Never Say Never, Part 3

"..."

Somewhere by a lake at Neverland Ranch.

Michael Jackson, who had been seeking musical inspiration in solitary contemplation, could not hide his bewilderment as he read the newspaper clipping brought to him by a house servant.

He had personally requested regular updates on Sion Lee, and indeed they kept coming, but when this kind of news arrived, even he found it hard to process at first.

To him, it was an incredibly unconventional act.

"Pfft... ahaha..."

Michael couldn't help but burst into laughter.

Paparazzi. The bane of every Hollywood celebrity's existence.

Watching Sion Lee play with them so thoroughly in his own unique way gave him a profound sense of... vicarious satisfaction.

I'm glad you're doing well, my friend.

Michael smiled warmly, gazing at the cheerfully laughing Sion in the photograph.

The King of Pop, who had recently finished his tour and was peacefully immersing himself in his music without any major incidents, felt his day grow significantly brighter thanks to Sion Lee.

Fleeing after snatching a paparazzi's camera.

This sudden, bizarre news about Sion Lee threw the United States into a state of collective amusement and bewilderment.

"Wow, he really did become a villain."

"A leopard can't change its spots. I knew this punk would cause trouble again."

"It's the exact opposite, actually! But man, this is hilarious. lol, running off with a paparazzi's camera?"

And people were far more amused than expected.

"If it's a paparazzi, he totally had it coming!"

"Seriously, they stalk him twenty-four hours a day taking photos! For Sion Lee, this is actually pretty tame!"

"Didn't he use to smash them on the ground back in the day?"

"Whatever. Sion is smiling in the photo, so that's good enough for me."

It helped that the paparazzi already had a terrible public image, and the reports added that Sion had ended the encounter on a lighthearted note by buying the man a hamburger.

...Though in reality, as Sion handed over the burger, he had muttered, "If I catch you taking photos of me again, you're getting beaten with a hamburger, got it?"

Thus, Sion was once again the talk of Hollywood, keeping things as lively as ever.

And it was only natural that this story eventually reached a certain family enjoying a peaceful, yet chilly, dinner in their Bel-Air mansion.

"What do you think?"

At her mother's question, the daughter, who had been quietly eating, replied.

"It's absurd."

"Elaborate."

"I don't see why he needs to feed the paparazzi. The more you feed them, the wilder they get. They cleverly exploit legal gray areas... It's best to just ignore them."

"They certainly are like flies. Oh, dear, perhaps this isn't appropriate dinner conversation?"

Olga Asimov winked playfully and continued.

"Or should we compare them to bees? It's best to leave them alone from a distance, and poking them might get you stung. Oh, and they gather where they smell honey. Yes, that's a rather fitting analogy."

"Then that proves my point even more. You might get stung for nothing, so why cause unnecessary trouble?"

"True. That is the conventional wisdom. But whether we stay still or actively provoke them, the bees will eventually take honey from the flowers that we are. All we can do... is decide what we intend to achieve in that inevitable process."

"I don't think you can manipulate people like that."

"But Sion is doing exactly that, isn't he?"

It was true.

In Hollywood, excluding Charlie Kang, this mother and daughter were the ones who understood the actor Sion Lee's true intentions best.

That was why they never believed for a second that he had snatched the camera out of simple anger.

One felt worry, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠while the other felt intrigue—that was the only difference.

In any case, Sion's camera heist became an instant viral sensation.

Because it was such a simple, silly incident, it didn't make the television news, but radio stations had a field day with it.

It was a remarkably simple piece of news, yet it spread across the nation with surprising momentum, a testament to the influence of the man who created it.

Satisfying. Crazy. Classic Sion.

While various reactions poured in from all corners, the man of the hour himself had this to say:

"Everything went exactly as planned."

"...What exactly went as planned?"

Charlie Kang, sitting across from him, let out a long sigh. He looked several years older than he had just a few days ago.

