Chapter 300: Meeting Golden Generation (11) (end)
"This is Martin. Who’s speaking?"
"This is Ariel Matisse. I did a photoshoot with Fat Boi if that rings a bell."
Ari heard the sound of keyboard typing in the background before Martin’s smooth voice was heard.
"Ahh, I remember you. I believe I helped you get your passports from the embassy? What can I do for you today? Need a favour?"
"Yes." Ari replied honestly, causing Martin to chuckle.
"As expected. I see that you’re in quite a hot pickle from that survival show that you’re on. Need my help in clearing things up?"
"No. I just need help getting a phone number."
"Pardon me? You don’t need help clearing things up? You’re quite talented, and I like you, but with the way things are going, it looks a little rough. I can talk to your PDs and the show overseer to spin things in your favor next time. Of course, it will cost you a pretty penny."
"I can handle it myself. I just need your help getting a phone number." Ari repeated calmly.
"Oh? So cool. I always love a confident youngster. Good to see nothing has brought your spirits down. Well, I can provide the number. How do you plan on paying?"
"I’m paying with an IOU that you cash in with me later. You can decide the value of the favour after hearing whose number I need."
"You think you’re valuable enough for an IOU? With me?" Martin’s voice suddenly became sharp
"Yes. Because you answered an unknown phone call and asked if I needed a favour, knowing I had had no cash to pay for it. I doubt you would even take money if I had it." Ari answered simply.
There was a second of silence before Martin burst out laughing.
"I like dealing with smart people. Fair enough. Whose number do you need? If it’s the president, I’ll have to say no. You’re not worth all that yet."
"Give it time, and I’ll get there. I’m looking for the number of a photographer named Chloé Laurent. She used to work at La Mode magazine, headquartered in Paris. She’s retired."
"Why does that name sound so familiar?" There was a pause before the sound of typing came through, and Ari heard Martin’s voice once more.
"Former editor in chief and highly decorated photographer of the renowned fashion magazine La Mode. That Chloé Laurent?"
"Is that what her job title was? Pretty fancy title for a drunk, angry old lady."
Ari heard a snort of laughter before Martin cleared his throat.
"...drunk, angry old lady. Well, that’s quite an accurate description of her. May I ask what you thought she did?"
"I just thought she was an old lady who took photos for work, came over to our house to get drunk on my dad’s good wine while arguing with my mom, stayed for dinner, always stole the snacks my dad made for me, fought with the cat, and then staggered home. She and my mom hated each other."
"...huh. Your mom, the photographer. What did you say your mother’s name was again?"
"Ariella."
"Ariella Matisse? Hmmm. It still doesn’t ring a bell. But now you have me curious-"
"I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m a bit busy right now because I have a lot to do, and this is an international call, so it’s a bit expensive. I need to save as much money as possible. Is it possible for you to get her number? The real number, not the fake work one she likes to give people. If not, sorry to bother you. I’ll still pay what you want me to through the IOU." Ari quickly interrupted the rambling that seemed like it would go on forever.
There was a strangely long pause before Martin replied coolly.
"I’m texting it to your phone right now."
"Thanks. Anything else? I’d like to hang up."
"You know, plenty of people want to talk to me for as long as possible. This is the first time someone is kicking me off a phone call they initiated."
"...Oh. Sorry? If you really want to talk, do you mind calling me back? I really need to save money."
"It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Matisse. I’ll contact you when I want to redeem that IOU. Oh, and look forward to the release of the photo shoot with the illustrious cat himself. I’m sure you’ve heard the saying No such thing as bad press in entertainment, and things are positively abuzz with you right now."
"Sure. Take care."
Quickly ending the call, Ari called the number that had been sent to him, wincing at the message letting him know about the international charges being applied again.
The phone rang and rang and rang before ending.
He called it again and again until finally, an angry woman picked it up and began cursing in French.
Hearing the familiar tone, he calmly interrupted.
"Bonjour. It’s Ari."
"Who? Are you a scammer? I told you I don’t want a damn wheel of brie to go with the case of wine!"
"I said it’s Ari! Ariel Matisse! Not cheese@" Ari yelled into the phone.
"Chou chou?" There was a pause before the voice immediately softened as his childhood nickname was called.
"Ouais, it’s me. Long time no talk, right? Still stealing alcohol from people’s wine cellars and snacks from children and kittens?"
At his flippant tone, the soft tone immediately disappeared, and the angry nagging in French began.
"Ahhh, Ariel, what have I told you about talking to your elders in a non-formal manner. And what do you mean by stealing snacks and alcohol? Those were rightfully gifted, and I accepted. You want to get punished by kneeling?"
