Tokyo: My Best Actor Gear List

Chapter 3 An Encounter

Inside the "Daejeon Office," smoke filled the air.

The manager, Ota, had a cigarette between his fingers, the ash piled up long and he forgot to flick it off. He stared intently at Kitahara Shin, who had just walked in, with his bloodshot eyes.

"You mean..." Da Tian swallowed hard, "TBS not only cast you, but also... replaced that newcomer from Johnny's?"

"Yes."

Kitahara Shin pulled out a chair, sat down, and calmly poured himself a glass of water.

"My God..." Ota slapped his forehead, cigarette ash spilling all over his pants. "That's a TBS Monday 9 PM drama slot! Even though I'm only the third male lead, do you know how many big agencies are eyeing that lucrative opportunity? You... how did you manage that?"

Kitahara Shin smiled but offered no explanation.

"Have you discussed the salary?"

"We've reached an agreement." Ota perked up instantly, pulling a contract from his drawer. "Because I'm a newcomer, my per-episode fee is only 50,000 yen. The whole series is about ten episodes, so it'll be 500,000 yen in total. However, TBS has promised an extra bonus if the viewership rating exceeds 20%."

500,000 yen.

In this bubble era, this amount of money isn't even enough for those big shots to open a bottle of wine in Ginza.

But for Kitahara Shin, who was still eating discounted bento boxes, this was the first step he took to establish himself in this industry.

"Sign it."

Kitahara Shin picked up the pen and signed his name neatly.

My decades-long life as a struggling actor in Hengdian World Studios seemed to flash before my eyes.

In his previous life, he couldn't even get a role with a name; in this life, he finally managed to pry open that door.

……

Three days later, Akasaka, TBS Television Station.

The makeup and photoshoot went smoothly.

When Kitahara Shin, with his slightly wavy long hair and wearing a linen shirt stained with paint, stood in front of the camera with his equipment activated, the previously lazy atmosphere in the studio instantly changed.

The photographer didn't shout or yell, but the frequency of pressing the shutter suddenly became extremely high.

"Click! Click! Click!"

The almost frantic clicking of camera shutters is the greatest recognition an actor can receive.

Kitahara Shin's "fragile artistic sense" even overshadowed the intense flashes in the photography studio.

During a break in filming, Kitahara Shin went to the restroom.

People were coming and going in the corridor.

He washed his face and was about to return to the studio when a familiar figure made him pause as he passed the corner of the fire escape.

Akina Nakamori.

She appeared to be there to record a music program, wearing her signature glamorous gown. But at that moment, she was being cornered by a middle-aged man in a suit.

The man, with his back to Kitahara Shin, spoke in a very aggressive tone:

"...What's wrong with you? Why didn't you cooperate with Kanai-san's press conference? Do you know how much money the company spent suppressing the news? Who are you trying to fool with your tantrums?"

Akina Nakamori kept her head down, her fingers gripping the lace of her skirt tightly, without saying a word.

Kitahara Shin did not step forward.

He knew that he was just a small actor who had just gotten the role, and that rushing in to play the hero would only make the situation more awkward and would not solve any problems.

He simply stood quietly in the shadows around the corner and took out a cigarette.

"Click".

The crisp metallic sound of the lid being opened was particularly clear in the noisy corridor.

The middle-aged man who was scolding the man paused for a moment and looked back. He saw a young man with long hair lighting a cigarette, his eyes cold (equipment status not yet deactivated).

The man was taken aback by the aura that kept strangers at bay, and considering that this was a TV station corridor, he couldn't continue to lose his temper.

"You need to reflect on your own actions! Don't mess up when you go on stage later!"

The man left after saying a few words.

In the corner, only Akina Nakamori remained.

She slowly raised her head and looked at Kitahara Shin not far away. Her eyes were red, but there were no tears on her face. Having been in this industry for so long, she had long since learned to swallow her tears.

Kitahara Shin remained silent.

He simply closed the silver Zippo in his hand.

"Click".

That was a familiar voice to her.

Akina Nakamori looked at the lighter, then at Shin Kitahara.

She recognized him; he was the stranger from a few nights ago.

She looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, then lifted her elaborate skirt and walked quickly to Kitahara Shin.

"Could I borrow a light?"

Her voice was soft, with a slight nasal tone, as if she had just been scolded.

Kitahara Shin didn't ask her why she was scolded, nor did he show excessive concern. He simply reignited the fire.

The orange-yellow flames flickered.

Akina Nakamori wasn't actually going to smoke; she was about to go on stage and couldn't have any smell of smoke.

She stared at the flame for a while, as if confirming something, or perhaps just wanting to catch her breath in that little bit of light.

"Is it fixed?" she asked.

"I added some oil," Kitahara Shin replied.

The conversation was simple, like two strangers chatting while waiting at a traffic light.

"Good."

Akina Nakamori took a deep breath, straightened her skirt, and put on the "National Diva" mask again.

She skillfully concealed the vulnerability and embarrassment she had shown just moments before.

Before leaving, she glanced at the lighter in Kitahara Shin's hand.

"Then I'll leave it with you for now."

She didn't say "I'll give it to you" or "Keep it safe for me," but left behind this ambiguous statement before turning and walking towards the stage.

"Anyway, I always end up losing it."

Kitahara Shin watched her elegant yet somewhat lonely figure disappear around the corner.

The Zippo in my hand was slightly warm.

[System notification: A bond has been formed with the key character "Akina Nakamori".]

[Status Acquired: Songstress's Gaze (Level 1)]

Note: She remembered you. In this suffocating world of fame and fortune, you became a slightly special passerby in her eyes.

Kitahara Shin put the lighter back in his pocket and turned to walk towards the photography studio.

This was just a side story.

More than anything else, he was concerned about whether the production team would be satisfied with the costume fitting photos later on.

After all, that was the guarantee of his livelihood.