Peerless Perverted Actor Has a Celebrity Harem?!

His posts were doing better too:

Some were pictures of him sitting inside cars, laughing with the girls or eating somewhere expensive enough to have food portions designed by architects. Others were quiet walks, random photos around the Towers or outings with Jessie, whose comments had slowly become entertainment of their own.

Park had started calling her a little menacein captions.

Jessie responded with blushing emojis😊, fake complaints or comments about how much fun she’d had that day.

Naturally, people began assuming things given how many of the elites were posting him, tagging him and being in photos with them almost intimate.

The internet had never met a man and women capable of eating lunch together without assigning them three children and a divorce within 48 hours.

Some posts were shamelessly pointless with Park looking at the sky because one of the girls insisted the angle was good, Park sitting in a library pretending he hadn’t noticed the camera, Park leaning against a car,Park wearing sunglasses and existing near architecture while being offensively attractive.

’Apparently handsome men contemplating clouds is content. Imagine my surprise.’

The posts Park actually cared about were the musical ones.

They were just a few short clips of him at a piano playing and singing, one with a guitar while he played around with a melody, some Quinn had taken without telling him and posted them catching Park sitting with a notebook across one knee scribbling lyrics while quietly singing through several lines until he found something he liked.

Those clips performed particularly well.

Park or rather Emmeline or Quinn tagged NX Arc on nearly everything career-related because the agency had asked him to while they slowly prepared his proper public introduction. NX’s official account frequently liked his posts, and whoever managed their socials occasionally commented under his singing or instrument clips.

That was enough and people had started putting the pieces together themselves.

Nathaniel Park. NX Arc. Actor. Possibly singer too. New signing.

Rumors were doing free advertising, and Park saw absolutely no reason to interrupt employees who worked for free.

There were haters too.

Apparently.

But Park barely knew they existed.

Most were small accounts screenshotting photos of him surrounded by different girls and calling him a playboy, rich-boy social climber, pretty face, mysterious NX nepo project or whatever combination of words currently bought engagement.

Emmeline handled most of his socials anyway, while Quinn filtered anything actually worth Park’s attention.

Nobody replied the haters of course.

Why argue with some random bastard when his angry repost might introduce Nathaniel Park to another 800 people for free?

Very generous of him.

Even Sloane had noticed the pattern.

She had already informed the relevant people at NX that Park was somehow closely connected to a small circle of extremely powerful young elites, mostly because the agency needed to know before one innocent restaurant photo became tomorrow morning’s entertainment-news headache.

Sloane had asked him how exactly he’d managed to fall into that circle.

Park told her he’d bumped into them while shopping around two months earlier.

Technically true.

She had stared at him for a few seconds, clearly aware several Chapters were missing from that explanation, then decided not to drag them out of him.

Good manager.

Some things did not need a fucking PowerPoint presentation.

Meanwhile, Park had been relentlessly feeding CJ music.

She and MJ still hadn’t returned his original notebook, though by now Park barely cared. Drowned Library meant every line inside it already lived inside his head anyway.

Instead, he kept sending more; lyrics, melodies and occasionally rough recorded references when explaining something in writing would have been annoying, although he never casually dropped unreleased material into ordinary phone messages like somebody begging to become a piracy cautionary tale.

Paranoid? Absolutely.

Park had already died once.

He considered paranoia a hobby with practical benefits.

Quinn handled some of the physical deliveries and Jacobs had carried a few sealed packages too, although Park trusted the man about as far as he could throw one of Alexander’s armored government cars. Quinn assured him the deliveries were secure, and Jacobs himself didn’t know what the packages actually contained.

Good enough.

If it went wrong, Park could always haunt somebody. He’d had practice.

CJ herself had started proper recording sessions at NX roughly a week after the audition.

And apparently the woman had decided the studio was her new legal residence.

She called Park constantly, sometimes MJ was nearby but sometimes Park could hear producers, musicians or engineers talking somewhere behind her while CJ whispered into the phone as though they were discussing classified military operations instead of choruses.

By now, she had recorded main vocals, harmonies, ad-libs and whatever other little pieces the producers wanted for her12 songs.

Twelve!

Some had already gone through most of production but other songs were still being mixed or mastered while a few were being revised after somebody changed their mind, which Park had quickly learned appeared to be one of the entertainment industry’s favorite hobbies.

Then CJ casually dropped the thing that made him sit upright in bed.

Her debut was coming soon!

Very fucking soon.

She sounded so excited during the call that Park spent most of it smiling while MJ repeatedly shouted from somewhere nearby for her sister to calm the fuck down before she passed out prior to becoming famous.

Park was happy for her.

Proud too, although he wasn’t going to get sentimental enough to announce that unnecessarily.

What annoyed him was that NX still hadn’t invited him into any of CJ’s recording or production sessions despite the arrangement he’d fought for during negotiations.

Nor had they called him for those two creative days every two weeks they had insisted they wanted from him so he understod they could not pay him for when he hasn’t worked.

His own career had been busy enough, and there was no point charging into NX demanding work like some desperate intern when he knew perfectly well the agency had plans for him.

Besides, that finally changed that afternoon when Sloane called while Park was sitting beside the enormous windows in his room, notebook balanced over one thigh as he worked his way through several half-finished lines. She barely bothered with small talk before telling him she’d forwarded his studio schedule, and Park’s pen slowed immediately.

"Studio schedule?"

"For tomorrow. NX wants you there at 10:00."

That got the pen completely off the page.

His phone buzzed while they were still talking, and Park opened the message Sloane had forwarded. NX wanted him at the agency at 10:00 AM sharp, with one or two original songs he wanted considered for his first recording session. Recording and production were scheduled throughout the day, and they wanted him prepared to stay for the whole thing.

Park read through it again, his attention drifting almost automatically toward the notebook on his thigh. Choosing the songs wasn’t going to be difficult because he already had several he thought were good enough to walk into a professional studio with. Velvet Vice was there, along with After Midnight, Pretty Little Disaster, Halfway to Heaven.

There were others too, although some of those were staying exactly where they were for now.

NX had only just gotten him under contract. The greedy bastards did not need immediate access to every song currently living inside his head.

A grin slowly worked its way across his face anyway.

Fuck.

Finally.

For weeks, his career had consisted of contracts, lawyers, negotiations, training, writing tens of songs, social media, meetings and endless conversations about what Nathaniel Park might eventually become. Even after officially signing with one of the biggest entertainment agencies in the Empire, the whole thing had still felt strangely theoretical in places, like everyone around him was preparing a very expensive stage while refusing to let the actor onto it.

Tomorrow was different.

Tomorrow Park was walking into NX Arc to start doing his own music, stepping behind a professional microphone and actually recording the first song of his career. They were going to produce it, tear it apart if necessary, build it back up, and by the time he came home tomorrow night there might finally be a real Nathaniel Park record sitting on somebody’s computer instead of another song trapped inside one of his notebooks.

Park glanced at the 10:00 AM arrival time again and laughed under his breath.

"About fucking time."

Tomorrow was finally going to be fun.

Visit and read more novel to help us update chapter quickly. Thank you so much!