"Ahh, walking in and taking what you want is gifting? Woah~ I’m learning something new today. If you’re lecturing me, just know I’m hanging up. I don’t want my ears falling off. Besides, nobody ever died because I speak in a casual tone. How are you going to make me kneel from the other side of the world?"
"Ah? You, this brat! No respect or manners since you were a child! You’re just like your mother!"
"Ouais, ouais, ouais. And what about it? Do manners pay the bills? Can I go shopping with manners?"
"Kneel down, you brat!"
"I refuse."
The back and forth continued for several minutes with both of them tactfully avoiding the big elephant in the room.
"Well, after how many years of ignoring me and my calls, why did you call chou chou?"
Although he thought she was saying something weird, Ari dutifully answered.
"I wanted to ask if you had any childhood photos of me."
"You’re someone who hated photographs when you were a child and had to be forced to take them, so what happened that you suddenly want them? Where are all the ones your mother took? She was a veritable library of photos, especially of you, that crazy, son-obsessed woman."
Used to the harsh way she talked about his mother, Ari shrugged.
"Ah, well, stuff happened. Anyway, I need them to prove I’ve never gotten plastic surgery on my face. Do you have any?"
"Who thinks you got plastic surgery? This sounds like the nonsense accusations that come from those bored journalists in the entertainment industry in America. Peh! Are you in the entertainment industry? Since when? Why haven’t I heard of it? Sabine! Check online for information about Ariel. Yes, the Matisse boy, he finally called! And get me another glass of wine! The good stuff. I need to celebrate."
As Chloé began yelling after the barrage of questions, Ari tried to get a word in.
"Uh...Could you just check if you have any photos of me at all? Or ask around mom’s old coworkers if they have any?"
Instead of an answer, he heard muffled yells and cursing in French before the voice became clearer.
"What the hell is this that I’m seeing online. What show is this? Ariel? Have these people lost their minds? Huh?"
Oop.
Guess she had searched him.
Well.
"So, if you could send me the photos, I’ll just-"
"Plastic surgery accusations? On that face that has been the same since you weighed the same as that damn evil cat you had? They say you beat a boy up with a tennis racket? You should have beaten him harder for whatever he did to you!!"
"....So do you have any photos?"
"And they’re calling you all these names. And they dared to insult Henri and Ariella? Only I can do that! Who raised these cow-dung-for-brains people? Who’s the producer of the show? Actually, no need to worry. I’ll handle it. You’re in Korea right now? Good. Wait for me. I’ll show them the spiciness of an old woman."
Before Ari could say anything, the phone cut off, and no matter how many times he called back, it was never picked up again.
[Wow.]
[What an interesting woman.]
[I’ve learned so many French insults today.]
"Not interesting. She’s a crazy, drunk old lady who takes really nice photos. It’s afternoon in France, and she’s drunk. She’ll send the photos, right? Wait, she said she’s coming to Korea? She’s joking, right?"
[Dunno.]
[You know her better than I.]
[What do you think?]
Ari thought about it for several seconds before tossing it to the back of his mind.
"I’ll ignore it for now and call her later. The next task is what, a surprise assessment? Guess it’s not much of a surprise anymore, thanks to somebody."
[...]
"I’m not complaining. Can you provide more details?
[The choreography will be assigned by staff, but the vocal song and rap are left to contestant choice.]
[I recommend you choose a song with lyrics that can portray what you’re feeling to the production team while toeing the line of being too offensive.]
At the surprisingly helpful response, Ari stared at the now blue screen before shuddering.
"You...are being surprisingly helpful and nice to me today. It’s kind of gross. I have goosebumps."
[...]
[After doing my best to show you support?]
[Caring about your wellbeing and wanting to take out those who are trying to harm your reputation, yet this is how you repay me?]
[D-d-drop dead.]
"Phew. Much better. Well, since I don’t plan on going back early, let’s spend some time doing some research. I want to be as hateful as I can and tell PD Ji-ho he’s a dirty, slimy, rag who deserves to go through what he puts others through."
Feeling a tiny bit relieved but still frustrated, Ari spent several hours in the karaoke room before leaving.
Instead of taking the train like he usually did, Ari walked the entire distance, stopping at different stops that caught his attention while pretending not to see the occasional person recording him with their phones.
No matter how much he experienced it, it was still very strange to him that people took videos and photos of random strangers, but it is what it is.
As he walked around lost in thought, he joined a crowd of people watching a performance of
He saw a group of older men, probably in their thirties, singing and dancing some type of Korean folksong while doing simple moves with a cane.
