love it, love it! Great to have you! Man, it's been a minute, right? And look at you, even more handsome than before! I don't think this studio has ever looked this bright. So, how've you been? Are you feeling the massive hype of the movie?"

"I'm certainly feeling it, thanks to all the love from the audience. I'm also incredibly grateful for the opportunity to appear on such a wonderful show. I hope we can have a great conversation today, Steve."

"...?"

Hearing Sion's response, Steve's eyes widened. It was an incredibly polite, textbook answer. His diction was also flawlessly clear.

Wait, the Sion Lee I know would never say something like this.

Usually, he didn't wear any "mask" and just acted like a raw, petulant child. Was he high or drunk? No, he hadn't smelled or acted like it at all earlier. What the hell was going on? Masking his internal panic, Steve pressed on with his questions.

"Awesome, awesome! So, this time around, you surprisingly starred in a genre other than romance—a thriller, no less! Was there a specific reason or motivation that made you decide to jump into a completely different style of film?"

"The terms of the contract were exceptionally generous."

"Oho! Was the guarantee that juicy?"

Steve's eyes gleamed again. Seeing him naturally steer the conversation toward what the public wanted to know, the PD and staff watching from the control room leaned in. A Hollywood star's salary—now that was a topic guaranteed to turn heads. But Sion's next response was... shocking.

"Because I got to work with an amazing director, crew, and co-stars. Plus, they offered unlimited Coca-Cola. Thanks to that, I experimented with all kinds of recipes. I tried putting in a scoop of vanilla ice cream, drinking it flat, and even diluting it with water to make it lighter. Ah, that last one was absolutely terrible. Don't ever try it."

"...?"

It was still an impeccably "correct" answer. He had even added a dash of humor. In the control room, Oliver, the PD of the Fun Fire Freak Show, let out a dumbfounded laugh.

"Is that really the same kid who came last time? Did an alien skin-suit him or something?"

"Hmm, this is the exact opposite of what we expected. We were planning to completely strip him down today."

"Well, this isn't necessarily bad either," Oliver said, crossing his arms at the engineer's comment.

"People love to fill in the blanks with their own imagination. Even if his agency desperately tried to cover it up before, everyone already knows through the grapevine that Sion Lee is a total psycho. If a kid like that suddenly acts reformed, will they take it at face value? Or will they imagine there's something deeper going on?"

"True."

"If our show is the first to broadcast this polite side of him, it's actually better for us. Besides, there's no guarantee he can keep this act up. When you wear clothes that don't fit, the seams eventually start to show. Steve will handle it. He'll needle him gently and get the answers we want."

Smiling, the PD relaxed and watched the studio. However, Sion Lee's interview went in a completely different direction than anticipated.

"Yo, yo! Spill some tea for us. Anything juicy happen on set? Those photos of you and Elena at public events... man, there's some serious heat radiating between you two."

"Elena did a phenomenal job leading the film as the protagonist, Susan. Her acting was truly admirable. Despite her young age, there was so much to learn from her. I think I've made great friends with the other cast members too, to the point where I'd love to go on a summer camping trip together just like in the movie. Though, preferably somewhere without a serial killer."

"Oho! Did you perhaps learn... something else from her? Something a bit more private~?"

"Ah, most of our shooting was done outdoors, you see. So everyone had a pretty tough time. But thanks to that raw, realistic environment, we got some incredible shots. I'm sure that while watching, the audience will feel as though they're trapped in the forest right along with us."

Sion Lee smoothly deflected Steve's mischievous questions, using them as opportunities to promote the film instead.

In 1990, Hollywood stood at the absolute vanguard of global commercial entertainment. Every single movie released was effortlessly exported to all corners of the globe, and the merchandise associated with them flew off the shelves. Such was the sheer power of cinema. From branding, lifestyle, and fashion to narrative and the zeitgeist itself, people all over the world were influenced by Hollywood.

To survive as an actor in the heart of this industry required a dizzying array of factors: looks, acting ability, public relations, luck, networking, image, representation, and so much more. Having just one outstanding trait might let you shine for a brief moment, but with the endless stream of movies and actors flooding the market, anyone who couldn't sustain their momentum would quickly be left behind.

