Revenge Begins: Reincarnated as a Hated Idol!-Chapter 46: Introductory Scene

"Keep an eye on Aren’s profile," Theon instructed his manager. "Alert me the moment he posts anything."

"Consider it done." His manager responded, eyes glued to Aren’s profile.

They both believed Aren could only reply with an apology or by staying silent.

Responding to Zelda would only provoke her, spurring her to bash To Your Heart with even greater ferocity.

Furthermore, any attempt at clarification would inevitably rebound against him.

What defense could he muster?

Did To Your Heart not feature bullying and violence?

Could he refute that?

No, right?

Theon was certain that if Aren dared to respond, he’d sink into a mire of his own making—the harder he thrashed, the more inextricably he’d be ensnared.

Yet, defying all predictions, Aren used his experience as the CEO of a major agency to highlight and mold Zelda’s words, twisting them to unveil an unforeseen interpretation.

He captured a screenshot of her article and highlighted the part where she complained that Aren relied on his looks and charm rather than genuine performance and posted a reply on his profile:

[What’s wrong with Theon’s looks? Are you calling him ugly? Are you saying he doesn’t have charm? Kindly refrain from speaking about my former teammate that way. Thank You.]

As soon as that post went live, Theon’s manager notified him.

Theon was dumbfounded.

How did the spotlight swivel to his looks?

Was this what Aren got from that long article?

That Theon was ugly?

Aren didn’t criticize Zelda Frank nor put up any explanation denying her words. Instead, he simply changed the focus of conversation.

Gradually, his post’s comment section was filled with hilarity.

[Lol, Theon is ugly. What a lesson we got.]

[So Aren’s basically saying: if you have a problem with my looks, then get handsome and use yours too instead of criticizing me.]

[This comeback is gold—totally unexpected. Who knew Aren would clap back like this?]

Before long, Aren’s post eclipsed Zelda’s article, propelling it to trend instead.

A couple of new hashtags surfaced as a result.

#ZeldaFrankCalledTheonUgly#

#What’sWrongWithTheon’sLooks?#

Theon felt like coughing up blood.

Why were his looks suddenly the topic of conversation?

To make matters worse, he didn’t know how to reply.

Any counter would fan the flames rather than quench them.

Same was true for Zelda.

She wavered, unsure if issuing a clarification would salvage her stance or merely stoke the blaze.

In the meantime, Aren had arrived at the filming site of Symphony of Shadows.

The director, Fin Jacobs, personally received him, taking him inside a private corporate building.

They had rented an empty floor in the building to serve as the corporate office of the frail twin brother.

The plan was to shoot his scenes first before moving to the mercenary counterpart.

Given the mercenaries’ distinct physicality, Aren required rehearsal to embody their grit.

To that end, the team had enlisted a pair of authentic mercenaries from overseas to drill him in realistic combat maneuvers and firearms proficiency.

Currently, the production crew wasn’t worrying about the budget since they already had some lucrative offers waiting for them to accept.

Their reluctance to commit to an offer stemmed from a gambit: banking on To Your Heart’s escalating buzz to amplify the allure of Aren’s project for streaming giants.

At present, Fin Jacobs footed the bills from his own pockets.

After reaching the corporate floor, Aren headed to wardrobe for touch-ups, script clutched in hand.

The floor had belonged to a bankrupt firm, preserving an authentic office vibe ripe for the taking.

The cabins were already present, and the firm hadn’t retrieved their computers, making things easier for the production crew.

The camera and equipment were set up while Aren reviewed the scenes he had to perform.

The first scene featured Chris, the frail twin, enduring a barrage of documents hurled at his face by his boss while getting a scolding in the office for some minor mistakes in his report.

Since this was an introduction scene to the story, Aren scrutinized the scene meticulously, determined to give it his all.

The first impression would decide whether the viewers would be interested in the drama or not.

Many viewers didn’t stick around for long, considering their fickle attention spans.

Aren had to display that this drama, in which he played the lead for the first time, would be worth their time.

’First some characterization.’

The script mentioned only Chris’s behavior, stating that he was frail, under-confident, and spoke with a stammer; nothing else.

To make the character more memorable than that, Aren began giving him more characteristics.

One was slumped shoulders and then bad posture, something he developed after working in front of a computer for a long period of time, coupled with a lack of exercise.

Then there was his walk—short, hesitant steps instead of long strides—and his lowered gaze, not making eye contact with people.

Even the stammer had to be perfect, not annoying. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

A long stammer would annoy people, while a short one would appear fake. Aren had to use the right stammer while performing the scene.

"Aren, are you ready?" The director inquired from behind the camera, poised to shoot the scene.

Aren nodded and went to his position.

He was currently in corporate attire; an ID card of a fake company hung around his neck.

"Lights!"

Lights fell on his face, some illuminating the path ahead.

"Camera!"

The focus puller corrected the focal length of the lens.

"Action!"

Clap—!

The sharp sound of the clapboard snapped through the set.

For half a heartbeat, Aren stood still.

Then—

Chris appeared.

His shoulders caved inward as if the weight of the office ceiling pressed down on him. His spine curved subtly, chin dipping just enough to make him look smaller than he was. Even the way he held the file in his hands changed—fingers clutching the edges too tightly, knuckles paling.

He shuffled forward.

Not walked.

Shuffled.

Each step short and hesitant, shoes barely lifting off the polished floor, as if he feared the sound of his own footsteps.

"Chris!"

The boss’s voice cracked across the office like a whip.

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(A/N - Thanks for reading. ^..^)