Chapter 239 - 238: Carrot On A Stick
Rex blinked, snapping out of the spiral of thoughts when he saw Aren fidgeting nervously, mistaking Rex’s silence for rejection.
Aren chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Look, I know I probably sound desperate. But I had to take the shot, you know?"
Rex tilted his head slightly, his gaze sharp but unreadable.
"You’re not just desperate," Rex finally said. "You’re insane."
Aren’s face fell.
"But maybe that’s what it takes." Rex leaned back, arms folded. "I’ve met people with connections, talent, even luck. But very few who would dare to sneak into a gala, bribe a waiter, and pitch their soul’s work to someone they’ve never met. That kind of madness... that kind of fire, is rare."
Aren looked up, eyes wide.
For a moment, neither spoke. The music and conversations from afar had faded into the background, replaced by a quiet tension between them. Rex could see it now—not just ambition, but desperation, years of rejection, grit etched into the lines of Aren’s face. This wasn’t a whim or a youthful gamble. It was survival. A last shot.
Sensing Rex’s silence, Aren took a breath, voice softer now but no less steady—like someone opening the final page of a long letter written in blood and hope.
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, his entire body tensing as if he were placing not just words, but pieces of himself between them. "I’ve got a friend whose father owns a small but decent studio on the outskirts. Nothing fancy, just a couple of old sound stages, some decent lighting setups. But it’s enough."