Peerless Perverted Actor Has a Celebrity Harem?!

The assistant who had fetched Park had already given him enough of a rundown that he wasn’t completely blind when the elevator opened onto NX Arc’s fifth floor.

The music sector of the agency occupied two entire floors of the building.

The fifth floor was where artists were allowed to actually live with music before somebody upstairs started turning it into a product.

There were practice rooms everywhere, some built for solo singers and others large enough for groups, songwriting lounges with whiteboards and digital composition screens, instrument rooms carrying enough guitars, keyboards, violins, drums, basses and stranger things Park couldn’t immediately name to probably fund a small school, rehearsal spaces, soundproof booths for vocal practice, little rest lounges, and even several rooms deliberately designed to look less corporate because, according to the assistant, artists apparently became allergic to inspiration when surrounded by too much office furniture.

The sixth floor was where things became serious.

Recording studios, production suites, mixing rooms, mastering rooms, vocal booths, live instrument rooms and sound engineering stations.

Today’s music auditions, however, had been moved to the fifth.

Park followed the assistant through another set of glass doors before she stopped outside a wide hall and gestured for him to enter.

The room was much larger than he’d expected.

It looked less like an audition room; a raised stage occupied the front, with a standing microphone already waiting beneath the lights. Behind it sat a polished black piano, a keyboard workstation, two guitars resting on stands, an acoustic and an electric, a compact drum kit farther back, and several other pieces of equipment ready in case an applicant had decided singing alone wasn’t enough suffering for one afternoon.

There was also a camera with a proper professional setup stood several metres from the stage, lens pointed directly toward the microphone, its tiny red light already glowing.

Park’s eyes lingered on it.

’Right.’

Mick had mentioned that some of NX Arc’s real monsters would be interested in today’s intake.

Apparently they weren’t interested enough to sit downstairs with everyone else.

Somewhere in this building, probably in one of those expensive rooms filled with screens and people who could end careers between coffee sips, they were watching these auditions live.

’Fun.’

Park turned his attention toward the people who had been unfortunate enough to evaluate him in person.

There were eight of them.

He recognized the New Talent Manager almost immediately, a man somewhere in his thirties, neatly dressed without looking painfully corporate with tablet resting beside one hand and the tired-but-alert expression.

Beside him sat an older man Park guessed had to be the senior vocal coach before anybody introduced him; a small electronic keyboard sat directly in front of him, several pages covered in vocal-range markings were clipped to a board beside his chair, and he had the mildly terrifying posture.

There was also the woman the assistant had specifically pointed out as A&R.

’Music executive.’

She looked somewhere in her thirties, perhaps a little older, sharp suit, cleaner expression, tablet open in front of her. Her job, from what Park understood, wasn’t simply to decide whether somebody could sing.

She has to decide whether anybody actually cares that they can.’

The remaining five were producers and NX Arc’s main lead composers.

Two women and three men.

And unlike the generic staff Park had seen moving around the building, he actually recognized two of their faces from his memories as one of the big names in the industry and the enormous music advertisements and industry pieces he’d stumbled across since coming to this world.

They were some of the people responsible for keeping NX Arc’s music division alive.

The assistant had called them the backbone of the agency’s production team. Writers, producers and composers whose work sat behind successful albums, charting singles and artists whose faces were probably currently larger than buildings somewhere in RoraWood.

’Freakishly talented people.’

Powerful too a rookie normally wanted desperately to impress.

Park walked forward, stopped at the marked position before the table and bowed politely.

"Good afternoon, I am Nathaniel Park."

The senior vocal coach’s eyebrow moved before Park had even straightened.

Park knew why almost immediately.

His speaking voice had changed since receiving Peerless Male Siren too; not into some ridiculous permanent singing voice, but there was a natural smoothness and resonance beneath it now that seemed to make trained ears pay attention before he had done anything worth paying attention to.

The coach glanced at the file in front of him:

"So you’re the one who said you sing and write songs too."

Park nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Actually," the New Talent Manager interrupted, looking toward the rest of them, "he registered for all three."

One of the producers looked over: "All three?"

"Acting, singing, songwriting." The manager tapped Park’s file. "He originally entered through acting. Passed with the highest internal assessment of that intake."

That changed several expressions... the manager continued, almost enjoying the attention he was getting himself now:

"Remember the rookie actor Assistant Director Lance praised?"

The A&R executive looked up properly.

"Him?"

"Him."

One of the male producers leaned backward in his chair and looked Park over again: "You got Lance to praise you?"

Park’s eyebrows rose slightly.

’So that’s her name... Lance, Assistant Director Lance who invited me to the party.’

The female producer beside him laughed. "That woman doesn’t praise people. She identifies flaws and occasionally forgets to insult you afterward."

Another producer looked at Park. "Boy, you’re something."

Park smiled politely. "I’m starting to hear that."

A couple of them laughed.

The men did not respond quite as easily.

’My Cursed Presence remains as fucking useful as ever.’

Nothing dramatic happened like suddenly hated him enough to throw a chair. It was subtler and, somehow, more annoying because of it. The male producer who had just complimented him still looked interested, but there was already a little challenge behind the look. Another man’s gaze lingered on Park’s face with that tiny tightening people developed when their brain had begun comparing before permission was granted.

The women were almost the opposite.

The A&R executive had been professionally neutral when he’d entered. She remained professional, but her attention had settled more firmly on him now. One of the female producers had stopped glancing between him and the file altogether and was simply looking at him when he spoke.

Cursed Attractive Presence... Marvelous Halo.

’And the unfortunate reality that my face does not exactly require supernatural assistance.’

He ignored all of it.

The New Talent Manager folded his hands. "You understand why we’re curious."

"I can guess."

"You’ve just passed an acting intake with unusually strong feedback, you’ve already been assigned a role, and now you’re sitting in front of our music team claiming you also sing and compose."

Park nodded.

"So let’s assume for a second you’re as good at music as you apparently are at acting. How exactly do you intend to manage both?"

"That’s actually the easy part."

The manager waited and so did everyone else.

Park smiled.

One of the male composers finally asked, "You’re not going to explain?"

"Not really... I haven’t found it difficult yet."

That got a few looks.

Park wasn’t being evasive for fun; there simply wasn’t much to explain. Acting and music did not feel like two mountains he needed to choose between. They felt like two things he wanted to do.

If schedules became insane later, then future Park could complain about it while sitting in whatever absurd mansion future Park had bought.

The senior vocal coach leaned forward slightly:

"Professional vocal training?"

"Not enough to explain what you’re about to hear."

Silence before Park’s brain caught up with his mouth.

’That sounded fucking terrible.’

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