Noah sat in his tiny rented apartment, thinking about the day of the audition—Asher's nearness, the way he spoke to him.
It had been three days.
Still no news.
No confirmation. No rejection. Just silence.
Suddenly, his phone rang. Once, twice, three times.
He snapped out of his daze and looked at the screen.
A number he didn't recognize.
He hesitated, then answered. "…Hello?"
"Are you home?"
The voice on the other end was low and rough, familiar enough to make Noah's neck heat up.
His fingers tightened around the phone. He paused. "Asher?"
"It's me," the voice was steady. "Have you eaten?"
"No, not yet." Noah replied out of instinct, then caught himself quickly. "Why? Do you need something?"
"I do. I haven't eaten either. Come out. Let's talk."
Noah froze. Was that a request… or an order?
He didn't really dare say no.
Before he could answer, Asher added casually,
"Work-related."
Ten minutes later, a sleek black BMW pulled up outside the film set.
Noah slipped into the back seat, stealing a glance.
Tinted windows. Expensive smell. Clean leather.
And faint cologne.
His cologne.
Asher sat beside him, dressed in a black shirt. His profile was so sharp and perfect, Noah couldn't even look straight at it.
Asher didn't look at him. He simply lifted a hand and said,
"To the usual place."
The driver nodded, and the car pulled away smoothly.
Noah sat properly, hands on his knees.
He glanced at Asher again, then looked away.
His heart felt like a bunch of rabbits running wild.
He said it was work-related.
Was this about the audition?
But Asher didn't explain anything.
He leaned back, eyes closed, like he had all the time in the world.
Eventually, the car pulled into a high-end restaurant. A well-dressed host greeted them and led them to a private booth tucked away in the back.
The table was already set—steak, salad, and a bottle of red wine, freshly opened.
Asher sat down first, then poured Noah a glass of water with ease.
His voice was light, almost friendly.
"Steak okay with you?"
Noah nodded, voice quiet. "Yes. Thank you."
He felt like a guest suddenly pulled into a dinner party, being treated too nicely—
and somehow, that made him even more uncomfortable.
Asher looked up. "Do you always talk without making eye contact?"
Noah flinched and forced himself to lift his head.
Their eyes met.
And Asher's were cold—so pale they sent a chill through him.
Asher held the stare, then slowly spoke,
"Do you know why you were allowed to do the screen test with me?"
Noah's chest tightened.
"I… didn't I do okay?"
"You did." Asher took a sip of wine, voice low. "But not the best."
Noah bit his lip, unsure what that meant.
Then Asher suddenly smiled. Not like he was in a rush to get to the point. His words curved, slowed:
"You're good-looking. You look great on camera. Not the most gifted actor—but you have a certain… air about you."
Noah froze. His hands clenched around the water glass.
"That air of someone easy to mold," Asher went on calmly. "Someone made for being guided, tempted."
The tone was even, but every word felt like a hook—digging into Noah's chest, one by one.
Noah lowered his eyes. "Is that… why you brought me out here?"
Asher set the wine glass down. "I brought you here because I want to sign you."
Noah looked up, stunned.
"Sign me?" He almost laughed in disbelief. "You mean… your studio?"
"No." Asher's lips curled, his eyes burning with amusement. "I mean me. Personally."
The air seemed to still.
Noah forgot he was still holding his fork and knife.
Asher leaned back slightly. "Whatever resources you want—I can give. This drama's follow-up projects. Your lead roles. Even variety shows or music programs. All of it."
Noah held his breath.
"But the condition is—" Asher paused, eyes sharp, "you belong to me."
Noah's hand trembled. The knife wouldn't even cut the steak anymore.
He knew exactly what those words meant.
"…Are you serious?" He gave a dry laugh, trying to ease the tension. "Is this… a casting couch thing?"
"Does it feel like one?" Asher asked casually—but didn't deny it.
"I'm an idol," Noah said quietly. "My company wants me to keep a clean image."
"Then don't sign." Asher's voice remained steady. "But your current contract is ending soon, right?"
Noah's eyes widened. He looked up.
Asher was already looking at him. Silent. Waiting.
Noah's throat went dry. His fingertips turned cold.
He knew.
He had looked into him.
"You investigated me," Noah muttered.
"Call it advance research." Asher leaned his chin on his hand, looking relaxed. "I don't touch people who aren't worth it."
Something sank hard in Noah's chest.
So Asher's so-called 'interest'... was just because he looked the part?
Like picking out a new toy?
He looked down, not wanting Asher to see the sting in his eyes.
But Asher's voice came again, calm and even:
"You can say no. You can leave right now."
"But just know—" He leaned in a little, voice near Noah's ear, "what I'm offering you is a shortcut."
"Walk your own path, and who knows how many years it'll take."
Noah's palms were sweating.
His brain, oddly, was starting to clear.
He wasn't dumb.
He wasn't sure he'd been swayed.
But the offer—was too real.
Everyone knew what "belong to me" meant.
And in this world, people who would open a door for you were rare.
Someone like Asher didn't need to lie.
Noah took a slow breath. "Can I… think about it?"
Asher smiled. "Of course."
"I'm not… that kind of person," Noah said, lifting his eyes again. "I don't sell myself."
Asher didn't reply.
He just turned his wine glass slowly between his fingers.
After a few seconds, he finally said, "I know."
Noah blinked.
Asher stared at him a little longer, then added in a low voice—
"But if you do choose to be mine—
I'll make sure this deal… is worth it."
By the time they finished dinner, the sky was already dark.
Asher offered to drive him home.
When the car stopped, Noah hesitated before opening the door.
He hadn't said yes.
But he hadn't said no either.
Asher didn't pressure him.
He looked at him through the car window, voice light, almost teasing:
"Sleep on it."
"But—" he smiled, leaning lazily back, eyes lingering on Noah, "I suggest you don't take too long."
"Opportunities like this don't come every day."
The window slowly rolled up, cutting off the depth in Asher's gaze.
Noah stood there, hugging his bag to his chest, breath still shaky.
Was this… a partnership?
Or a deal?
Even he didn't know anymore.