[Edward POV]
Two days after the orchestra, it was time for the series premiere. Emma Watson and I stood in front of the photographers on the red carpet, posing for pictures together.
She whispered while my hand wrapped around her waist, "I came to your office the day before, but you're not there."
"Oh, I have something else to do that day." I replied dismissively.
Emma glanced at me for a second before focusing on the cameras again, "And this has nothing to do with our talk before you flew off to London?"
"You can paint it as a talk or maybe a heated conversation, but we both know it's a bloody argument." I replied, which made her get taken aback.
As soon as we finished taking the photo, I left her behind. She seemed a bit taken aback, but her attention quickly shifted to the reporters who were asking her questions.
It was a small premiere, as the show was only available on Netflix, attended only by reporters and close friends.
"Mr. Newgate! Mr. Newgate! Can I ask a question?!" A zealous reporter raised her hand and called out to me desperately from afar, blocked by two bulky security guards.
"Sure. Which media outlet are you with?" I replied casually, walking toward her.
"Mad Dog," she said, a maniacal glint in her eyes hidden behind her innocent youthful facade.
'Am I about to face the consequences of my actions now? I'm looking forward to it,' I thought secretly. I was the one who had allowed Mad Dog into the premiere; otherwise, they wouldn't have been here.
"Is there a special reason why 'Psychopath Diary' was picked as your next project?" she asked.
"Shouldn't this question be asked once production starts?" I chuckled slightly.
"Yes, but no one could track your location, and you didn't do any interviews pertaining to this project. After the success of your other projects, this is the first one where you left all the creative control to others. Is there any reason for that?"
"Because I loved the script. It was unscrupulous and witty. That's all." I smiled charmingly.
"Oh—um…" After a moment of fluster, she quickly regained her composure. "Is there a special reason you cast Emma Watson in the project?"
That was a fairly standard question, which made me slightly disappointed.
"I had no part in the casting for this project. As mentioned before, I left all the creative control to the director and producers. All I did was act."
"Are you going to focus more on acting while you take a break from music?"
"Not quite. This was filmed before I announced my break."
"Last question: what can you tell us about the rumors that you were donating money to charities to launder the money you made through dirty deals? Why aren't you paying your taxes in a normal way?"
The security guards were baffled when they heard her question, almost dragging her out of the event. I smiled and said, "The answer to that is simple: transparency. I just wanted my money to go somewhere that could help people, not elsewhere."
Her eyes lit up. "Can you elaborate on that—"
Another reporter intervened by pushing Sarah aside, asking me questions about the TV series instead. The security grabbed the opportunity and pulled her away from me.
After answering a couple of questions, the premiere was finally starting. Inside the theater, all the participants of the project, entertainment critics, and close friends of mine gathered to watch the show.
RDJ sat directly behind me with his wife at his side. "Newgate, if this sucks, I'm walking out of here," he warned me after tapping me on the shoulder.
"I hope it doesn't come to that," I replied, feeling a bit anxious.
He caught on to my expression and teased, "What, didn't you check it out first before this?"
"Yeah," I replied, stunning him. Pepper gave me a thumbs-up from a distance, signaling confidence. Maggie sat on my left, and Jenna on my right. My cousins snickered and teased my hairstyle the moment the show started.
"What's with the hair?" Maggie whispered.
"Is that a bird's nest?" Jenna added.
"No, it's fringe but slightly puffy—stop talking!" I shushed both of them. The character I was playing had a slightly gaunt appearance, wearing a cheap suit and appearing somewhat hunched.
"Did he cut a lot of weight to play this character?" Pepper asked, astonished. To portray him authentically, I lost around 15 kilograms. He's a depressed stockbroker—a pushover and a coward. I couldn't embody him with my muscular physique; no one would buy into that premise.
The first episode began by showing the main character, Travis Duncan, being an outcast on his team, burdened with the responsibility for a failing stock he had nothing to do with. Articles circulated, mentioning him by name as the person responsible for the incident.
As a pushover, he was tricked by his only friend in the office, who didn't share his sentiments, into staying behind to do his job while the friend went drinking with others. While performing his friend's work, Travis stumbled upon an email regarding the pharmaceutical stock incident and realized he had no one to trust.
He went to a construction zone to commit suicide but was too cowardly to actually go through with it, instead collapsing to his knees and crying over his fate.
"Huh? The car wasn't there before?" he noticed something unusual as he fell onto his butt at the edge of the unfinished building floor. Then, he heard someone pleading for their life from the floor beneath him.
