Chapter 1

I didn’t expect to fall this far.

 

Upon becoming an adult, I completed my military service and, after working part-time at a coffee shop, was hired by an entertainment planning agency.

 

After learning acting as my skill, thanks to a powerful agency, I quickly rose to leading roles in every movie I appeared in, achieving great success.

 

The fortune-telling YouTuber, who predicted my rise, saw a horoscope indicating my ascent, foreseeing success in everything I touched.

 

The fortune-teller’s predictions largely came true, and at a young age, I achieved everything. Especially when I turned twenty-five, it was a peak moment in the prime of my life.

 

Billions were deposited into my bank account every month. I didn’t realize that what was rising wasn’t a dragon but the balance in my bank account.

 

However, my seemingly endless heyday suddenly came to an end. In the year I turned twenty-six, the auspicious energy that pierced the sky as if to reach the heavens began to lose its strength and descended to the ground.

 

Things started happening, like my father, with whom I had no contact since childhood due to divorce, suddenly appearing and scamming people using my name, or the movie company I was affiliated with going bankrupt on the eve of a film release due to embezzlement. Even a video of me getting into a fight and swearing in a bar I had never visited spread. That guy who resembled me even swore quite skillfully.

 

Misfortunes piled up one after another.

 

The manager who knew our house’s password sold expensive items while I was away, and after renewing it, he flew away with my long-forgotten bankbook.

 

The CEO of the agency had an affair with a quite successful female celebrity. Since I was friendly with her, I occasionally occupied a seat between them to display our closeness.

 

Because of that, I unintentionally became an acquaintance who pretended not to know about their affair. With the rumors spreading uncontrollably, anti-fans erupted explosively.

 

My life, which had been rising without an end, plummeted in an instant.

 

As I reached the point of self-blame, wondering if everything was my fault, a sense of disillusionment with life set in.

 

Unable to bear the depression that dug into me like a mole, I eventually halted all activities and disappeared to the United States like escaping. Thus, the festival of my life came to an end after four years.

 

I bought a house in LA and didn’t come out for almost a year. Changing my phone number after terminating the contract with the agency naturally severed contact with people I knew. It wasn’t intentional, but I also didn’t give out my new number. Since I didn’t go out, I was practically indistinguishable from a ghost.

 

I regained my senses in the winter of the year I turned twenty-seven.

 

That season made me particularly lonely, being alone.

 

The time of suffering in the corner of my house had passed, and now I thought it was time to go out. Even though I didn’t have the courage to return to Korea, I could travel abroad. Since I could communicate fairly well in everyday English, living in the United States wasn’t too difficult.

 

I took walks, established a regular restaurant near my house, and even made friends enough to exchange greetings.

 

Then, one day, a small change occurred in my somewhat boring but peaceful daily life. It happened after someone moved into the house next to mine.

 

Damn Mitchell Cronenworth.

 

Of all people, a Hollywood actor known for attracting the most paparazzi in the United States moved in next door.

 

At the time of my move to the United States, I thought I wouldn’t return to Korea, so I chose an extravagant house.

 

Excluding the money I had set aside for living expenses and the house I had bought with all the money I had earned so far, it was a two-story mansion in a so-called wealthy neighborhood. It had a wide yard and a swimming pool, with the house on the highest hillside.

 

Our house and the recently moved Hollywood actor’s house were side by side.

 

The boundary between our houses was a waist-high wall. Even that low wall served as a mere separation between my land and yours.

 

When you come out to the front yard and the swimming pool area, there was practically no privacy, fully exposed to the neighboring house.

 

Fortunately, the upscale neighborhood where wealthy people gathered, known as the uptown, was not accessible to just anyone. This provided some freedom from paparazzi, but when parties were thrown next door, I had to stay locked inside my house without any movement.

 

No matter how outgoing a person I was!

 

The neighbor’s parties happened roughly once every two weeks. It was not noise through the floors or walls but rather noise between houses. As it was the first time in my life experiencing such a thing, I didn’t know how to respond.

 

Of course, if I closed the door, the noise wouldn’t seep in.

 

But how long can one live with the door closed?

 

Already a homebody, I was deprived even of the opportunity to stroll in the backyard.

 

My hobby of lying on the lawn, looking at the stars, and finding mental peace came to an involuntary halt after intermittent parties next door.

 

The actor who moved next door, Mitchell Cronenworth, wasn’t exactly a guy who had fallen as much as I had. At the age of 29, with blond hair native to the United States, he had started acting at the age of six and had an impressive list of hit works. He was a massive star with the second-highest number of SNS followers in the world or something.

 

Anyway, he was a completely different person from an actor like me, who had only played in Korea.

 

I liked his acting, so I deliberately looked him up. Mitchell had a discerning eye for watching films, and he achieved dazzling results in every movie he appeared in. The awards he received were numerous, like stars in the sky.

 

He maintained over twenty years of popularity in Hollywood, flawlessly and steadily, with a perfect image without a single blemish.

 

At first, when he moved next door, I was quite surprised, but as the frequency of parties decreased from every two weeks to every week, then to four days, my admiration for him gradually crumbled.

 

Checking the news articles, it said he had just finished shooting a movie. I speculated that it would continue like this until he started the next shoot.

 

So, a week passed, another week passed, and after consecutive parties for three days, my last bit of patience flared up and disappeared.

 

In the late afternoon, with only his car left in the parking lot,

 

I stood in front of his front door.

 

At least, I thought I should let him know that I’m suffering from the noise.

 

I pressed the doorbell three times in a row, but there was no sound or light coming from inside. It seemed to be broken, or perhaps deliberately broken.

 

Since Mitchell’s car was still there, he probably hadn’t gone out, but he might have taken another car parked in the garage-style parking lot. Mitchell probably owned at least two vehicles.

 

After knocking for a while without any response, I knocked on the door more forcefully. Then the door opened smoothly. It wasn’t locked from the beginning.

 

In front of it, I hesitated for a long time. Shouting, “Who’s there?” would be normal, but I went inside without a word, as if it was something that had been used.

 

I wondered what Mitchell’s house was like. Unable to resist my curiosity, I assumed that he had already left the house. I thought he had probably taken the car he had parked in the garage and gone out for coffee with other acquaintances who had finished the party.

 

This is insane…

 

As I had heard yesterday, traces of the party were still scattered throughout the living room. Unfinished bottles, food, clothes scattered all over, even underwear here and there.

 

While looking at the mess, I suddenly regained my senses. Entering someone else’s house is a clear crime, and residential intrusion in the United States carries a higher penalty. At that moment, as I was about to turn back belatedly, I heard a voice.

 

“Don’t make a sound.”

 

Surprisingly, it was the Mitchell I knew. It was his voice that I had heard in videos. The low-toned, dry manner of speaking was exactly the same as a role he played in some movie where he fought for revenge.

 

The voice flowed from the front room. The door was wide open, so if I took a few more steps, I could really meet him.

 

The hesitation was brief. My legs moved before my mind could properly process.

 

It shouldn’t have happened.

 

If I had recognized the fact of residential intrusion, if I had heard that strangely ominous sound, I should have stayed out and waited for the next opportunity!

 

Although Mitchell and I were both actors, our locations of activity and our current positions in the industry were as different as night and day. Even though we had our own worlds, I must have wanted to feel some pathetic sense of camaraderie with Mitchell.

 

Although he was a globally famous actor, I wondered what kind of life he lived.

 

Curiosity sparked.

 

I deliberately ignored the unchanging truth that human curiosity always invites danger.

 

And so, I saw it.

 

Mitchell shaking his hips naked.

 

And below him, another man lying down.