"Forty-seven missed calls. A scandal exploding across every screen. And only one person who came to the door."
Minase Ren has it all—the face of a generation, a top-floor penthouse, and a "national sweetheart" image built to perfection. But when a tabloid drops photos of him in a secret date with his co-star, the internet turns on him overnight. There's just one problem: the photos are fake. And no one wants to hear it.
Trapped in his apartment, drowning in hate and missed calls from the peopl
In the Night of the Scandal, With You - The Vice President's Smile — A Violent Scandal and Bonds Torn Apart
The Shibuya sky was overcast again, same as ever.
As Ren passed through the entrance of Aozora Tower, the receptionist's unchanging smile only made him feel more out of place. Every time he'd come to this building over the past month, he'd felt himself becoming a little more of a "has-been."
"Good morning."
He managed a strangled greeting and headed for the elevator. His fingers unconsciously found the cuff of his suit sleeve.
(What are they going to tell me today?)
A month ago, that fabricated scandal had set the world ablaze, and all of Ren's work had stopped dead. Commercials were pulled, film projects wiped clean. The agency had forced him into a state of house arrest they called "voluntary suspension of activities."
And now, out of nowhere, a summons this morning.
Destination: the eighth floor. The executive floor.
Ren noticed his finger trembling slightly as he pressed the elevator button.
(Pathetic.)
He laughed at himself inwardly.
Minase Ren, national heartthrob actor. Twenty-five years old. Once, riding this elevator up to the top-floor studio had been routine. Now he was a man summoned by executives.
The elevator came to a quiet stop on the eighth floor.
When the doors opened, it was another world.
A corridor blanketed in heavy carpet. The walls were lined with old posters chronicling Aozora's history and photographs of the studio's legendary stars. The air was cold and still, and Ren's footsteps echoed far too loudly.
"This way, Minase-san."
A young receptionist guided him, her face tight with nerves.
Ren followed her deeper down the hall.
"Vice President Kamiya is waiting for you."
Ren's heart gave a hard thud.
Kamiya Tooru.
Vice President of Aozora Entertainment. Forty-eight. Gray-flecked black hair slicked back, eyes sharp and narrow. Publicly, he was known as one of the industry's voices of reason—but Ren had always sensed a cold calculation behind that smile.
(Never let your guard down around this man.)
Ren steeled himself.
The receptionist knocked on the heavy wooden door.
"Vice President Kamiya, I've brought Minase-san."
"Come in."
A gentle voice answered from within.
Ren took a deep breath and opened the door.
The room was larger than he'd imagined.
A huge window offered a panoramic view of Shibuya. One entire wall of bookshelves was packed with industry magazines and business books. A luxurious leather sofa and a massive desk. A faint scent of expensive incense hung in the air.
And in the center of it all, Kamiya sat waiting.
"Ah, Ren-kun. Glad you could come."
Kamiya welcomed him with a soft smile.
His salt-and-pepper hair was immaculately groomed, as always. His narrow eyes were somehow more unfathomable when he was smiling. On the ring finger of his left hand, an old scar showed white.
"It's been a while, Vice President Kamiya."
Ren bowed deeply.
"No need to be so formal. Today I just wanted to have a nice, long talk with you. Here—sit."
Kamiya gestured to the sofa across from him.
Ren sat as instructed. The sofa was soft, almost swallowing him.
"Would you like some tea? It's gyokuro I had a friend send me. The aroma is wonderful."
Kamiya began preparing the tea with practiced ease, his movements like those of a tea ceremony master.
"...Thank you."
Ren accepted the offered cup.
A sweet, deep fragrance rose with the steam. Ren took a single sip.
"How is it?"
"...Delicious."
"I thought so. I knew someone with your sensibility would appreciate it."
Kamiya nodded, satisfied.
"Ren-kun."
Kamiya spoke quietly.
"This past month must have been truly hard on you. I've been genuinely worried about you, you know."
Kamiya's voice was endlessly kind.
