Jong-kook's face twisted into a malicious grin as he declared,
"No modeling agency, TV, or radio station will dare play anything from him at my command. All the top producers and song-writers are in my pocket. He'll never truly become famous as long as I will it."
Catherine's eyes narrowed, her despising of Jong-kook deepening with every word he uttered. As she watched him preen and posture, her inner thoughts churned.
'Yes, the media world is still controlled by TV and radio,' she mused, 'but with the advent of the internet and social media, their monopoly is on its last days. Yet Jong-kook and the Sinclairs seem to be holding onto their past glory.'
She shifted in her seat, her face a mask of neutrality even as her mind raced.
'Even my own family, the Vanderbilts, doesn't seem to understand that the world has become much more open. People are sick of having cultural norms dictated to them.'
Catherine's gaze drifted to the window, her reflection staring back at her.
'All it takes is the last straw to break the camel's back,' she thought. 'And even though I'm on opposing sides with Brandon, I can't help but acknowledge the path he's taking.'
A sense of frustration welled up inside her. Here she was, trapped by family allegiances, forced to align with people like Jong-kook and Darrell. She was wise enough to recognize the changing landscape, yet powerless to act on that knowledge.
'How long can we cling to old power structures?' she wondered. 'Brandon might just be the catalyst for change that this industry needs.'
Catherine's lips curled into a subtle smirk as she watched Jong-kook's display.
"Childish," she murmured, her voice barely audible.
"And delusional."
Jong-kook's head snapped towards her, his eyes blazing with fury.
"What did you say?" he hissed, his face contorting with rage.
Catherine met his gaze unflinchingly, her composure a stark contrast to his agitation.
"I said you're being childish and delusional," she repeated, her voice steady and clear.
The room fell silent, tension crackling in the air. Darrel's eyes darted between Catherine and Jong-kook, unsure of what to say.
Jong-kook's nostrils flared as he took a step towards Catherine.
"How dare you?" he snarled, his fists clenching at his sides.
"You forget your place, Vanderbilt. Your family owes allegiance to the Sinclairs. Or have you forgotten that?"
Catherine stood her ground, her hazel eyes cold and unimpressed.
"You're as much a mutt to me as Devon is to you," she replied coolly.
"Don't speak on our families when you haven't the right to bear one of our names. Besides, what's in question is your grasp on reality."
Jong-kook's face flushed an angry red.
"My grasp on reality?" he spat.
"I control the entire media landscape! I can make or break careers with a single word!"
"And yet," Catherine countered, her voice dripping with disdain, "you're throwing a tantrum over one upstart musician. If your control was as absolute as you claim, why does Brandon Blackstone worry you so much?"
Jong-kook's eyes widened, a vein pulsing in his forehead.
He jabbed a finger in Catherine's direction.
"You... you're questioning my power? My influence?"
He whirled around, addressing Darrel.
"Are you hearing this? Is she siding with the enemy now?"
"Enough!" Darrel barked, his eyes darting between the two.
"We're on the same side here, remember? BMG is the real enemy."
He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his movements jittery and erratic.
"Brandon Blackstone and his wild claims at BMG – that's what we need to focus on. Not this petty bullshit."
Jong-kook glared at Darrel, his jaw clenched tight. But after a moment, he let out a long, shaky breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.
As the tension in the room subsided, Jong-kook's flamboyant facade, which had completely disappeared in his anger, slowly began to reassert itself. He smoothed down his designer shirt and cleared his throat, his voice regaining some of its usual affected tone.
"Speaking of key players," Jong-kook said, his eyes narrowing, "why isn't the Windsor princess here?"
Darrel shrugged, his movements still jittery.
"The only reply I got was that she didn't want to get involved."
Jong-kook's face fell, his expression darkening.
"We'll have to get rid of her too, then," he muttered, almost to himself.
Darrel leaned forward, his eyes darting nervously.
"Have you dealt with the judges?" he asked, his voice low and urgent.
Jong-kook let out a mirthless laugh.
"Apparently, NOA isn't a regular place where results can be bought," he explained with frustration in his voice.
"The best I could do was to encourage kinder words for our side."
Darrel erupted, his face contorting with anger.
"What? That's all?? We only have a day left… With all that we've invested—"
Jong-kook cut him off with a sharp gesture.
"I have managed to push Gerald Sinclair to become the third judge of the competition," he said, a hint of venom creeping into his voice.
Darrel nodded slowly, processing the information. Then he asked,
"Doesn't Gerald despise you till no end?"
Jong-kook snickered, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"Gerald might be a pompous elitist, but Sinclair Music was his baby before the family passed it to me. Plus, he hates Devon even more, and Brandon and his BMG group stand against everything he represents..."
Darrel nodded slowly, a grin spreading across his face as he processed Jong-kook's words. The pieces were falling into place, and their plan seemed to be coming together.
"Looks like things are in order then," he said, his voice laced with satisfaction.
With the tension in the room dissipating, Darrel's attention shifted to Catherine.
He smoothed back his disheveled hair and adjusted his designer shirt, trying to make himself more presentable.
His eyes, still slightly glazed from whatever substance he'd been indulging in earlier, fixed on Catherine with newfound interest.
"Catherine," he began, his voice taking on a smoother, more ingratiating tone.
"I'm glad you could be a part of our alliance."
He edged his chair closer to hers, leaning in with what he clearly thought was a charming smile. The scent of expensive cologne mingled with the faint smell of alcohol on his breath.
"You know, we should discuss our strategies more... privately," Darrel continued, his hand inching towards Catherine's on the table.
"Perhaps over dinner? I know this exquisite little place..."
Catherine's clear hazel eyes flicked to Darrel's approaching hand, then back to his face. Her expression remained impassive, but a flicker of disgust passed through her eyes.
Undeterred, Darrel pressed on, his smile widening.
"Come on, Catherine. We're all on the same team here. A little... closer cooperation could benefit us all, don't you think?"
Catherine, however, remained unmoved.
Her cold gaze swept over both men, contempt evident in every line of her face.
"Let's be clear about one thing," she said, her voice as sharp as ice.
"I'm here because my family insists on this... alliance."
She spat the word out like it left a bad taste in her mouth.
"But make no mistake – I despise you both."
She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms.
"Darrel, you're a pathetic excuse for a human being, let alone a businessman. And Jong-kook," her lips curled into a sneer, "try hard as you may, but the distance between us and people like you is insurmountable."
Both men bristled at her words, but Catherine continued undeterred.
"However, for now, our interests align. So I'll play along with this farce. But don't for a second think that makes us friends or allies beyond this specific goal."