"Do you have any idea how anxious I was that this would cause trouble?!"

"Like what? Theft?"

"Yes!"

"How is snatching a paparazzi's camera and running off theft? It was a unique situation. And I gave it back anyway. Along with a hamburger."

"If they decided to make a fuss, a problem would've appeared out of thin air!"

"But it didn't, did it?"

"Sion Lee... please, spare my life..."

"Anyway, it's interesting. It feels like I've realized once again what people want from me."

Ultimately, people wanted Sion Lee to act like a 'brat.'

They wanted a twenty-two-year-old star who felt within arm's reach, causing delightful trouble.

It was a contradictory yet deeply human desire—wanting an overwhelming superstar while simultaneously wanting them to be down-to-earth. To Sion, who possessed the soul of a sly, middle-aged man, this psychology was perfectly clear.

"That's why such a minor incident went so viral. I'm sure I'm not the first person to run off with a paparazzi's camera, yet look at this reaction. Isn't human psychology fascinating?"

"True. Good grief, the very people who used to curse you out when you acted like a brat..."

"There's a certain pleasure in hate-watching. Back then, I was criticized because I wasn't dedicated to my craft as an actor and strutted around like I was hot stuff. Honestly, isn't that true?"

"Yeah. When you got your first lead role and suddenly announced at a party, 'I am the future Al Pacino,' my stomach burned. I spent almost all my savings back then trying to bury that article."

"............Anyway, moving on."

Unable to bear the cringe of his past self, Sion quickly changed the subject.

"So, how did it go?"

"Your conditions were so strict that it was tough in many ways."

Charlie handed over a stack of organized documents. Sion began reviewing the list of projects one by one. Every single one of them was a romantic comedy.

"Can start shooting as soon as possible, comedy-focused, and doesn't mind ruining your image. Wants a funny, relatable role rather than a handsome one. Who would cast you in that right now? I doubt anyone would even think of trying to make someone with your face look funny."

"And yet, you found some good ones."

"Mwahaha! Don't underestimate Charlie Kang!"

Sion only smirked at Charlie's boasting and began pointing at the items on the list.

"A handsome protagonist hides his relationship from his parents... What kind of concept is this? Next. A handsome protagonist charms women... Hmm, if I do this now, I'll get stoned. A handsome protagonist mistakenly thinks he's charming women? I don't get the intention, and I don't think I can play this role ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with this face..."

"Ah, I was reviewing that last one and meant to take it out. Must've slipped in by mistake."

Having reviewed the entire list, Sion fell into deep thought.

"In the end, the problem is that I'm just too handsome."

"...I know you're joking, but because you're actually handsome, it sounds dead serious."

"Oh, you hit the nail on the head. It's a joke, but it's serious."

Sion brushed his hair back with a casual, slightly arrogant gesture. His slightly long dirty blonde hair fell messily across his forehead, and his large eyes gazed at Charlie as if trying to seduce him.

Even though it wasn't an intentional gesture, his striking appearance naturally made it look that way. Of course, Charlie was so used to Sion's face that he didn't think much of it.

After staring at Sion for a moment, Charlie offered a suggestion.

"What about using heavy makeup?"

"I thought about that. But to cover this face, the makeup would have to be heavy. Right now, I want a movie we can shoot quickly and release immediately. Something that can come out around next March. If I spend all day in makeup and only get to act for three hours, that's not ideal."

"Hmm, then we have to find a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠way to make you funny just as you are."

"That's the dilemma."

Sion kept flipping pages, his brow furrowed.

Of course, he didn't think he was an unfunny person. After all, why did the public want his 'brat' image now? Because it was entertaining, relatable, and fun.

Right. The problem is that when I act, that relatability disappears.

'Relatability.' A handsome face naturally lacks it. On the stage of reality, the actor Sion Lee possessed it through the narrative built by his career and personal episodes. But once he stepped onto a film set, he had to erase all of that and start anew.

