N-M Chapter 135 The Queen Who Wanted to Keep the President as Her Sugar Daddy
Chapter 135 The Queen Who Wanted to Keep the President as Her Sugar Daddy
Chapter 135 The Queen Who Wanted to Keep the President as Her Mistress (Seeking Monthly Tickets)
Tokyo, Minato Ward.
While Horikoshi High School's performing arts department is renowned, it's not the only option for established artists or those who don't want to be bound by too many rules and regulations.
Located near Roppongi, the "Sunrise Art Academy" is another cradle dedicated to training artists.
This place is more like a miniature entertainment industry workplace, with courses covering vocal music, dance, acting, and even media relations courses on how to face the camera.
Lunch break.
The cafeteria was bustling with activity.
Half of the students eating here have appeared in various TV dramas or variety shows, and some are even members of idol groups who have already debuted.
But the most eye-catching table was the one by the window.
Rie Miyazawa was idly poking at the spaghetti on her plate with her fork.
She was wearing her school uniform and wasn't wearing makeup, but her delicate features, which were already fully developed at that age, still made her stand out as if she had her own spotlight.
"Um—Miyazawa-san."
A fairly handsome young man approached carrying a tray, his face flushed and his voice trembling slightly: "This Saturday—if you're free, I'd like to invite you to a movie. It's that really popular Hollywood blockbuster—"
Rie Miyazawa didn't even look up.
"I'm busy."
The answer was crisp and concise, even carrying a hint of impatience at being interrupted.
"Ah—yes, really? Then next week—"
"I'm not free next week either. I won't be free after that."
Rie Miyazawa put down her fork and glanced up at him. Her eyes held no girlish shyness, only a cold indifference born of someone who had seen it all: "I have classes and lines to memorize. I don't want to waste time on pointless socializing."
The boy was speechless, his face turning red. He awkwardly apologized and slunk away.
"Wow, Rie, you're so cold."
The female classmate next to her laughed and joked, "That's the most handsome guy in the class next door. I heard his family owns a chain of restaurants."
"So what?"
Rie Miyazawa pouted, picked up her fork again, and said, "So childish."
To her, who was used to the glamorous world of the entertainment industry, the advances from these boys her age seemed as childish and ridiculous as elementary school children playing house.
"That's true."
The female classmate rested her chin on her hand and changed the subject, "After all, Rie, your standards have been raised quite a bit. By the way, have you seen that movie 'The Whole Face' lately?"
Upon hearing the title of the drama, Rie Miyazawa paused for a moment while poking at the noodles.
"I've seen it," she said casually.
"I watched it too! Akina Nakamori acted so well this time, her carefree personality is so cute."
Another girl excitedly chimed in, "And that guy who plays her ex-boyfriend—it's Kitahara Shin again! Are those two going to be inseparable lately?"
"The aloof doctor in 'Under One Roof,' the mysterious ex-boyfriend in 'The Complete Story of a Woman.'"
The first girl cupped her face in her hands, looking completely smitten: "I used to think Kitahara Shin was scary when he played yakuza characters, but I never expected him to be so captivating in this kind of role. Especially the way he looked at Akina in 'Bare Face'—tsk tsk tsk, even though he didn't have many lines, that lingering feeling was just amazing."
"Right, right! I think so too!"
The girl lowered her voice and said gossipily, "Hey, do you guys think—are these two really dating? The rumors in the newspapers are so detailed, and now they're playing lovers in a drama. Isn't this like a paid romance?"
'
Rie Miyazawa felt that the noodles in her mouth tasted a little bitter.
A publicly funded romance?
Oh.
These two have been eating lunch together under the same roof in private, so there's no need for public funds.
"It's just acting."
Rie Miyazawa wiped her mouth with a tissue, her tone deliberately calm, "We're both professional actors, isn't it normal to play lovers? I've acted with him before."
"That's true—"
Several girls were still chattering about the plot.
Just then, a disdainful snort came from the next table.
"Tch. A bunch of fangirls."
The speaker was a boy with a middle parting and a somewhat arrogant look.
He was a pillar of the drama club and always considered himself a promising "classic" actor.
He slammed his chopsticks on the table, the sound not loud, but just loud enough for those around him to hear: "In the end, he's just a second-rate celebrity who makes a living off his looks. He can play a yakuza like a yakuza, a doctor like a doctor—that's called a 'character actor,'" or to put it bluntly, a "character actor." He hasn't had any formal academic training; he's just coasting on TV ratings.
He glanced at Rie Miyazawa, his tone tinged with sour jealousy: "Someone with his self-taught background will probably never even get close to a real award like the Japan Academy Prize or the Blue Ribbon. He's just fooling you young girls."
The air suddenly became quiet for a moment.
The girls looked at each other, a little angry but not daring to argue, after all, the boy did have good grades in his major courses at school.
"Smack."
A crisp sound.
Rie Miyazawa slammed her fork heavily on the edge of her plate.
