Somehow, Talent Has Sprouted (2)
Marie-Joseph Luarecoline Ray was a recipient of the Légion d'Honneur Grand Croix.
"For a designer like you, the world must look like a canvas of colors, right?"
The president who awarded her the medal chuckled as he said it.
It was a ridiculous joke.
From the moment she was born right up to her near-sixty years, the world had never appeared colorful to her—it had always looked like a bunch of idiots.
"Some people are born with it, and some aren't. That's all there is to it."
A designer's eye and inspiration were innate.
And a model's body was even more so.
The runway was a world for the born-talented, and no amount of effort from the untalented could get them through the door.
And that same principle, scaled up or down, governed the world at large.
"Take haute couture, for instance—once bespoke for the elite, and still leading the fashion world today."
Qualifying for the Paris Haute Couture shows was brutally strict: the atelier had to be in Paris, employ at least fifteen people, have exclusive models, and, of course, possess the right class.
Prêt-à-porter refined that for ready-to-wear, and from there flowed the Big Four fashion weeks in Paris, London, Milan, and New York.
Trickling down further from those weeks, all the fashion and trends that so many people pretended to know about ultimately stemmed from a tiny handful of chosen talents.
—Which was why telling some mere ambassador to sprout angel wings wasn't asking too much.
"Even if they grasp nine out of ten points about innate good or malice, they won't understand it anyway—and the one tenth that does won't have the talent to pull it off. So what choice is there but to slap something on?"
"...Well."
"Something to say?"
"No, no. You're absolutely right, ma'am. Haha!"
Of course, to the Korean branch manager scrambling to accommodate the sudden arrival of the CEO, it was nothing short of old-fogey nagging.
The manager gripped the wheel, forcing a hearty laugh while cursing inwardly.
'Damn it, she ignores us when we handle things ourselves, but flies in on a day's notice! What would it hurt to give a heads-up?!'
Rumors were already swirling: sightings of Marie Ray here and there, questions about a visit to Korea. The CEO wouldn't face the press herself, but that meant they needed a plan to avoid the chaos.
And yet, the moment she landed, she was demanding to be taken somewhere with a TV...
"There's a candidate I've got in mind for ambassador."
"Ha, ha... It's an honor that you're even concerning yourself with our side of things..."
"Global."
"Pardon?!"
The branch manager nearly swerved the car.
His dazed eyes met his boss's stubborn expression in the rearview mirror.
Naturally, his pick for ambassador was local to Korea—and even that had top models and actors clamoring with applications.
That was the weight of being a Ray Goldmary ambassador.
Global?
Did this old bat think anyone in this country measured up to her standards?
"The problem is, there are too many."
The CEO said curtly.
"Mask too sharp, body too damn toned, overwhelming presence. Not my taste."
"I see..."
"Still, I saw something more... but this week? No clue. Might've misjudged the guy entirely."
"Right......."
What the hell was she on about?
At least it wasn't one of those high-fashion skeletons she favored—small mercies.
The manager sighed inwardly and asked,
"So, about the TV? Shall I take you somewhere we can rent out?"
"Anywhere showing this week's Unbelievable is fine."
"...Pardon?"
"Though this time, it'll probably underwhelm."
The designer glanced at the manager's ghost-pale face and sighed softly.
"Nothing more pathetic than failing to spot the talentless—or pumping them up with 'just do it' nonsense."
And she wasn't the only one thinking that.
#
There was this thing called the "anti-fan preservation law."
The more people liked something without reason, the more others hated it without reason—and if there was a reason to like it, they'd invent one to hate it anyway.
These types started crawling out around the latest Wine Talk episode.
And Unbelievable's teaser sent them exploding.
They didn't pick targets carefully—they just piled on the easy marks.
Three and a half years as a nobody.
A blank slate career.
Acting that wasn't particularly standout, propped up by lucky name value—
Jo Yun-a checked every box for getting flamed.
And that teaser? Perfect fuel.
They slipped in while Unbelievable fans reeled in confusion, stirring shit.
It worked like a charm.
Lightning stars endured this, but with Kang Min's rising fame, the backlash was ferocious.
Critics of the pile-on only fueled it more. Online communities descended into chaos over the past few days.
MBS took the innocent hits, as usual.
Unbelievable's official statement—"We cast her because she fit"—poured gasoline on the fire. Public opinion reignited, and the MBS VP nursed another headache.
Episode 1,082 started in utter pandemonium.
The result? Looked like a win for the Jo Yun-a haters.