Bustling Awards Ceremony (6)
Unlike Broadway, Off-Broadway theaters, which typically seat fewer than 500, tend to shy away from video media. Some are purists who insist that seeing it live can never match a filmed version. Others take pride in distinguishing themselves from purely commercial outfits. And then there are just practical reasons. Regardless, Off-Broadway footage rarely surfaces unless it's something like the Obie Awards that brings mainstream fame. That's why Kang Min's bizarre intrusion started spreading only by word of mouth.
"So, you're saying some random guy suddenly rushed the stage, went 'gah!' and collapsed?"
"Yeah!"
"And like Don Quixote charging at windmills, he kept sprinting in and flopping down over and over?"
"Yeah!"
"And that idiotic stunt was so raw and heart-wrenching that no one could look away, and eventually everyone was so hyped they belted out The Man of La Mancha in unison?"
"Yeah!!"
"...You sure you weren't drunk?"
The 420 audience members from that night all burst out in excitement, desperately trying to convey their experience. But it wasn't easy.
It wasn't about story, direction, or music. It was a mystical experience so profound that even the viewers themselves couldn't explain why their hearts were stirring.
Of course, to listeners, it just sounded like nonsense.
The hyped-up audience members got pissed when their friends reacted skeptically.
"Hah, if you won't believe me, what can I do? You're the one who missed out!"
"Those three giants were like a three-bladed windmill! A true knight's charge!"
"Even Lady Dulcinea looked choked up!"
"...Okay, I get that you all lost your minds."
From the listeners' perspective, the "story" was just charging and collapsing—nothing that would sound sane no matter how you spun it. Heated arguments escalated to fights in places.
And this wasn't just among audience members or aspiring actors.
The theater owner himself was veins bulging, picking fights everywhere.
"Why won't it work, you senile old coot! Didn't I say I found a gem among gems?!"
"You stop the senility, Sir Patrick! You want to put some newbie who's never set foot on a theater stage as the lead? Aren't you ashamed before the Queen who knighted you and West End?!"
"Don't you trust my eyes?!"
"I don't trust a senile man's eyes!!"
Even the duo dubbed "Broadway's Two Gentlemen" from the UK were cursing each other out. Everyone below them was the same.
Even worse, this dogfight had driven Sir Patrick—the theater owner who'd been chuckling idly since opening his little American spot—into a wild rampage.
"Hey, track down that William White from the other day... no, Kang Min. Where is he?"
"Pardon? Why?"
"Gotta pay his fee!"
"......?"
While Kang Min stared at the sudden $50,000 check that landed in his hotel room, question marks popping over his head, the theater owner stormed off and released the footage from the theater's camera.
It wasn't a proper camera—more like a security or stage-use monitor—so the quality was crap. Even insiders first watching it wondered if Sir Patrick had truly lost it.
But that doubt didn't last.
"Hm."
"Oh..."
"This is...?"
Abysmal video quality.
Even worse audio—
But if you couldn't catch the expressions on screen and the audience's frenzy beyond the garbled sound, you had no business on Broadway.
Their faces changed in an instant.
'This level of acting as an ad-lib in front of an audience...?'
'Wait, even half of this...'
'He's not senile...?'
Was this the birth of a world-shaking monster rookie? Or just hype?
Broadway held its breath at the ultimate bait from the mighty Sir Patrick Bennett.
...But while the theater weirdos obsessed over food, plays, and musicals, the general public reacted differently.
Precisely, they all looked utterly flabbergasted.
Before America even stirred, reactions across the sea in Korea had already exploded.
Once one tabloid fired the first shot with a #hashtag, every major daily paper gobbled it up within hours.
The agency head, leaping out at dawn, clutched his head with an "oh" and downed the painkillers from his drawer.
Unfortunately, that classic American fix didn't help. He pinched his brow and asked,
"So, why'd the kid who ditched reporters end up on Broadway?"
"I... helped a bit."
"Report?"
"You know Aislinn pulls stunts often. She hadn't had scandals in ages, looked super down lately... Thought I could handle it quietly and report later."
"I'm losing it."
"B-but I had guards tailing from afar! Got the report she stormed out of the theater and split—figured typical her. Never thought it'd blow up like this...!"