Naturally, the actor's physical image would heavily dictate the role.

That's why I need to expand my image through a comedy film.

Why did most comedy films rely on simple, easily understood plots? Because they were easy to relate to, and thus easy to immerse oneself in.

Using that foundation to twist and turn like a roller coaster to evoke laughter was the textbook definition of comedy, and it was only natural that actors appearing in such genres felt more human to the audience.

The prime example was Arnold Schwarzenegger, Hollywood's ultimate macho icon, softening his image through family comedies like Twins, Kindergarten Cop, and Junior.

Is there nothing good...

Sion's eyes suddenly widened as he flipped through the pages. A particular movie caught his eye.

He had found ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his answer.

"Oh. Found it."

"Wh-What is it?"

At Charlie's question, Sion grinned and showed him the synopsis.

"...?"

"This will do."

"No, wait. Who's the co-star?"

"I do have one person in mind."

He did wonder if he could handle the aftermath, though.

At the time, Hollywood comedy films focused on three main points during production: low budget, fast production, and quick release.

As long as there was star power, people would flock to the theaters. Comedy was treated as Hollywood's safest 'low-risk, medium-return' genre.

Because of this, countless small and mid-sized production studios were constantly churning out movies to make people laugh.

New Line Cinema was one of the studios riding this wave.

Starting with low-budget horror films, the company had gradually grown in size and was now primarily producing comedies for mainstream appeal.

Within the company, various projects were running in different ways, almost like a factory churning out products. One of those projects was this very film.

"Not My Type... Ah, I didn't intend for it to go this way."

Keenan Ivory Wayans. A comedian, director, and producer who had dedicated his youth to Hollywood.

He was currently at home, discussing a movie with his brothers.

Keenan, who had helped bring Black comedy into the mainstream in the '80s and '90s, was currently working with New Line Cinema to try his hand at white comedy, which was somewhat out of his usual element.

Unlike Black comedy, which primarily dealt with satire and irony, white comedy relied heavily on situational humor and slapstick. Of course, it couldn't be strictly divided like that, but since white comedy was closer to the mainstream, Keenan had joined the production of Not My Type simply to make money.

A situational comedy about a white Hollywood superstar falling head over heels for a single mother with a child.

And of all the actors who had expressed interest in this role...

"Sion Lee? Damn it, why is his name coming up here?"

"What's there to worry about? This has hit written all over it!"

His younger brother, Marlon Wayans, jumped up from his seat and shouted.

The Wayans brothers were, so to speak, a showbiz family. Various members of their bloodline were active in different fields as comedians, actors, and more.

Thus, it was only natural for them to gather and talk about movies, and they had all been ecstatic the moment Sion Lee expressed interest in starring in Not My Type.

They had to be. A handsome actor like Sion Lee was perfect for this film, and his star power was immense.

"I know, I know... but still, the contract terms are a bit..."

"Even if we take a slight hit, shouldn't we look at this as an opportunity to show what we can do?"

"Exactly. Setting aside his looks, with his acting skills lately, the movie will turn out great."

Faced with the positive opinions around him, Keenan recalled the contract terms and fell into deep thought.

In short, it was simple.

He didn't care about the upfront salary. However, he wanted a Running Guarantee.

"But this percentage makes no sense..."

He had demanded a whopping five percent.

"Didn't Sion Lee get around ten percent for Swing in Chicago?"

"That was an indie film where extras happily worked for two slices of pizza. Even if he took ten percent, the producers would've bowed and scraped just to have him. But we're different. We're an established studio... This is arrogant."

And the second condition made him frown even more.

"He wants us to cast Olga Asimov as his co-star? What kind of crazy talk is this?"

"Whoa, damn. That kid is really on another level."

"He did a romance with the daughter, and now he wants the mother?"

"He's completely out of his mind."

Indeed he was. But in Hollywood, where money rules, everything was 'Never say never.'