Curious, he moved to check on the situation and witnessed a serial killer finishing his gruesome ritual—stamping the victim's bloody thumb into the pages of a diary where he kept information about his murders.
Summoning all of his remaining strength, the victim managed to kick the diary away from the killer, and it landed right at Travis's feet. Grabbing it, he hurriedly ran away to call for help. However, in his panic, he was struck by a police car—driven by none other than Emma Watson, a rookie officer who had gotten distracted while driving.
"So far, it's alright," RDJ commented from behind me.
At the hospital, Travis was diagnosed with memory loss; while he forgot his identity, he retained his skills and hobbies.
Emma decided it was fortunate for him to lose his memory and lied, telling him that he had jumped in front of her police car to save her job. She sent him home with her, leading to a discovery that he was an avid movie fan and a casual reader of advanced books.
{"I know what this is! This is just like Leonardo da Vinci's backward mirror writing style," Travis exclaimed excitedly as he read the pages in the diary that the police officer thought belonged to him.
Emma's character, feeling a bit anxious, asked subtly, "Oh, can you regain your memory when you read that diary?"
"I don't know. I can try." Travis quickly rushed to the mirror, opened the red leather notebook, and held it to his chest as he attempted to read the reflection. Emma waited curiously, standing at a distance near the main door.
"24 April 2011. Today I…" Travis's expression suddenly froze.
Emma asked, "What is it? Did you remember something?"
"Um… No… I don't think so." He placed the diary down and told Emma that he was tired. Sensing his discomfort, she understood and left him alone.
After Emma exited, Travis read the diary properly: "24 April 2011. Today I killed another person."
…
Episode 1 ended with a cliffhanger in which Travis picked up a ceramic toilet lid and terrorized his team leader in the restroom while the team leader was drunk. Believing he was the predator mentioned in the diary, his entire personality changed.
The lights turned on, and there were many disappointed groans from the audience.
"Come on, continue with the next episode!" RDJ shouted. The director and production crew took the stage to discuss the series before encouraging the audience to watch the entire show when it drops tomorrow.
"Edward! I'm excited for tomorrow," said Tom Hiddleston, the villain in the story, as we exited the theater. Some people were filming reactions and providing comments on the first episode, but I stayed behind, not particularly wanting to participate.
"Me too! I'm going to binge the show with my friends at my house," I replied with a cheeky smile. "I'm not inviting you, though, as all of them are kids."
"I don't want to hang out with a bunch of teenagers anyway," Tom chuckled. "So I guess you're not going to the wrap-up party?"
"I can't even enter the club since I'm not 21 yet." I pursed my lips in dissatisfaction before both of us laughed together.
On the drive home, Maggie suddenly said, "Oh, you know Emma's only 20."
"Where are you going with this?" I looked at her skeptically.
Maggie casually remarked, "She can't go to the club either, so I invited her to join our small party."
"We're having a small party? Where?" I was flustered, as I had already planned to do something else tonight.
"Where else? At your place, of course. Your dad, Frankie, Pepper—all of them are going to be there."
"I think at some point, we're not going to have these celebratory parties anymore. We can also do it tomorrow when the show actually drops."
"That would be rude to Emma since I already invited her tonight," Maggie replied.
I gritted my teeth, annoyed. "Yeah, that's right. You invited her. So why am I responsible for it?"
Amy peeked her head from the backseat and asked, "Are you guys fighting?"
Maggie gasped, ignoring Amy as she replied, "She's your castmate. I was just being polite! Why are you being so prickly?"
"Just take her to a club somewhere. Don't bother me," I said decisively, dropping off Maggie at her home before driving Amy back to my old neighborhood.
My uncle and aunt had bought a house there—my ex Abby's old place where she lived while she was in California. The entire house was remodeled before the family moved in.
Amy asked as she sat in the front seat, "Do you hate Emma Watson?"
"I don't necessarily dislike her," I replied.
"Why? What did she do to make you hate her? I thought she acted quite well in the first episode."
"I don't know. I just don't want her around me," I said as I stopped the car at a traffic light.
"You realize she's a lot like you in terms of personality, minus the pathological liar thing," Amy teased. "Maybe that's why you dislike her."
"You think I'm like her?" I snapped, feeling irritated.
Amy widened her eyes in astonishment and said, "You're mad about that and not the pathological liar part?"
"I'm getting there. I'm going by the sentence order. How am I similar to her?"
Amy chuckled and said, "You really don't see it? Both of you are nosy and very opinionated."
"That's hardly a fair comparison. I'm opinionated about the right and factual things."