And according to industry insiders, the actor Sion Lee was precisely that kind of flash-in-the-pan. He possesses an overwhelming visual, but lacks in every other department. His acting was subpar, his public relations were non-existent, and his personal life was plagued by bad luck. Consequently, his professional relationships were a disaster, and he wasn't signed with a major agency capable of cleaning up his messes. Frankly, even if he were with a major agency, they wouldn't have excelled at micromanaging him. To them, an actor was merely a product. A teen idol, but nothing more—an actor ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠destined to fade away once he reached adulthood. His behavior on set had been so atrocious that audition offers had dried up completely...

"Man, Sion Lee. It's like he met Jesus during that car crash."

While he was carrying out the promotional schedule for Deadly Summer Camp, that narrative slowly began to shift. Starting with the testimony of DJ Steve, the host of the Fun Fire Freak Show, everyone who encountered him at fan signings, special screenings, and media interviews was left utterly dumbfounded.

"...What on earth happened to him?"

"I've never seen him smile while signing autographs for fans, let alone go the entire day without throwing a single tantrum."

"He was actually worrying about us and asking if we were okay! Ahhh...! It gave ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me goosebumps!"

"Why would that give you goosebumps?"

"Because he's so ridiculously handsome, and now that he's acting like an angel, he doesn't even seem human! It's like... like a demon sent to seduce women!"

"An incubator?"

"No, an incubus!"

Amidst such absurd, backhanded compliments, about a month passed. While the movie was in theaters, Sion completed his schedule without causing a single stir. And soon, the rewards of his efforts began to manifest.

"...Yi-siony."

The cramped, dusty office was a space Charlie Kang had rented solely because he believed it was best to work in the most auspicious location in Hollywood. It was based on Feng Shui—or pungsu-jiri, as it was known in his ancestral homeland—and perhaps thanks to that, the agency had been steadily growing in its own way. Though lately, his biggest worry had been the sharp decline in offers coming in for Sion...

"You got an audition offer."

"...An audition?"

Sion, who had been looking around the familiar yet nostalgic office with curiosity, turned to ask.

"Yeah. They're romance movies slated for production next year—three of them in total. They're looking for male leads and second leads. If you're interested, why don't you prepare for one of them?"

Though he spoke with a casual, almost indifferent shrug, a wild celebration was throwing down in Charlie Kang's mind. Yes! How long has it been since we got an actual audition offer?!

In Hollywood, highly sought-after actors never sold themselves short. Did Louis Vuitton or Chanel do door-to-door sales? No. They usually waited for offers from production companies before deciding to audition. After hitting the jackpot with his debut film, Sion Lee had briefly joined those ranks. But despite that initial success, his recent string of disasters had quietly branded him as a high-risk actor whom production companies preferred to avoid.

"Maybe it's because you showed such a great attitude during the promotions this time. Things are finally falling into place."

"..."

"Well, I guess everyone still needs that gorgeous face of yours. Isn't that a great sign?"

Charlie quickly added, wrapping his words in a joke as he noticed Sion's expression turn serious. In front of his agent, who was reading his cues as quickly as Pavlov's dog, Sion was actually grappling with a completely different dilemma.

In the end, it'll just be more of the same.

Not that it was a bad thing. After all, being offered lead roles in Hollywood—the pinnacle of commercial entertainment—meant he still possessed market value. However, ever since regressing to this era, Sion had spent his time managing his schedule while meticulously calculating how to build his future career.

The first love of teenage girls, the dashing male lead of a romance film. That was certainly a wonderful thing. He could be someone's dream. But he knew that if he only starred in those kinds of movies, he would eventually be consumed and discarded by the Hollywood system, pigeonholed into an image defined by others—just like in his past life. The current Sion wanted to break free from that cycle. And so, he spoke.

"Charlie, I'd like to take some time off."

"Huh...? Time off?"

"I've been running flat out for a while now, but after the accident, it got me thinking. Maybe I've just been rushing forward without looking where I was going."

"..."

"I've been given some great opportunities this time, but if I don't rest now, I feel like I won't get another chance to breathe."

"...Alright, I'm sure you have your reasons."

Since Charlie understood Sion's personal circumstances all too well, he didn't hesitate for long. "Then I'll handle the current offers and politely put them on hold for now. How much time do you need?"

"I don't know, maybe about half a year?"

"What? That long?"

"I want to visit my hometown."

"...Chicago? It's almost winter. The temperature swings there are brutal. I thought you'd want to go to a resort like Hawaii."

"Maybe later. Right now, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I want to revisit some good old memories."

Far away from California, in that very city, an indie film completely detached from the Hollywood studio system was currently in production.