Chapter 1
chapter one
Kai
"Whatever it is, I didn't fucking do it."
My usual greeting doesn't work on my brother, who answers it with a sigh. "Just when I was beginning to think we shared more than just DNA, you open your mouth and prove me wrong."
Angel is . . . a bit pretentious. But I like him. He's got spunk. And apparently, he's a hired hitman. Go figure.
This new town I'm in is wild, lemme tell ya, but his town, just down the highway, is wilder. Port Wylde, to be exact. And the place is hopping with criminals, killers, and civilians who know better than to go out alone at night in certain areas of town.
I'm not sure what I expected from this new country, but this isn't it.
"Hey, bro, I don't make the rules. We were raised differently. I grew up in a poor but loving home; you grew up with an asshole and money. We each had our setbacks."
His sigh is put-upon and heavy. "Do you need a ride from the airport? I can have one arranged—"
"No need—the company I'm signing with sent one." They did, too. It's a sleek little number, fancy, with a little black divider, like I'm some sort of celebrity. I'm not, though. Not here, at least. "You coming up here any time soon?"
"I'll be up this week to make sure you're settling in okay.
" He pauses, and I can practically hear the eye roll he does.
I wonder if his eyes are as vibrantly violet as mine.
I know we're twins, but he hasn't sent me any pictures of himself, and I haven't sent anything he can't find online.
So really, we have no idea what to expect from each other.
"Do you have your address yet? Are you staying at a hotel? "
He's nosy, too. I wonder if he's as controlling in person as he is with me over the phone.
"I'm going to be in the high-end hotel on the beach to start, and then they'll arrange more long-term arrangements for me, according to the email.
" Someone named Rizzo sent me an itinerary and contact information.
Luckily for her and for me, I speak pretty decent English, so she won't have to hire me a translator, at least. But I'm a foreign man in a foreign land, and there's a lot for me to learn.
She's Seo-Jun's girl, too, so there's that.
I wonder how that bastard's healing up these days?
"Well, let me know when you settle in, I suppose," he mutters, his attention obviously elsewhere. "I'll be waiting for your call."
"You'd better bring your girl with you when you come," I say as he prepares to cut off the call. "I like her."
She's the only reason I know I have a twin.
The first time I met him, he came alone.
Shame, considering I was hoping he'd bring the bubbly girl I met on the phone with him.
She seemed nice, a vibrance that's the opposite of my brother.
I suppose it's a good thing we all have our opposites.
The art of Feng Shui emphasizes yin and yang balance, and you need harmony like that to make things work in nature.
She's the yin to his yang, or whatever. I'm not that into it.
My foster parents are, though.
"Yeah, yeah," he mumbles, then the line goes dead. In the few times that I've spoken to him on the phone, I've gotten used to his abrupt endings. He doesn't mince words with me. And that's okay in my book. I don't have time to play poetry in motion. I'm a busy man, after all.
But in person, he's a lot less uptight. He's downright chill. And the whiplash it can give you the first few times is insane.
Now? I'm pretty sure I'll be okay.
The car pulls up to the swanky hotel I'm staying in, and holy shit, it's better than I imagined.
The damn thing goes clear to the clouds; it's so tall. I can hear waves from the beach, but it butts up against the minute the door to my ride opens, and shit, man, it smells amazing.
"Is this the place?" I ask in awe, staring up at the multi-colored spotlights that shine against the front of the building like some sort of light show. They've even got designs etched into their beams. "This is insane."
I've never stayed in a hotel this nice, even as an idol. My label was, let's just say, cheap. And since lately, I haven't been their highest earner, well, I get the bottom of the barrel, so to speak.
This is top tier, man.
"Right this way, sir," the driver says with a hand outstretched, and I step up off the sidewalk and onto a pathway lined with a fucking carpet.
I'm not red-carpet material. I'm wearing a pair of naturally-faded jeans, a generic white tank top, and a slouchy, secondhand vintage bomber jacket I picked up from a shop in Kyoto one year while on vacation.
The most expensive thing about me today is the pair of high-end shoes on my feet.
I mean, I have money, that's not the problem. The problem is, I don't look like I have money, and usually, that tends to make people treat me differently than they do if they can see my visible representation of wealth.
I sail through check-in, likely because the driver knows the doorman and the counter girl, and they hand me a nice keycard with gold shiny inlay—fucker is heavy, man—and I make my way to the elevator.
A bellhop brings along my bags, and in no time at all, I'm on the fifteenth floor, looking out at a city I hadn't heard of until Jun called me a few days ago and set me up on a flight over.
The layover in London was great. I even managed to find a hot honey to hook up with in the hotel bar. She took her clothes, her attitude, and let herself out before the sun rose—my favorite kind of hookup.
Easy. No strings attached.
Now I'm here, and I not only know nobody, but I'm a stranger in a strange land, and I have a job to do.
I haven't been an idol in years—not like this company expects me to be. It'll take some work to get back into that mindset.
With a sigh, I close the curtains on the city and flop down on the couch, drinking straight from the complimentary bottle of wine they left for me on the counter of this suite.
Welcome to Nocturna Beach, the little card said.
We look forward to seeing you at the office tomorrow morning. -kNight Ent.
It's a damn good thing I don't suffer from jet lag, or I'd hate the following day's schedule, and everything it promises to bring me.