The boy paused for a moment, then turned to look at him.
"What are you looking at?" Rie Miyazawa stood up.
She didn't yell or shout; she simply raised her chin slightly, her beautiful eyes now seeming to be covered in ice as she coldly stared at the boy.
"A second-rate celebrity?"
Rie Miyazawa's voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear: "Wait until the day you can make all of Japan cry over one of your plays, until the day you can get a director like Takeshi Kitano to write a script just for you, until the day you stand on the box office champion's throne—then you can judge whether he's second-rate or not."
She sized the boy up and down, a mocking smile playing on her lips: "You're not even worthy to carry his shoes now."
"you--!"
The boy jumped up, his face turning a deep purplish-red. "Rie Miyazawa, what do you mean?!"
"Literal meaning."
Rie Miyazawa remained unfazed, her gaze even colder than before, carrying a hint of the imposing presence she had subtly absorbed from Shin Kitahara: "Shut up. It's too noisy."
The boy was stunned by that look.
He had never seen this usually somewhat naive school beauty show such an expression before.
For a moment, he actually felt a sense of fear, and his throat felt blocked, unable to utter a single word.
He gritted his teeth angrily, and finally could only grab his schoolbag and slink away from the cafeteria.
"So handsome!"
The girl next to her was stunned. "Rie, the look you gave me just now—it reminded me of Shin Kitahara."
Rie Miyazawa sat down again and snorted coldly.
"One who stays near vermilion gets stained red."
She thought to herself: That guy may be a jerk, but he's not the kind of jealous loser who can pull off a scam.
Just then, the pager in my pocket suddenly vibrated.
Then, a call came from the public phone booth next door.
"Rie, your phone is ringing." Someone called out.
Rie Miyazawa walked over and picked up the receiver.
"Feed?"
"it's me."
The familiar, slightly magnetic voice came through the receiver.
Rie Miyazawa's heart skipped a beat. Her previously cold expression melted instantly, and the corners of her mouth involuntarily turned up, but she still pretended to be nonchalant in her tone: "Oh, isn't this the busy President Kitahara? What brings you to call me?"
"Did you eat gunpowder?"
Kitahara Shin chuckled on the other end of the phone, seemingly sensing her unease. "Who upset our big star?"
"It's nothing. I just helped someone clean up some trash."
Rie Miyazawa twirled the telephone cord between her fingers. "Okay, what is it?"
Two things.
Kitahara Shin's voice became more serious. "First, the legal proceedings on your mother's side are complete. The legal team just gave me feedback that the chain of evidence is very strong. If nothing unexpected happens, the formal verdict will be delivered in about two months. You will get back most of your assets, and your freedom."
Rie Miyazawa tightened her grip on the receiver.
Although she had known this day would come, when she actually heard the news, the feeling of finally having a weight lifted from her heart after so many years still brought tears to her eyes.
"oh."
She took a deep breath, trying to make her voice sound calm, "I understand. — Thank you."
"Why are you being so polite with me?"
Kitahara Shin smiled. "Secondly, I've recently invested in several late-night dramas and episodic series, and the crews are short-staffed. Would you like to give it a try?"
"Your film crew?"
"To be precise, I funded it, but someone else produced it," Kitahara Shin explained. "The role isn't big, and the pay isn't high, but it's a good opportunity to practice. How about it, want to work for me?"
Rie Miyazawa blinked.
She doesn't actually lack acting opportunities right now. As long as she asks, there are plenty of prime-time slots waiting for her.
But Kitahara Shin called specifically—
"I see."
Rie Miyazawa smiled at her reflection in the phone, her tone becoming lighter: "So you wanted to use me as cheap labor, huh? President Kitahara is really shrewd."
"No matter what, you're still one of my artists."
Kitahara Shin said helplessly, "Wasn't I just giving you career advice? Trying different types of roles will do you good."
"Alright."
Rie Miyazawa readily agreed, "Anyway, I'm bored. Just have Ota-san contact me."
"
"Yes. Study hard."
"It's over already?" Rie Miyazawa asked, somewhat reluctantly.
"What else? Should I sing you a nursery rhyme?"
"cut."
Rie Miyazawa pouted. "You can come to the office sometime. — I'll treat you to tea."
"President Kitahara."
Rie Miyazawa suddenly lowered her voice and said with a mischievous grin into the microphone, "You're not planning to do anything naughty to this delicate high school girl like me in the office, are you?"
'
There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.
"Hang up."
"Beep, beep, beep."
Hearing the busy tone, Rie Miyazawa was not angry at all; instead, she laughed out loud while holding the microphone.
Even though that guy is a womanizing bastard, and even though he has Akina Nakamori by his side.
But at least for this moment, the call was made to her.
It's not bad to feel cared for like this.
Roppongi, Kitahara Office.
After hanging up the phone, Kitahara Shin rubbed his temples and turned to look at the whiteboard on the office wall.
