In February 2008, within a dance studio where the walls depict blue skies dotted with fluffy clouds, S Entertainment's agent bursts through the door, causing an immediate stir. "Vicky, you've got a fashion show coming up in a few days, and we're bringing in a coach to help hone your catwalk," he announces with a jubilant air.
Chaos ensues. The practice room fills with ecstatic cheers, almost loud enough to raise the roof.
"Congrats, Vicky!"
"You're really starting to shine…"
"Look at you, gigs just rolling in!"
Amidst this whirlwind of excitement, Victoria beams with joy, her exaggerated reactions prompting waves of laughter from her peers. The exhilaration is evident in her eyes. Pretty Generation, the group she is part of, debuted not even a year ago and is still on their ascent to widespread recognition.
Outside of the scheduled company events, each member hustles, appearing on variety shows to boost their visibility. A spontaneously offered gig feels like a gift from above.
Victoria, grinning from ear to ear, nervously tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and inquires, "Which show is it? I'd like to prepare…"
"A company called King Game is handling it, I think?" The agent seems slightly uncertain. "I don't have the details; the business department took care of it. But they recommended you right away when approached. Just seize this opportunity!" He pumps a fist in the air energetically. "Give it your best!"
"Yes, I will," Victoria replies, her determination flashing in her eyes. In the competitive uptown entertainment scene, every artist needs that relentless work ethic to survive.
Once the agent leaves, the boisterous chatter fills the room again. Suddenly, a petite girl nicknamed Sunny leaps up, her excitement inciting further buzzing. "Let's look it up! Practice can wait."
Everyone agrees eagerly, but their gazes quickly shift towards a quiet figure by the window. She has milky, delicate skin that seems to glow under the light and wears a lingering, bittersweet expression, similar to a squirrel anticipating the winter chill.
Sensing the collective gaze, Charlotte turns and gives a quirky smile. "What are you all staring at me for? Go on, look it up!"
No sooner has she spoken than Sunny darts off to fetch a laptop. Back then, the title of "leader" still carries significant weight in Pretty Generation.
The group crowds around the laptop, their excitement palpable. Quietly, a figure approaches the window, her chestnut curls cascading down her shoulders, her fitted shirt showing off her elegant curves, and her jeans perfectly outlining her long, toned legs.
"Bottling up worries for too long will make you sick," she says softly, her clear eyes filled with concern. "Hey, Charlotte, sometimes talking it out helps, you know?"
Charlotte Winston is known for her quirky and effervescent spirit, especially when she debuted as the group's leader. Her lively energy is so infectious that just a glance from her can lift anyone's mood. However, since the middle of last year, something has dimmed that sparkle. Though she remains cheerful on stage and in front of cameras, offstage, she has become a solitary figure, often gazing out of the window, lost in thought, her eyes clouded with melancholy.
"What could possibly be bothering me?" Charlotte laughs, though it sounds slightly forced, as she looks at Jessica approaching. "I'm fine, really. I just enjoy my alone time."
"Really?" Jessica's eyes glint with doubt.
Charlotte blinks, her eyes appearing as clear and bright as ever.
"Okay, I believe you," Jessica says with a sigh, though her doubts linger. Charlotte's artistic soul seems to awaken alongside her growing sadness, resulting in a dramatic improvement in her singing.
As Jessica ponders this, commotion erupts from the laptop group. Their search for the King Game fashion show yields scant information, leading them to question its legitimacy. A famous fashion show should have left some digital footprint.
Then, with a keen eye, Yuri spots a link on Instagram. "Vicky, could this be the King Game Studio you're talking about?"
As Sunny clicks the link, a bold headline flashes on the screen for all to see: "The Ultimate in Seduction: King Game!" accompanied by scandalous images.
A stunned silence grips the room—then Victoria bolts out, tears streaming down her face.
...
Meanwhile, in a modest rental house near the uptown commercial district, Sebastian has just returned from a renovation site, his gaze fixed on his computer screen as he monitors the stock market. The dim light casts a greenish hue on his face.
"Is this really not working?" Sebastian feels disheartened. He picks his stocks on instinct, disregarding conventional wisdom, and the results are far from promising. It seems he doesn't have a natural knack for stock trading.
"Do I really have to cheat to make money?" he ponders glumly, scrutinizing his account.
Suddenly, amidst the sea of red, he notices a solitary splash of green. "See? I do have some talent," he mutters with fragile confidence. But as quickly as his hope rises, it crashes—the pharmaceutical company he invested in disappears from his list. After some frantic searching, a quick Google check reveals the company has declared bankruptcy and been delisted.
...
"Maybe I really don't have a talent for this," Sebastian sighs. At that moment, his phone rings—it's Patrick.
"I hope this isn't more bad news," Sebastian mutters, already in a foul mood. Stock trading is his way of keeping busy despite his family's doubts.
On the other end, Patrick hesitates, picking up on Sebastian's impatience. "Well, it's not exactly bad news, just a little... complication!"