"You're the face of our company. The face of Aozora. Without you, this agency wouldn't stand."
"...Thank you."
Ren bowed his head.
(What is this man getting at?)
His wariness only deepened.
"So, the thing is—"
Kamiya set his teacup on the table and looked at Ren directly.
"I wanted to talk a little about your future."
"My future?"
"Yes. The agency wants to put this scandal to rest as quickly as possible. To that end, you'll need to step away from the public eye for a while."
"...I'm already prepared for that."
Ren answered quietly.
"I see. That's just like you, Ren-kun."
Kamiya narrowed his eyes.
"By the way, your manager... Tachibana Hinata-kun, was it?"
At the sudden name, Ren's shoulder twitched.
"He's excellent. He supports you well. I hear that even after the scandal, he's been working himself to the bone for your sake."
"...Yes. I'm grateful to him."
Ren answered, feigning calm.
(Why bring up Hinata's name here?)
Something stirred in his chest.
"You two were senpai and kouhai in university, I hear. Ah, so that's why he's so devoted."
Kamiya's narrow eyes opened, just for an instant.
"No, it's a wonderful relationship. In this industry, you rarely find someone you can trust that much. You're blessed."
"...Yes."
A one-word answer was all Ren could manage.
Kamiya watched him in silence for a while, as if enjoying his reaction.
"Ren-kun."
Kamiya spoke again.
"You're thinking of exposing the truth behind that article yourself, aren't you?"
Ren's heart leaped.
"...Yes. I can't just stay silent. That article was a complete fabrication. I will clear the truth, no matter what."
Ren spoke clearly.
Kamiya stared into his eyes for a moment.
"I'm telling you this for your own good—"
Kamiya's voice dropped slightly.
"—it's better if you don't make any moves."
"...What do you mean?"
"In this industry, once a fire is lit, trying to put it out yourself only makes it spread. Right now, doing nothing is your best defense. Trust me, and lie low for a while."
Kamiya's mouth was smiling. But his eyes weren't smiling at all.
"...Understood."
Ren fell silent.
(There's no point saying anything to this man.)
Ren pretended to accept Kamiya's words.
But in his heart, he was thinking something entirely different.
(I have to move on my own.)
Ren left Kamiya's office.
The moment he stepped into the hallway, the tension released and he exhaled deeply.
His back was soaked with sweat.
(Bringing up Hinata's name—was that some kind of warning?)
Ren mulled it over as he headed for the elevator.
(Or just petty harassment?)
Either way, the fact that Kamiya had taken an interest in Hinata made Ren uneasy.
(Hinata has nothing to do with this. I won't drag him into it. Never.)
Ren resolved firmly.
He got in the elevator and pressed the button for the first floor.
Just before the doors closed, Ren pulled out his phone.
He typed a name into the search bar.
"Scoop Japan."
A weekly magazine. The very people who'd written that fabricated article.
A deep amber light kindled in Ren's eyes.
(I'll find out for myself.)
Ren exited the elevator and strode quickly out of the tower.
Under the cloudy sky, Shibuya was as noisy as ever.
Ren slipped into the crowd and headed for Shimbashi.
A multi-tenant building in Shimbashi.
The Scoop Japan editorial office was on the fourth floor.
Ren stood before the building.
An old building with no sign out front. The entrance listed the names of several companies.
"...So this is it."
Ren clenched his fist.
(I'm about to walk into enemy territory.)
He knew it was reckless.
But he couldn't stand staying still any longer.
Ren entered the building.
He took the elevator to the fourth floor.
When the doors opened, he was met with a cluttered space that smelled of cigarette smoke and ink.
"Excuse me, is Editor-in-Chief Iwatsuki here?"
Ren called out to a young employee nearby.
The employee's eyes went wide when he saw Ren's face.
"M-Minase... Ren...?"
"Yes. I'm here to talk."
At those words, the employee scrambled toward the back.
After a moment, a man emerged from the back room.
"Well, well. Minase Ren-san. Nice of you to come."