Fair enough—who'd expect two masked actors to storm a stage and wreck it?
The head didn't blame him further.
Unlike scandal-obsessed Korea, dating itself wasn't big news in America. Aislinn's clean streak might draw eyes, but just that.
The real issue was Kang Min himself.
The manager glanced cautiously.
"William White's always been a hot potato and enigma. Right after the Emmy win, on Broadway no less—wild rumors everywhere."
"Like?"
"Well..."
The manager hesitated again.
It was that juicy.
"They were Broadway's legendary duo split by a shady agency; now topping charts, they're teaming for their own theater; famous Sir Patrick, moved by their love, lends it for two years; that 'troublemaker kid from the orphanage' Kang mentioned offhand is Aislinn..."
"The last one's total BS! And shady agency—us?!"
"That's rumors for ya..."
"Damn it...!"
Bound to spread. A date on a Broadway stage? Insane spot.
The head felt like snapping—but it wasn't over.
Koreans, hired by Americans(?), started digging Kang Min's old interviews.
Initially, slim pickings.
The scraps: "There was a headache kid at the facility"; "Not sure about nagging, but 60% from one guy"; "Had someone act as guardian for a week over school issues"; "Worried if some could adjust to society."
Casual mentions folks shrugged off as "tough times."
But piecing the puzzle...
Didn't last.
Most laughed it off. Why would Aislinn Lewis be in a Korean orphanage? Nonsense before logic.
But some don't care about that.
'No way, even if...'
'But still.'
'What if...?'
The "what if" crossed to America, hyped on Reddit as Korea's top theory, spreading like wildfire. "Facility" softened to "orphanage."
Aislinn's agency was losing its mind.
The manager burst into the waiting room, wailing.
"Aislinn, what now! Everyone thinks you bashed kids' heads with a wrench as a kid!! That fading assault scandal's blowing up again!!"
"Well, not wrench, but something similar maybe...?"
"What?! Not a rumor?!"
"Kidding."
"···?"
The pale manager regained composure seeing her calm demeanor.
Weird. She'd been traumatized by "reporters," sweating buckets.
Now? Fine, at least outwardly.
'Faking it...?'
No, tension gone. Even smiling.
Grinning, Aislinn held up her phone photo.
"What do you think?"
"Of what?"
"This actress."
"...?"
Huh? The manager peered anyway.
East Asian.
Stunner.
Thin yet soft-arched brows, harmonious features. Plump lips tempered by stoic expression and elegantly drooped eye corners into fresh elegance.
No filter? Still, this level meant top-tier base.
"Looks good."
"...Yeah?"
"Who is she? Audition? Welcome aboard. Even with 30% edits, face carries if talent's meh."
"I see."
I see—Aislinn still smiled sweetly. Flawless compared to the photo.
But why... a chill gripped the manager.
Aislinn pocketed her phone.
"Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow...?"
"Press conference."
Her eyes widened more.
"Wasn't that why you're here?"
"......."
Suddenly, the manager recalled that internet meme: smiles born from aggression.
"Brave..."
"Nah, wanna milk Kang for stories."
To U.S. tabloid hacks, Aislinn was a goldmine.
Brother's tragic death, assault from emotions, frequent breakdowns, emotional instability. All reporter catnip.
Lately, though...
"Subs getting bored. Some sympathy brewing."
"Yeah, overmilked... One last views grab, then quit."
"Same."
But Kang Min bait too fresh to drop. Proper scoop? Jackpot.
Gathered journalists eyed each other, grinning. No quitters.
Poor actress's fate sealed.
They waited half-pitifully.
But the start? Way off-script—
"First question: True you bashed a rival's head with a wrench as a kid, bonding with Mr. Kang?"
Obvious denial bait.
Psychologically, forces defensive posture. Pros know: better for follow-ups.
They smirked, plotting the pile-on.
Aislinn smiled sweetly.
"Not cool if I bring it up."
"Pardon...?"
"Fact or not, can't confirm myself. You get it?"
"?????"
Eh... what?
Top tabloid hacks gaped blankly—same moment Seo Bom's manager in Korea struggled to restrain her freakout.
Bustling Awards Ceremony (6) End