Chapter 182
Samcheong-dong Neighborhood
Ong Se-Ri Residence
“Royalty now?” Ong Se-Ri complained, swiping through the slideshow of pictures on Myo Mi-Sun’s website. “Hanging out with princes, musicians, and billionaires, really? Private yachts and jets, globetrotting with your new little friends, what’s next?” she scathingly asked.
When she clicked on a link that went to a headline, her eyes widened.
“Engaged?!” Ong Se-Ri scoffed, pulling up the pictures of Myo Mi-Sun that were with her fiancé. “That’s her bodyguard… She’s kissing her bodyguard?” she asked, confused, scrolling through the pictures.
The pictures were from a private yacht where Myo Mi-Sun was in a barely there bikini in the arms of a handsome man with an impressively defined muscular body.
The photos of them together revealed more than just a relationship.
It showed Myo Mi-Sun’s body, one that no one had seen before, and it was surprisingly toned as if she had been working out. The man she was in the arms of was extremely built (muscular) and sexy as sin.
But it didn’t look right that he had his arms around a plain little Korean actress. The man was too European, too tall, too broad, too old, and way too sexy to be Myo Mi-Sun’s fiancé.
The way he looked at her, how they were always touching, even the strangely intimate nature of him rubbing sunblock on her back while she was sunbathing on the deck of a private yacht…
Even the best actors in the world couldn’t play that role better than he did, so he had to be getting paid for the little charade in front of the cameras.
Ong Se-Ri continued to swipe through the pictures, and each made her angrier and angrier that the woman she had been trying to ruin at every turn was happy.
“Once again that annoying little b*tch gets everything what she wants,” she sneered, slamming the laptop closed them tossed it on the table.
There was a knock at the door.
“I told you I would get you the rent next week!” Ong Se-Ri yelled.
There was another knock at the door.
Without a job, she was behind on her rent. No news station or media affiliates would touch her now. They wouldn’t even take any of her calls or reply to her emails. Myo Mi-Sun and her little bodyguards made sure of that. She was even blacklisted from every Korean fan site and K-Drama gossip blog out there!
Ong Se-Ri had run out of options, and soon she would be homeless and on the street.
Again, it was something Myo Mi-Sun’s security team made sure of.
Even her own cousin wouldn’t take her calls.
The knock came again.
“I said I will have your money next week!” Ong Se-Ri said again, getting to her feet then headed across the apartment to the door. “I said,” she started, jerking the door open, but her words trailed off.
Standing there was the very last person she ever expected to see, and it was the last person she wanted to see.
“Coming to rub it in my face?” Ong Se-Ri sneered.
Myo Mi-Sun offered a smile and slight bow. “I have no idea what you are inferring to, but I came to speak with you. Are you available for an old friend?” she humbly asked.
“Old friend?” Ong Se-Ri scoffed. “We were never friends. You went out of your way to always be better than me. Every casting call, every time we read for the same part, you always had to one up me. It was a constant competition with you, one I never stood a chance at winning because of your orphan sob story that every casting agent knew. I have nothing to say to you, especially after you ruined me,” she sneered and slammed the door in her face…
Or tried to.
A large hand caught the door and pushed it back open.
Kita stood behind Myo Mi-Sun, towering over the two Koreans.
Ong Se-Ri stepped back. “What are you going to do? Sic your bodyguard turned bed warmer on me?”
“Do I have a reason to?” Rain asked, no longer in the mood to pretend they are friends. “You have been retired. Your bank accounts are empty. Every little photog and jerk you had following me around have been retired as well. So, I have to ask, what is more pressing than having tea with an old friend that comes with an offer?” she asked with a smirk.
That tone, the look on her face, the confidence that she had.
That wasn’t Myo Mi-Sun in the least.
It wasn’t even Seon Rain.
Ong Se-Ri gave them a look then stepped aside and waved them inside.
Rain took a seat and Kita stood next to her, his suit jacket loosened so Ong Se-Ri clearly saw he was armed.
“Well, talk,” Ong Se-Ri said, standing back away from them. “And I’m not making you tea.”
“I would never expect any type of civility from you,” Rain said. “And for the record, I never used my dead parents as a crutch for casting agents, and I never stole a job from you. I was simply better. Sit,” she said, motioning towards the chair across from her.
Ong Se-Ri eyed her suspiciously.
This was the same young woman she grew up with, that she auditioned with, and that she had obsessed over and tried to ruin for years.
But it wasn’t.
There was something different about her, the confidence she suddenly had was concerning and not normal in the least.
“What do you want?” Ong Se-Ri asked.
“To help you, one more time,” Rain said. “And then we are done, and never again will my name, either of them, leave your lips.”
Curious, more than anything, Ong Se-Ri sat.
“You have two minutes,” she said.
“I will have all the time I want,” Rain corrected. “My people have ruined you in South Korea. That we can agree on, and I strangely take insurmountable pleasure in knowing I was the reason for that.”
Ong Se-Ri glared at her.
“Because of our past, I am feeling very charitable,” she continued. “I have a story that I would like to offer you that would an exclusive.”
She rolled her eyes. “Your engagement is yesterday’s news.”
“Not so much,” Rain retorted, her thumb absently spinning the ring around her finger; it was like a calming mantra for her. “That is something entirely different to report on, but you are not getting that exclusive.”
“And which one am I getting?” she asked, curious. “Are you pregnant by the help?”
“You were once like a little sister to me,” Rain said, ignoring her rude comment. “I wanted you to be my sister so badly growing up, someone that I could call family. And for a while you were, until you didn’t get what you wanted from me which was my career. Family doesn’t do that to each other. They don’t use each other and then abandon them when they get or don’t get what they want from them. That isn’t family.”
Ong Se-Ri laughed. “That’s the same pathetic spiel you used on me growing up. Funny considering your aunt and mother were completely insane and abandoned you and their family.”
Rain smiled, to her surprise. “Yes, they did. My low self-esteem caused me to scrape the bottom of the barrel… That is the correct way to use that American idiom?” she asked, looking to Kita.
He nodded.
“Thank you,” Rain said and Kita offered another nod of the head. “No longer am I that spineless little orphan you exploited. And no longer am I searching for someone to fill a void in my life that my lost family had created.”
Kita rested his hand on her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“I have a cousin that has been like a brother to me and in my heart, and he has always been there for me,” Rain continued, resting her hand on Kita’s. “An uncle that stepped up and was like a mother and father to me. Now I have an amusing adrenaline junkie troublesome little brother that is older than me, an annoyingly overbearing and undermining big sister, a snobby French mother and an adorable Japanese father because of this ring,” she said, motioning towards the ring on her finger.
Ong Se-Ri gave her a look.
If she were still a reporter, this would be an inside scoop straight from the horse’s mouth.
Instead, it was a mocking reminder of what Myo Mi-Sun took from her.
And she vowed to never be made a fool of by Seon Rain again.
Before she could tell them to get the hell out of her apartment, there was a knock at the door.
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