⌧ 𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 || ᴅᴇʙᴜᴛ ᴏ. ᴅɪᴇ × ᴛʀᴀsʜ/ʟᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴄғ.

𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐄 𝟎𝟎𝟎 || ʏᴏᴜ sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴍᴜsᴛ...

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        ⃢                                        𝐂𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄    
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In life, there comes a moment when you must rise to the occasion.

It may not be a choice you desire, but rather a necessity that beckons you forward.

Sometimes, you are called to step up not because you want to, but because you simply must...

A young man with hair like freshly spilled blood, his face exuding a divinity, and eyes resembling the rich hue of red earth, gazed upon the once illustrious entertainment industry with a heart heavy with questions. "What has transpired...?" he whispered softly.

"Much has transpired..." a strong elder man replied beside him, his benign smile masking the fury he carried within. "Young Master, White Star Co. showed no mercy, and this is the result," Ron Molran lamented as he guided the fragile yet beautiful young man.

As he glanced at his phone, the young man was confronted with a series of scandals that had led to the downfall of Molran Entertainment. The departure of all its artists foretold the inevitable fate of the company, destined to be lost to the annals of time and remembered only as a blemish on the industry.

Under his breath, the young man whispered, "Crazy bastard." Cale was acquainted with the Head of the faltering company, someone who had cared for him when his father was preoccupied with the family business. "Ron, where is Vicross?" he inquired, his gaze scanning the all-too-believable scandals that had plagued the company.

"He is currently exploring alternate means to salvage our situation," Ron responded with composure. "Unfortunately, the rapid pace of events may force us to consider shutting down the company," he lamented. Cale gazed at him, a momentary furrow appearing on his brow before disappearing just as swiftly, too fleeting for the average observer to catch, or perhaps only discernible to those attuned to the extraordinary.

Cale and Ron strolled along gracefully, eventually finding themselves settled in the opulent confines of the main office. Cale's gaze was fixed on the magnificent white tower that stood tall and proud in the distance.

As he took a sip of lemon tea, his demeanor was calm, but underneath the surface, he was unraveling. "Thank you for the tea," Cale uttered softly, his eyes meeting Ron's briefly before he swiftly drained the cup in one gulp.

Ron gathered the empty cup, his gaze knowing as he regarded his young master. Cale was a vision of beauty, a mesmerizing sight that could rival the most exquisite of creatures. His crimson locks stood out vividly against his translucent complexion, his slender form emanating a quiet strength that belied his fragile appearance.

"Would you care for more, Young Master?" Ron inquired, a soft chuckle escaping him as he noted the subtle shift in Cale's otherwise impassive expression.

Cale stared at the glass of lemon tea in front of him, feeling a sense of resignation wash over him. He took a hesitant sip, the tartness almost causing him to recoil, but he swallowed it down, unwilling to offend Ron, who had kindly prepared the drink. As he struggled with the sour taste, Ron's unexpected question caught him off guard.

"Young Master, have you ever contemplated a career as an idol?" Ron's soft laughter floated through the air, contrasting with Cale's internal conflict. Shaking his head in disbelief, Cale couldn't help but scoff at the idea. "What a preposterous suggestion," he muttered, his words muffled by the unpleasant liquid in his mouth. Ron's chuckle only intensified, his eyes sparkling with amusement.