Iwatsuki Makoto. Editor-in-chief of Scoop Japan.
A pudgy man with thinning hair combed backward and a friendly, ingratiating smile. But his eyes gleamed sharply, like a predator that had spotted its prey.
"Coming all the way to a dump like this. Please, come in."
Iwatsuki led Ren deeper into the office.
The editorial office was a disaster zone.
Desks were buried under piles of documents and photographs, and the walls were plastered with countless article clippings.
"Man, was I surprised. I never thought you'd show up in person."
Iwatsuki seated Ren in front of his desk and settled into the chair across from him.
"I'll get straight to the point."
Ren looked Iwatsuki dead in the eye.
"Where did you get the photos for that article? It was a complete fabrication. I've never been to a place like that, and I've never met Mizuhara-san alone."
Ren's voice trembled with anger.
"Whoa, calm down. A star like you shouldn't get so emotional."
Iwatsuki wore a smug smile.
"We obtained those photos from a reliable source. We verified them thoroughly. Fabrication? Absolutely not."
"Verified? Don't make me laugh. Those photos were doctored. Even an amateur could tell. You people took money and wrote a lie."
Ren leaned forward.
"Do you have proof? If you're going to say that, show me your proof."
Iwatsuki's mouth twisted into a smirk.
At that moment, Iwatsuki's hand brushed against a microphone sitting on the desk.
Clatter.
The microphone fell to the floor.
"Oh, my apologies."
Iwatsuki said it with exaggerated regret and made no move to pick it up.
Then he called out to the cameraman in the corner of the room.
"Did you get that just now?"
"Huh?"
The cameraman had his camera raised.
"Just now, Minase Ren slammed my desk. That's violence. Keep filming."
"What?"
Ren couldn't process what was happening.
"What are you talking about? I didn't touch your desk."
"No, you did. Just now, you slammed this desk—BAM! You committed an act of violence against me."
Iwatsuki writhed theatrically.
"Are you getting this?! Minase Ren, assault! A national star goes on a rampage in a weekly magazine's editorial office!"
Iwatsuki shouted loud enough to fill the entire office.
"What the—!"
Ren shot to his feet.
"That's not true! It's a setup! You planned this from the start—!"
Ren instinctively put his hand on the desk.
BANG!
"Violence! That sound just now! Everyone heard it! Minase Ren assaulted me!"
Iwatsuki grabbed Ren's arm and bellowed theatrically.
"Let go of me!"
Ren shook off Iwatsuki's hand.
In that instant, a flash went off.
Click, click, click.
The editorial staff all began snapping photos of Ren with their phones and cameras.
"Minase Ren, assault!"
"He attacked the editor-in-chief!"
"Call the police!"
"No! That's not what happened! This is a trap!"
Ren shouted.
But his voice was drowned out by the storm of flashes and the jeers of the staff.
"Now, please leave. If you stay any longer, I really will call the police."
Iwatsuki shoved Ren out of the office.
Powerless, Ren was dumped into the hallway of the multi-tenant building.
The door slammed shut behind him.
"Damn it... damn it!"
Ren punched the wall.
A dull pain shot through his fist.
(I've been set up.)
Ren sank down where he stood.
(I've been played. Again.)
The next day.
"Minase Ren Assaults Weekly Magazine Staff! Grabs Editor-in-Chief by the Collar!"
The headline tore across the internet.
Social media erupted in an instant.
#ViolentActor #MinaseRenIsFinished #WorstImage
Ren's phone rang nonstop from morning on.
"...Again."
Ren sat in his apartment at Lumière Tower, staring blankly at his phone screen.
Same as a month ago. No—worse. Far more hopeless.
"Minase Ren to Have Contract Terminated—Aozora Entertainment Considering"
That news was circulating too.
Ren sank deep into the sofa and stared at the ceiling.
(It's over.)
Inside him, something crumbled with a sound.
Then his phone buzzed.
Hinata's name on the screen.
Ren hesitated for a moment about answering.
But he couldn't.
(If I hear Hinata's voic
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