Bustling Awards Ceremony (7)
American tabloid reporters were in a league of their own among the world's yellow press.
Even the scandal-hungry paparazzi who thrived on fame in Korea—no, especially them—had to bow down before these lunatics' sheer aggression and nonsense. It wasn't about dodging lawsuits; these maniacs assembled legal teams from the get-go. What could anyone even do against that?
...But even they found today's interview a tough nut to crack.
In a slightly different way.
"Why did you two go to Broadway alone? Oh, do I really have to say it myself?"
"The stage? Well, you know. I wanted to strut like a peacock, show off a bit. Ended up getting help instead... Kinda embarrassing, this one."
"I already told you I have nothing more to say about the old rumors. Ah, regardless of whether it's true or not!"
"I know the rumors are flying. Weird, right? Wonder where everyone heard it from."
"Good lord, you're really making the woman say it herself?"
Every response left the reporters blinking in stunned silence.
What the hell.
What was this actress trying to pull—
And no wonder. What was supposed to be clarification only fanned the flames of suspicion higher.
Worse, she was grinning the whole time. No reporter could make heads or tails of it.
It was the kind of bizarre behavior that left even seasoned journalists dumbfounded.
What the...?
What the hell is she thinking?
Hang on, what the fuck is her agent doing? This is okay?!
Of course it wasn't okay.
Right behind her, her manager—face pale as a ghost—was dashing around, waving frantically. But Aisling Lewis coolly ignored it all.
As time dragged on, the reporters' bewilderment twisted into something grotesque, agency staff turned sheet-white, and Aisling's grin only deepened.
No surprise that reactions were already bubbling up online.
A press conference where everyone was shell-shocked except the beaming actress.
The final nail in the coffin came with one last question.
"So, uh... one final question from me."
The reporter cleared his throat and read from his list. His notepad held the most ridiculous rumor making the rounds lately.
It stemmed from Kang Min's comments like 'Not sure if I nagged a lot, but about 60% of it was one kid who took it,' or 'There were times I worried if they'd ever function normally in society'—twisted into absurd nonsense like "Miss Spanner Villain".
No way she'll dodge this one.
Yeah, it wasn't over yet— the reporter steeled his expression and spoke up.
"There's a rumor this story's about you. Any comment? It's pretty wild, right?"
"Hmm..."
Even unflappable Aisling paused this time. Hope flickered in the reporters' eyes.
But only for a moment. She flashed another eye smile.
"I was quite the troublemaker as a kid, wasn't I?"
"......."
"That's all I'll say. End of story!"
This was beyond salvaging.
Before the slack-jawed reporters could react, reactions exploded across Korea and the US like a bilateral bombshell.
The blast rippled through online communities, sparking chain reactions that devolved into total chaos, setting everything ablaze.
...But no forum's firepower or frenzy could match one person's meltdown.
"Call me too! You said call a reporter...!!"
"Get a grip, for God's sake!! What the hell are we gonna do with a reporter?!"
"That crazy bitch is stealing my story! It's all mine! That's my story, I tell you...!!"
"Bom, please! What do you gain from admitting you've been busting heads since you were a kid?!?!"
What kind of deranged world was this, where actresses fought over a lunatic title like Miss Spanner Villain as if it were theirs?
Seo Bom's manager felt tears welling up as she watched her charge literally clawing at her clothes now.
···And yeah,
Separate from that madness, the fiasco cast a pretty disastrous shadow over an event a few days later.
#
It was already noted that the Emmys and Golden Globes had lately formed a subtle rivalry.
The Golden Globes had ramped up non-white nominees in TV categories to blatantly jab at the Emmys, which played a big role in the Emmys' bizarre nomination of that freakish PSA clip William White and the Holy Gun.
Looking back, though, it was a bit off. Unlike the Emmys, which lacked a foreign-language category, the Golden Globes could've sprinkled side awards on Unbelievable or King and Sovereign to troll them if they wanted.
Yet they snubbed Kang Min because their own 'changes' were just superficial shine.
Even their internal judging was a mess.
"This many Black nominees should do it, right?"
"Yeah, whatever. Doesn't sit right, but no backlash."
"We should bump up the win rate a bit."
"Fuck, is this an awards show or a zoo...?"
Unlike the Emmys' broadcast insiders, Golden Globe voters were US journalists—and until 2021, all white.
The infamous Minari backlash, with actors returning awards and all, forced a tail-between-legs retreat, but just that. No deep soul-searching after a few years.
They grumbled over how to make token nominations and wins look least awkward.
That's when one judge cautiously spoke up.
"What about Kang?"
"Kang? Who's that?"
"Kang Min... y'know, William White. He's got insane popularity, and the Emmys went all-in. We gotta do something—"
"Pfft."
Sneering chuckles rippled around.
As the proposer shrank back, the chair tsked and scolded.
"Listen, Una. They're just doing token noms too. What awards show gives a prize to that actor?"
"...Still."
"Plus, he's not even Black—he's Asian. The former make noise; the latter don't. Play with a flash-in-the-pan clown, and you become one."
"......."
But the judge held firm, forcing a token vote.
Naturally, only one vote for nominating Kang Min.
The chair smirked at the results.
"Any objections?"
"...No."
"Fine, since you're so insistent, let's throw in that Harry Gordon he was hanging with lately. That work?"
"......Yes."
They mocked the slumped judge and scattered.
But yeah, that prophet was right. Word came just weeks later.
The Golden Globes flipped out.
