World B — The Offer
"I haven't had sex before."
Emma William's voice trembled as she sat on the edge of the black leather couch, her expression heavy with worry.
She wore a sleeveless cashmere-white gown that clung softly to her delicate frame, giving her an innocent, almost fragile look. Her dark hair was tied back into a neat ponytail, and her teary eyes shimmered beneath the light like glass on the verge of breaking.
Beside her sat Charlotte, a woman in her early thirties, her short, light-red bob styled to perfection. Her fitted A-line gown accentuated every curve she had—neither too much nor too little—carrying the effortless confidence of someone who knew how to get what she wanted.
The two were inside the hotel suite assigned to Emma—one of the shortlisted nominees for the female lead role in a movie that was already stirring massive public anticipation.
The catch?
The final decision rested solely with the male idol—the one everyone worshipped like a god on screen and the film's top sponsor. His word was final.
He was the man every woman fantasized about but none dared to approach. Cold, temperamental, and impossible to offend.
And tonight, Emma's manager wanted her to do the unthinkable.
Charlotte had told her to go to his suite… and sleep with him.
Then, after the deed was done, demand the lead role as her reward.
But Emma was terrified.
She was a virgin. She didn't even know how to begin—nor did she want to.
"After everything I did to get a copy of his room card—and all the effort I put into getting you nominated—you want to waste it all?" Charlotte's tone was sharp with irritation.
Emma's heartbeat thundered in her chest. The mere thought of disappointing her manager made her palms turn clammy.
Charlotte's voice hardened. "Just because you managed to get those second female lead roles without using your body, you think you're untouchable?"
Emma shook her head quickly, tears spilling over. She wasn't untouchable—she was helpless.
Charlotte exhaled slowly, her gaze softening as she looked at the trembling girl before her. There was no denying it—Emma was flawless. Too flawless.
If she weren't so timid, Charlotte might have felt threatened by her. Instead, she saw opportunity.
A human jackpot.
Charlotte reached out, brushing her thumb over Emma's wet cheek, wiping away a tear with gentle precision.
"Emma," she murmured, her voice now syrupy and persuasive, "I have high expectations for you. I wouldn't make you sleep with just anyone. This—" she leaned closer, lowering her tone, "—this will benefit you. Believe me when I say it, Emma. This movie will change your life."
She pulled Emma into a light embrace. The warmth felt suffocating.
Emma broke. Silent sobs shook her body as she clung to Charlotte's shoulder.
She knew she couldn't avoid it. Deep down, she understood that Charlotte wasn't entirely wrong.
The film was an erotica.
The audience had demanded it—specifically, that their idol take the male lead. They wanted to live through the heroine's eyes, to be her, to feel what he would do to her.
That was why he insisted on choosing his co-star himself.
Despite starring in countless romantic dramas, he was famous for avoiding real physical intimacy on screen. His performances were passionate but calculated—camera angles always shielding what couldn't be shown. When his back was to the camera, or his partner's face turned away, the illusion remained—but it wasn't real. The audience noticed.
They wanted real.
The movie was an adaptation of a viral web novel titled Sex Addicted Boyfriend—a steamy romance that had taken the internet by storm.
In the story, the male lead's obsession with sex ruled his relationship. His girlfriend didn't mind—until fear crept in. She began to wonder if love alone kept him around or if their nights together were the only thread binding them.
When she tried to hint at marriage, he brushed it off. Desperate, she began to reject him whenever his desire rose, knowing it was the only time she had power over him.
The novel was provocative, addictive, and filled with mature scenes that made readers blush—and they wanted that fire brought to life on screen.
And they wanted him as the male lead.
At first, he refused. But fame came with chains. No matter how untouchable an artist seemed, fans were the true gods of the industry. Without them, even the brightest star would fade.
He knew this. Everyone did.
So, in the end, for his fans—he agreed.
His agency was thrilled. The audience exploded with anticipation. The film was guaranteed to be a success.
And for Emma, being chosen as the female lead could change everything—her career, her family's life, even her future.
But at what cost?
Her lips quivered as she whispered, "But once I lose my virginity… it'll be gone forever."
Her words were soft, but they hit the air like fragile glass—heard, but impossible to take back.