The whiteboard was covered with plans.
Filming for "Under One Roof" is nearing its end, and "The Whole Story Without Makeup" is also about to wrap up.
As an actor, his exposure this season has reached its peak.
But this is not enough.
"President, this is the interview list for this week."
Da Tian pushed open the door and put a thick stack of resumes on the table.
The Kitahara Office today is no longer the makeshift team of just two people it once was.
As Kitahara Shin's fame soared, coupled with his performances in "Yakuza Wife" and "Tokyo Love Story," more and more newcomers began submitting their resumes to this agency.
Kitahara Shin opened his resume.
Most of them want to be actors, and there are also quite a few promising models.
"According to the previous standards."
Kitahara Shin picked up a red pen and circled several resumes: "Keep those with distinctive looks. Eliminate all those with plastic surgery faces or those who only imitate idols. Also, arrange for these models to shoot GG."
"The GG department has received quite a few orders recently."
The consultant from Otae reported, "Because your image is so good now, many brands are willing to trust your judgment. Models we recommend, as long as they say they're from Kitahara Agency, are almost always given the opportunity to audition."
This is the power of branding.
Kitahara Shin knew very well that he couldn't make a lot of money by acting all by himself, no matter how hard he tried.
Acting is a "spear" used to build reputation, win awards, and gain a foothold in this industry.
His business empire is the "shield" that will allow him to establish himself in the long run.
His plan was clear:
The first step is to leverage one's fame to establish a talent agency, attract promising young men and women, and quickly recoup funds through GG and print photo shoots.
The second step is to shift from simply "artist management" to "content production." This involves investing in low-budget dramas and cultivating your own team of directors and screenwriters.
The third step is to form a complete industry chain. From script development to actor casting and filming, everything is done in-house.
Only by controlling the means of production can we avoid being held hostage by television stations and conglomerates.
"but----"
Da Tian glanced at the financial statements and hesitated, "Have we been expanding too fast lately?"
With so many new hires and ongoing investments in those TV dramas, our cash flow is a bit tight.
Kitahara Shin tapped his fingers on the table.
indeed.
Taking too big a step can easily lead to disaster. Although GG's income is good, film and television investment is a bottomless pit that burns through money.
Just then, there was a knock on the office door.
"Enter."
The door opened, and a petite figure wearing sunglasses and a trench coat slipped in.
Akina Nakamori.
She skillfully took off her sunglasses, placed the two expensive bottles of red wine on the table, and then pulled out a chair and sat down, her movements as natural as if she were back in her own home.
"Oh, Mr. Ota is here too." She greeted him with a smile.
"Akina-san." Ota tactfully closed the folder. "Then I'll head out now."
When only two people remained in the office.
Akina lay on the table, staring at Kitahara Shin's whiteboard filled with plans, and blinked.
"I heard you're short of money?"
She got straight to the point.
Kitahara Shin raised an eyebrow: "That Ota guy talks so fast?"
"Don't blame him, I forced him to tell."
Akina pulled a checkbook out of her bag. It was her savings accumulated over the years. Although her family had drained her of a lot of money, as a top diva, her savings were still an astonishing figure.
"I want to invest."
Holding a pen, she looked at Kitahara Shin with a serious expression: "I can provide the funding. How much do you need? Fifty million?"
Still 100 million? Or—can I sign my record contract too?
Kitahara Shin couldn't help but laugh at her confident and heroic demeanor.
"Sign a record deal with them?"
He shook his head, stood up, walked over to her, and flicked her forehead. "Idiot. Your record company and Warner have the best recording equipment and distribution channels. What can my fledgling little company use to make an album for you? Record it using the office phone?"
"But I want to help you."
Akina covered her forehead, looking somewhat aggrieved. "I don't understand anything about the industry chain, but I see how hard you're working—I have money, and my money is your money."
"Take it back."
Kitahara Shin closed the checkbook and stuffed it back into her bag.
"I don't lack money right now, what I lack is time. And—"
He looked at Akina with a hint of teasing in his eyes: "If I let you invest and we make money in the future, should I call you Ms. Nakamori or Boss Nakamori?"
"Calling him 'boss' is not bad either."
Akina imagined the scene, then suddenly perked up. She puffed out her chest, cleared her throat, and struck a pose like a domineering female CEO: "It's a deal then! If you ever go bankrupt, you'll work for me! I'll support you!"
Looking at her smug little face, Kitahara Shin couldn't help but complain, "Where did you learn those lines from, some third-rate idol drama?"
"Mind your own business!"
Akina snorted, then softened, reaching out to tug at Kitahara Shin's sleeve: "Anyway—if you're having any trouble, you have to tell me. You can't bear it all alone."
Kitahara Shin grasped her hand in return.
My palms are warm.
Don't worry.
He looked out the window at the bustling Roppongi district, his eyes sharpening with confidence: "This little scene is no challenge for me."
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