Another car waits for me at six sharp before the sun has even come out to play.
The company offices, however, are busy as a beehive, and I find myself swept up in the various people coming and going as I try to figure out where I need to be.
Thankfully, someone passing by takes pity on me and directs me to the front desk, where I manage to get my name out amidst the constantly ringing phone on the counter.
The girl there is apologetic and kind, but I don't have time to wait around. My schedule today is packed, and I've got places to be. I'm used to having more hands on deck, because this is all too much for one person to organize and maintain, and being without an assistant is driving me mad.
I growl at no less than four people who get in my way on the way to the elevators, and they move out of the way with a range of expressions on their faces, from shock to fear.
This is more like it. This is the deference I'm used to back home.
I'm not what you'd call an easy guy. In fact, I have a reputation for being difficult to deal with because I expect a certain level of work ethic from those around me.
I want people who show up and give it their all, and sometimes that comes off a bit bossy and demanding.
But I'm good at what I do, so most people overlook that side of my abrasive personality.
I have a softer side, but I reserve it for special people. None of these strangers has earned that side of me yet.
I've become hardened by the industry out of a need for self-preservation.
When the elevator doors open on the fifth floor, I step out and am immediately greeted by someone holding a chipboard and a smile too chipper for six thirty in the morning.
"Are you Mister Kobayashi?"
I eye the young woman in the too-tight pencil skirt and stuffy blue blouse and sigh. "Yes, that's me."
She turns and extends her hand, gesturing down the long hallway before us. "This way, please."
I follow her to a conference room where three people wait for me—one of whom I recognize immediately.
It's my old friend, Seo-Jun, and, well—
"You've looked better, mate."
He's got his arm in a sling, he's still a bit bandaged up, and he wears a grimace of dull pain, but he still stands and shakes my hand, then tugs me into a hug that I know must aggravate his injuries.
"Kai, man, how have you been? The flight wasn't too bad, was it?" He checks me over as we catch up, and I take a seat next to him, if only to encourage him to return to his own chair. I'm an asshole, not inhumane. He's weak, and he should be at home, resting. Instead, he's here, with—
"You remember Ari?"
It's been years. A lot of years. But there's no mistaking the woman who stands at his side, staring down at him with a look of worry in her gorgeous eyes.
"Arista Simmons, you've grown up."
She has, too. She's filled out, and where the last time I saw her, she was a girl, now, she wears the mantle of a woman, and well, at that.
Too bad she's already spoken for.
Her head dips gently as she spears me point-blank with a knowing stare. "You've gotten no taller in your time away from the limelight, Kai."
Sassy as ever. Some things never change. She's had the playful attitude ever since she met Jun. He gave her a confidence she didn't know she could own. And in return, she gave him a reason to keep going when he was at his darkest.
I'm happy for them. They deserve their own love story. But I'm not here to play catch-up right now. "So, what's the plan?"
She sits down across from me and shoves over a folder with several sheets of paper inside it.
When I flip it open, the first page is a structured year-long comeback plan, complete with a mini-tour, several talk show interviews, and several black-tie dinners and parties to make an appearance at.
It's nothing overwhelming, but there are red lines in the gaps where she's made notes in the margin, like squeeze in an interview with local paper and find time for several philanthropic endeavors and even charity work for image promotion.
I've been living the busy life of a celeb for years, but this is insane.
"Are you out of your mind? Will I even have time to breathe?"
She shrugs, looking at Jun. "It's not that bad. Jun was doing twice that workload."
I eye Jun, and he just shrugs. "She's not wrong."
Clearly, the life of an idol here is no less busy than one back home. And I've been living a leisurely life for the past two years, acting in whatever dramas spark joy and taking my sweet time doing what I want, when I want. This will take some adjusting to.
"And the contract?"
She flips the page, and I skim through a two-page nightmare that locks me into one of the wildest prospective career moves of my life. "Vocal coaches? Dance practice? What am I, a trainee again?"
No way. I'm better than all this. I didn't agree to come here and start over. I came to fill in, help a friend.
"You're rusty, Kai," Jun says with a grimace, like it pains him to admit the facts. It's not his pride on the line, dammit. "You know it, and I know it. When you switch to TV, things slow down. You'll need refreshers to get where you need to be—"
I hate it when he's right. "Fine. You want me to refresh my memory, ramp up my skills, I can do that. But it's gonna cost you."
Arista grins, in that wicked way she used to when she was about to tell Jun about himself when we were all younger, less stubborn and set in our ways.
"The company is willing to negotiate the bottom line to secure you.
That's what Freddy here is for. He's got the numbers, and the legal prowess, to alter the contract to your specifications. "
Freddy nods solemnly, like he'd rather be anywhere than here, but he's on the clock, so I doubt he cares how long we actually waste his time. "Yes, Mr. Kobayashi. Whatever you'd like, I'll make it happen, if it's within my powers."
The contract specifies a signing bonus, but I want certain securities if I'm going to do this. And I don't like the percentage they have for profit margins.
"Okay, then, let's talk numbers," I say with a grin, steepling my fingers in front of my nose as I prepare to take this man, and the company he works for, for as much money on the bottom line as humanly possible.
They want me that bad? They can have me. But it'll be on my terms, and I don't come cheap.
Game, set, match.
Ball's in your court, kNight Entertainment. Let's see what you've got.