Feeling a bit hypocritical after just judging people from recording him, Ari whipped out his phone to do the same while his mind was churning as the ideas for how they could modify their group choreography to still include Justin and tell a story came together.
Waiting patiently for their performance to finish, Ari dropped two of the 10,000 won bills he had won from Quiz on the Block before speaking to the man, who seemed to be the leader and the oldest, judging by the silver strands of hair in his head in Korean.
He leaned heavily on the cane while panting, and Ari waited until he caught his breath before speaking.
"Uhm, hello. I was wondering where you got the canes from. Or if you have any suggestions for where I can buy some?"
"Ohhh? You speak really well for a foreigner. There’s a costume shop a couple of blocks over that should have some usable and stylish canes for cheap. Also, I recommend that you get some bandages and ointment for your legs. They look terrible, and if you don’t take care. By the time you’re my age, all your joints will be hurting, and you’ll really need the cane."
"Ah, this looks worse than it feels. But thank you!"
Bowing his head in thanks at the group, Ari ran off to the costume store that was luckily still open.
Quickly gauging the heights of his teammates, Ari bought six hefty canes with golden handles and a couple of other things before finally making his way back to the dormitory.
He tied five of the canes to his backpack and thoroughly enjoyed swinging the sixth one like a sword while singing random songs about fighting and beating people up.
"Beat ’em up, beat ’em up, beat ’em up, beat ’em up yeah!"
As he opened the door while swinging one, he made eye contact with Jamie and Benjamin, who, for some reason, were sitting by the door.
They glanced from his face to the cane in his hand and the pile tied to his back before immediately leaping up in alarm.
"No! You can’t beat him up!"
"Ari!!"
Before Ari could even begin to explain himself, Benjamin and Jamie had snatched the cane from his hands and the backpack from his back, leaving him empty-handed.
"And you even got a weapon to do extra damage? And backups in case they broke? I understand you’re upset, but bruv, take a deep breath. Violence is not the answer, mate! They’ll really kick you out!"
Ari: ಠ_ಠ
What was wrong with these two people?
"I’m not beating anybody up. It’s for my teammates."
"You’re going to literally beat us into shape? I know you’re frustrated, but we’ve been working so hard. Please don’t hit me." As Jamie stared at him with sad eyes, Benjamin began clicking his tongue.
"Tsk, tsk, we really need to work on your anger management. You can’t beat your teammates up even if you’re angry. That’s abuse."
Seriously, what the hell do you both think of me?
This is for us to use in the choreography!
"I’m going to sleep. When you’re both done with your nonsense, put the canes under my bed. Thanks."
"Violence is not the answer!"
"I’ll work hard! I’m sorry for stealing your food!"
Ignoring the nonsense that continued coming out of both their mouths, Ari peacefully went to bed after reading the rules the PD had so generously printed out for him.
And when a staff member came to wake them up at 4’clock in the morning to prepare to meet the Golden Generation members at 4:30 am, the only free time they had in their packed schedule, Ari peacefully rolled over and went back to sleep until 5:50 am.
And when his alarm went off, he brushed his teeth, washed his face, and wore his t-shirt and shorts combo before strolling into the practice room with no sense of urgency at exactly 6 am on the dot.
"Good morning. I hope you all slept well. I slept fantastically." Ari cheerfully greeted the PD, his teammates, and the members of Golden Generation with the brightest smile that would put even Jamie’s to shame.
"You’re late." PD Ji-ho said with an irritated expression.
"No, I’m not. Legally, I can’t work until right...now. Ding ding ding." Ari replied cheerfully.
Surprisingly, he was in a very good mood, especially after deciding on how he was going to act from now on.
It could be described in two words.
Obéissance malveillante.
Aka malicious compliance.
For the rest of the show, Ari planned on following things to the letter and nothing more.
Production wanted to paint him in a bad light.
Then why would he bother behaving?
It wasn’t like it had done him any good.
You want me to meet at 4:30 in the morning.
Sorry, I’m a minor in Korea.
According to Korean laws, he couldn’t work past 10pm or before 6 am.
If you force me to work, I’m going to the labor ministry and reporting you to everyone who will listen.
And if you push me this week, I’ll consider blowing everything up and deal with the guilt and consequences later.
Scanning the practice room and seeing Justin sitting in the corner by himself and looking sad while the rest of the group sat close to the idols with slightly frustrated expressions, the smile on Ari’s face became colder.
Walking up to the leader of Golden Generation, whom he had seen in the airport, Ari held his hand out for a handshake.
"Hi, I’m Ariel, the team leader. Pleasure to meet you. Mind updating me on what I missed?"