"What? The Emmys actually gave that monkey the award?!"
"Those psycho bastards...!"
"Are they insane?!"
They couldn't hide their shock.
For them—proud of sniping the Emmys with their 'token Black' lineup—it shattered every plan. What kind of shock value was this?
They were utterly dumbfounded.
"No, this is a stretch even for them. Backlash is coming, for sure!"
"Right! Totally!"
But the news days later crushed even that self-delusion.
The messenger looked shell-shocked too.
"Broadway... Sir Patrick stepped in..."
"...What?"
"Kang's a born stage actor... If he wants, starring at the Majestic in six months, public offer..."
"Crazy...!"
"God save us...!"
It was full-on screams now.
Patrick Bennett, revered on both West End and Broadway. Even Sir Arthur Reed chimed in agreement.
Who ignores the words of Broadway's Two Gentlemen? Debates exploded—Sudden lead? Doubting the elders' eyes?—flipping theater world inside out, spilling into the streets.
Either way, the Emmys' 'gutsy' call earned shouts of "Only the Emmys could!"
"See that?"
"Yes..."
"...You were right, Ms. Taylor."
"Oh, no need to be modest! As my friend says in that proverb: True heroes recognize true heroes!"
"......."
While Emmy judge John Taylor—who first pushed William White—preened sky-high, the reconvened Golden Globe voters looked like they'd eaten dirt.
The meeting was pure chaos.
"What... what do we do...?"
"They're already ripping us! 'You have foreign film categories—why miss the Broadway/Emmys pick? All whites again? Racist rerun?'—"
"We could've nominated for some crap award and slipped it in! Why not even that?!"
"Suzy, you voted no too!"
They bickered wildly but had no fix. Late nominations now? Just a joke.
After two days' debate, they scraped together a Hail Mary.
"...One way."
"What?"
"Give the award to Harry Gordon outright."
"Hm...?"
Star of the second New PSA Quartet.
They schemed around his character Chun-sik.
#
Days later, at the Golden Globes ceremony.
Held as always at the Hilton ballroom, it devolved into far more of a shitshow than staff expected.
"Next, Best Short Form Actor... Sheldon from Make a Little, congratulations!"
"That's not what I'm saying!"
"Hey, Sheldon. You're up."
"...Oh, right."
Staff smug about perfectly sniping the Emmys? Useless—the storm had already hit.
Even among nominees and invitees, awards talk was nil.
The hot potato flipping the world last week was at fever pitch.
Kang Min and the Emmys.
Kang Min and Broadway.
And Kang Min and Aisling Lewis.
...The last one dominated, naturally.
"What the hell was Aisling thinking with that interview...?"
"Just blowing off steam, right? She's taken enough unfair hits. Deserved to snap."
"So everything she said was bullshit?"
"Obviously! When'd she ever go to Korea!"
"So the scandal's fake too? But Mr. White and Broadway—that's real, right? Right after the Emmys."
"They're close, sure! What's with the obsession?"
"No, when'd they even meet? Not at the Emmys—that intense. Must've been before."
"Something from childhood we don't know?"
"So some truth after all."
"Where's the truth in that madness!"
If it were their usual controversy-monger, fine.
Or a lone wolf actor, ignored.
But Aisling Lewis was the humble junior, great colleague—mild-mannered, considerate, beloved by all.
Actors with any tie to her felt compelled to back her this time. No issue there.
The real fight: What to do?
"Blast a condemnation statement first? Petition with a ton of names—they'll feel pressured to apologize."
"No, reporters did nothing wrong here. Bad move—could backfire..."
"What? It's their karma piling up till she snapped!"
"Still, think of public opinion. We don't know how much truth she spilled. Issue a support statement first..."
"Talk to Mr. White first."
"Then what? Fire heart fireworks for their love?"
"If needed! Condemn too!"
"I know a guy great at heart designs."
"I think you've all lost it..."
Goddamn it...!
Who really wanted to lose it? Not the actors—but Golden Globes staff.
Their meticulously prepped show buzzed solely with Kang Min or Aisling Lewis, not awards.
At least if one were here... but no. That snub fueled the apathy.
A casual Asian exclusion snowballed into total ceremony meltdown.
Staff couldn't shake nightmares of years-ago boycotts and Tom Cruise dumping awards.
"Hmph."
"Hoo..."
Worse: Reporters eyeing the chaos hungrily. End like this? Expect savage articles.
Truly cornered.
Golden Globes staff steadied shaking guts.
"Calm down. We have a plan."
"Right. Just get Harry Gordon on stage."
"If that guy rips into the Asian, we escape this mess!"
It was obvious—shallow.
But potentially effective.
Chun-sik Gordon vs. Kang Min was infamous; Gordon was blameless. Hand him an award, amp his gripes—topic shifted.
Golden Globes dodges the firestorm—everyone banked on it.
But schemers' plans and the mark's thoughts often diverge.
Soon, Harry Gordon was called for Best Short Form Actor. Sparse claps; his manager backstage fretted.
"Harry, really doing this?"
"Have to."
"......."
"A man has no choice."
Harry Gordon.
The guy who'd ground his teeth plotting revenge on Kang Min—silently ascended the stage.
Over expectant and skeptical stares, he spoke.
So, yeah.
The perfect capstone to all Kang Min's US uproar.
"Sorry, but I'm not qualified for this award."
"?"
"...?"
Cameras flashed wildly. Reporters lit up, shutters clicking madly at the unknown.
Including the jaw-dropped Golden Globes staff, of course.