"Ooh," Hyerin exclaimed, color returning to her face. "Let me see."
She opened her phone and looked for the latest news in entertainment.
"Articles are pouring in," she said. "Of course, it's the first drama by Director Dae-Jung Lee. Sophie Moon is also a well-known scriptwriter. Plus, there are two A-list actors involved. There must be a lot of interest."
'Celebrated Director Dae-Jung Lee confirms his first drama—Binsfeld's Seven Princes of Hell.'
'TVN to air Binsfeld's Seven Princes of Hell.'
'Produced by Elvin Production and set to air on TVN, Binsfeld's Seven Princes of Hell is a crime thriller written by Sophie Moon.'
'Binsfeld's Seven Princes of Hell will be starring veteran greats In-Su Kim and Su-Jin James.'
These were just some of the headlines.
"The response seems good," Hyerin muttered.
She put her phone down.
"How are you going to commute?" she asked. "Filming schedules don't care for convenience. Public transport won't work."
That question had been bothering Averie too.
"My advice would be to join an agency," Hyerin added.
But Averie shook his head.
He didn't like entertainment companies. The expression he wore when he first read about these corporations was that of disgust. Whether they were a small enterprise or a large firm didn't matter—in his opinion, they all exploited the artists.
There was a small number of companies that seemed to want what was best for everyone. Regardless, they did not care for the freedom of their artists.
Of course, that was just one side of the story, and Averie knew that. But he didn't like the other side of it either.
There were a good number of actors and musicians who did not deserve the popularity they enjoyed. A good face and a coy smile was all it took for some to rise to fame. Averie despised that.
'Without talent or ability, how do they not feel ashamed?' he wondered.
There were several actors whose acting—by Averie's standards—was atrocious at best. Yet somehow, they had large fandoms. Averie wanted to personally visit the homes of these fans to inform their parents of their child's lack of intellect. He had even prepared a few lines in his mind.
'I am sorry,' he would say, holding his hat pressed against his chest. 'It is with great sorrow that I must inform you that your child is dumb.' He would shed a tear with great effort. 'It might be hereditary.'
But that was all just a dream. Averie didn't have time for such endeavors.
A pleasant face wasn't a requirement to be a great actor, or so Averie believed. Most of the great actors of his previous world were either simply plain or outright ugly. A good face helped, of course—but it was by far the least important tool in an actor's repertoire.
'They are mass-produced,' Averie thought, looking at picture of actors of this era on his phone. 'I will have to demonstrate to the modern audience how graceful an actor really is.'
He stared into Hyerin's eyes.
"How much do you get paid?" he asked.
The number was smaller than he had imagined, and employee benefits did not make up for the low pay either. Averie's perception of big corporations was only deteriorating by the minute.
"Say it," Hyerin whispered.
Averie typed some numbers on his phone. "My appearance fee alone amounts to a year of your salary, and I also have a hefty savings account."
It might have come off a bit condescending, but Hyerin knew that's not what he meant.
"I would like you to work as my agent," he continued. "I will leave my schedule, transportation, and contract negotiations entirely up to you. You will receive the exact same amount you are currently being paid. Of course, once I earn more, your salary will be raised."
"It will be less stressful than your current job. Unlike your boss, I will treat you with the respect you deserve. Your work schedule will be the same as mine, and I won't interfere with your responsibilities."
Hyerin finished her beer in a single gulp and crushed the can.
"Oh god, thank you!" she yelled to the heavens.
But Averie didn't look pleased. 'No-no, you must thank Lucifer, sweetie.'
"You only needed to ask; why did you prepare such a long speech?" she exclaimed, producing what appeared to be a resignation letter. "You have no idea how many months I've carried this around. I couldn't resign because it would be the same working environment elsewhere."
She opened another can of beer.
"I can finally quit! I'm going to drink like an alcoholic tonight," she yelled, her hands in the air.
"You shouldn't."
"It's fine. You will take care of me even if I pass out, anyway."
She smiled like an idiot.
"Oh, and pay me only about seventy percent of my current salary. Less responsibility plus less stress means less pay, okay? And you are not paying me anything until you have received your first payment. I have savings too, you know."
She looked very excited and equally drunk.
"I'll go get my dad's old sedan before the table-read. He won't mind; it's sitting in his garage, anyway. He will be happy knowing an actor is using the car. I'll drive you around like a chauffeur. It will be so much fun."
She laughed gleefully.
"You just focus on acting; I'll take care of everything else." She waved the beer can around in drunken excitement. "I have made some connections in the industry, and you are a natural. We will have so much fun. Oh, what a good day."
Being able to work with her dearest friend was more meaningful to her than Averie could ever understand. All the frustration from being unable to help him when he was suffering from depression seemed to melt away.
It took a long time, but it felt like her friend was finally asking for help. She could contribute to his well-being now.
Watching her like that made Averie glad that he asked. He didn't need the support of a large corporation. And if there was ever trouble, he was deranged enough to solve it on his own.
What he needed was someone he could trust, and in just a few days, Hyerin had earned that trust.
'That's right; you should celebrate, girl. Today, you have hit the jackpot.'