Get Up!
"Whatever the case, what I'm saying is that Jun's channel is going to grow fast, and his fan base is only going to get thicker. I have zero doubt that one day, every product he advertises will sell like hotcakes."
Was she being wildly optimistic, overconfident, or just bluffing for the sake of the negotiation…?
I couldn't tell. What I could tell was that in the face of Cassandra's sheer nerve, Evan looked like he'd lost a fair bit of his fighting spirit.
"…"
Another stretch of silence threatened to settle in—until Cassandra cut it off with steel in her voice.
"Let's stop this pointless debate. Sales commission: three percent. Honestly, I don't think Brown House Publishing takes any real loss at that number. If you can't do the deal at that rate or better, we'd probably waste less of our time looking elsewhere."
At this point I no longer cared how it turned out. I just wanted to go home.
And to my surprise, Evan seemed to feel the same way.
"…Then let's draw it up that way. I look forward to working with you."
"Smart choice!"
Evan and Cassandra shook hands, and then so did Evan and I. There was barely any strength left in his grip.
And with the same limp hand, I signed the fresh contract he pulled out for me.
…My manager—pink suit, eyelashes that practically stabbed the sky, logic that was half forced and taste that was thoroughly unhinged—had won.
Dear God.
Thank you.
Anyway, the contract was signed.
I had no desire to know what he was thinking on the inside, but Evan remained a gentleman to the end.
"There's an after-party planned in Lewis Hall on the second floor. If you have the time, we'd be honored if you would grace us with your presence."
With that, we left his office first.
"…"
Holding the still-warm signed contract, we made our way toward the hall where the after-party was being held.
Beside a beaming Cassandra, I pushed the stroller along with all the energy of a deflated balloon and thought to myself.
No, hang on—if after all that I end up making less than a quarter of what we should have, that'll be pretty ridiculous too, won't it?
But I'd already decided to trust Cassandra and leave it in her hands, so I didn't feel like piling more words on top of it. The whole process had just drained me dry.
…And somehow, at this point, it was a matter of pride. I hadn't even started developing the recipes yet, but with those videos I absolutely had to pull in at least three thousand dollars in revenue.
That way…
Even if he was too dazed to process it now, there was no chance he'd go around spreading the story later or get the bright idea to laugh about it.
I was quietly stoking my resolve when Cassandra patted my shoulder.
"Don't worry, Jun. Everything's going to be fine."
"Yes…"
Still, we'd gotten five thousand. The advance was supposed to hit within five business days. That was almost three months of rent.
Well done, me. I hadn't actually done much of anything yet.
"Uung…!"
"Yeah, our Luca's awake."
I stopped the stroller and soothed Luca through a little sleep-fussiness before lifting him into my arms.
"Luca."
"Eeh…"
The baby looked up at me with half-lidded eyes and answered, thoroughly unimpressed.
"Just one word for Daddy, okay? Tell me I did a good job."
"Eh…"
"What are you saying to the baby, Jun?"
"Luca understands everything I say."
"Then instead of telling him you worked hard, you should lead with the part where you made money."
"…You've got a point. Luca, Daddy made money."
Luca yawned a tiny yawn, stretched, and twisted in my arms. Yeah—that meant "good job, Daddy," right?
I rested the still half-asleep child's head against my shoulder and rubbed his back.
"Cassandra, Luca seems pretty worn out, so I'm going to feed him and settle him a bit before I join the party. Would you mind going ahead?"
"Sure. There's a lounge on this floor anyway."
At least one person in the group still had energy to spare. Cassandra marched off toward the hall like she'd already been hired as my manager, promising to find the lounge for us and start greeting people first.
Click.
The lounge door shut and cut off the noise from outside, and only then did my brain come back online. Thankfully, there was no one else in the lounge but Luca and me.
Grateful for the generous seating and tables, I sank onto a soft sofa with the baby for the first time in hours.
"Aigoo…"
A groan slipped out on its own. The exhaustion rolled in so thick I genuinely couldn't understand how I'd managed office life until recently.
Had I always been this bad at being out and about?
"…No, it's less that and more that Daddy almost became an apron pervert, right, Luca?"
"Hee…"
"Why are you laughing. What do you even know. You little guy. You cute little guy."
I tickled him with every word, and he dissolved into peals of giggles.
Then he glanced around the room and fidgeted his little hands.
"Our Luca's only brave at home, huh."
"Eung…"
"You've got to be brave outside too."
"Aboo…!"
I planted a soft kiss on the round crown of his head, and he smiled without a sound.
"When is our baby going to start saying 'Daddy, Daddy'?"
"Eung…"
I took my time easing the tension out of him. I fed him, took him to the restroom and changed his diaper.
Back in the lounge, I held him and rocked him until those big eyes fluttered open and shut with sleep. Seizing the moment, I worked hard to put him down.
These days he didn't usually take short naps like this, but the release of all that tension must have done it—he drifted off smooth as silk.
I pushed the stroller quietly into the hall. Even more people than had been in the conference room earlier were gathered, enjoying the after-party.
Finding Cassandra among them was not hard. All-pink outfits weren't exactly common.
The moment I stepped in, she spotted me too, excused herself from the person she'd been talking with, and came over.
"Is Luca asleep? Perfect. I'll watch the stroller—go properly introduce yourself to people. I've already told everyone about you."
"Thank you."
Cassandra seemed to have already mapped everyone in attendance. She pointed out a few faces in the crowd, saying she'd flag the important ones first.
"That one over there is going to be the main photographer."
"And that side is sponsoring the cookware for the recipe book photos…"
The people she pointed out were staff more than fellow authors.
"The other authors are your competition. These are the people you need to stay on the good side of."
"Is that how it works."
"That's exactly how it works. Go on. If it's too awkward, stick next to James and circulate. That man has great social energy."
Cassandra shoved me gently in the back, and I started by greeting the people she'd indicated.
Thanks to the temporary name-tag lanyards, I didn't have to launch into a whole speech about who I was, which made striking up conversation easier.
After that, I went looking for James.
Help me. Where are you, mister.
I scanned the room as casually as I could, and as I did, the overall makeup of the crowd finally sank in.
James the café owner was a familiar face, but there was also Ivy Taylor, whom I'd met earlier, plus a nurse, an artist, a counselor, a bodyguard…
It really hit me how many different fields were represented in one room.
And the person who drew the eye most, of course, was Vanessa—the influencer whose job was written all over her.
She looked about my age, and from what I knew she mostly posted about fashion, fitness, and clean eating for a healthy body. I could already roughly guess what kind of baking she'd contribute.
Cassandra's line about fellow authors being competition wasn't entirely wrong. Even if James was focusing on sandwich bread recipes, if anyone else's recipes overlapped, someone would have to revise.
"Hmm…"
I was studying the room a little more carefully when James, mid-conversation with Vanessa, suddenly lifted the sherry glass in his hand in my direction.
The after-party ran longer than I'd expected. By the time everyone who wasn't staff spilled out of the Brown House Publishing building, the sky had already turned peach.
Cassandra, who'd gone out ahead of me, pulled the car around. I asked James if he wanted a ride home; he clapped me on the back, said he had another dinner commitment, and vanished in a whirl.
Unlike me, he was clearly the type who only got more energized the more people he met.
I buckled a now wide-awake Luca into his car seat, and the door shut.
The car pulled out, and the moment we eased around the first soft corner, I let out the breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
It was over.
Clocking out.
"Aigoo, a man barely in his mid-twenties, wiped out after just half a day out of the house."
Right—there was another person here who seemed to gain energy every time she met someone.
"It's because I had to keep talking to people I don't know."
Even playing a full hour and a half with Greg—guitar and vocals the whole time—never left me this completely drained.
Cassandra laughed.
"Then catch a few minutes of sleep on the way back."
"…Thanks."
Having someone to drive me home comfortably was such a relief I could have cried.
Past me, who used to refuse company and insist on going alone—reflect hard on your choices.
Of course, that didn't mean I could actually sleep with Luca in the back, who'd already napped his fill and was now wide awake for the long haul.
Even after we got home, my day wasn't over. I still had to feed him again, bathe him, play with him, and put him to bed.
"Okay, time for our Luca to go night-night?"
"Eung…!"
He'd been playing happily on the bed, but the second he heard me he flipped over and tried to bolt—so he definitely understood the word "night-night" by now.
Even without that, it was crystal clear he did not want to sleep.
I caught the runaway baby and laid him flat for the third time, and the tantrum began in earnest.
"Kyaaaak!"
"Aigoo, Luca…"
I sat the baby—who had decided home meant free rein to make dolphin noises—upright on the mattress and started pleading.
"Listen carefully, Luca."
"Ah!"
"Luca has to go night-night so Daddy can wash up and go night-night too."
"Euah!"
"Yeah, Daddy's tired today, but it was a pretty proud kind of day, you know?"
"Eung…!"
I caught the baby's wriggling arm as he tried to squirm free and gave it a gentle shake.
"But the battery's done. I think I've got about fifteen percent left."
"Aah!"
"Yeah, now ten percent…"
"Eung…"
I let my head drop until my forehead rested lightly on the mattress.
"…Now five percent."
"Eung-ah!"
Smack!