"Which is why you and she don't get along. She thinks the same way, but you are more mature, so you listen to others' points of view and don't attack them for thinking differently," Amy said, surprisingly mature in her analysis of the tension between Emma and me.
"Also, I'm pretty sure you're being more annoying than usual because you got rejected by Vanessa," Amy added, giggling as she playfully slapped my shoulder.
I clarified, "She didn't reject me. She said she would answer next year when I'm 18."
"Nah, she rejected you," Amy pointed out mercilessly. "But I'm not going to rub salt in your wound, or even provide medicine to help it heal. I enjoy seeing you suffer."
I rolled my eyes and said, "Speaking of broken hearts, didn't you just get dumped?"
"Hey! I wasn't dumped! It was a mutual break—NO! I DUMPED HIM!"
I thought back to what Amy had said on the drive home.
"Maybe you just have to talk to her in a different setting—not at work. The party, perhaps."
Frowning, I sped up the car as I drove through the empty streets in the rain.
…
The next day, before the series dropped, I went to the office to meet with Pepper.
"These are the things you need to settle in the next two weeks. It's a lot, huh?" Pepper said, glancing at the stack of documents on his table with a sympathetic gaze.
To be honest, I usually managed double that amount in a day, but I didn't want to diminish Pepper's efforts on his last day.
"Yeah, it's daunting to look at," I played along. Harvey scoffed, knowing my capabilities, but she didn't call me out.
Pepper gave me a tour of his office, saying, "So, that's about it. The entire company is yours now."
"It was his to begin with," Harvey commented playfully. Pepper joined in, saying, "That's true. I have no idea what I was doing; I just did what he told me to do for the last three years."
"That's not true at all. The company owes you a lot," I reassured Pepper, who seemed to underestimate his own contributions.
"After you sign this, you will officially take over as the CEO of the company." Pepper's voice trembled slightly as he handed me the file.
"Are you alright, Pepper?" I asked, concern creeping into my voice.
Pepper covered his mouth, whimpering, "Nothing. I'm just really proud. It feels like my son is growing up."
I hugged him tightly. "Just don't have too much fun in Milan that you forget about me," I teased.
After settling the transfer process, Pepper commented, "Well, this feels a bit anticlimactic."
"Yeah, definitely. We could've had a party if we hadn't scheduled it for Sunday." I agreed with him. "There's no way the employees will show up unless they really like you."
Pepper snorted, saying, "Never in my life have I loved my boss so much that I was willing to sacrifice my weekends."
I shrugged. "I guess that's that."
"I guess that's that too," Pepper's chin quivered. Although he hadn't enjoyed the work, he loved being the boss of the company. The three of us walked out of the office together.
Harvey suddenly said, "I should file the paperwork first to make it official." She pressed the button for the 20th floor in the elevator.
As the door opened, hundreds of employees yelled, "Surprise!"
"What?!" Pepper's eyes widened in shock as he saw the "Farewell" banner hanging across the office. There was even a documentary showcasing Pepper's time as CEO playing on the projector.
"See? They love you!" I teased, placing my hand on Pepper's shoulder and nudging him out of the elevator.
After 30 minutes, the party was in full swing. Pepper had gotten drunk and was singing 'Kiss from a Rose' with Renaldo at the karaoke machine.
"Ah, I miss Max," I muttered as I watched the chaos from afar. "She would've loved to see this."
"Why are you talking about her like she's dead?" Claire approached my side with two champagne glasses in hand. I instinctively reached out to grab one, but she pulled it away hastily.
"No. Both of these are mine," she said with a glare. Claire had cut her hair short and wore office attire for the occasion.
"No wonder there are rumors you're an alcoholic," I said in disbelief.
Claire looked flabbergasted and asked, "Th—There are rumors of what?! Who did you hear that from?!"
"I won't snitch on my informants. But why aren't you at Disneyland with your family?" I changed the subject.
Claire waved dismissively. "It's still raining, even in Anaheim. We're postponing our trip. Maybe you can come with us too."
"Maybe I will," I replied with a smirk. Just then, Frankie joined us, looking worried.
"I still think hiring another CEO is the right thing to do. Your life is already hard enough with the plethora of projects you're juggling," she said.
Claire agreed, adding, "Unless you cut something out."
"I've already delegated a lot of my work to others. Don't worry; being a CEO is easy when you don't have any shareholders to appease."
During our conversation, I suddenly noticed something different about Frankie.
"You're not drinking any wine. And your boobs are getting bigger."
Claire was taken aback, exclaiming, "That's quite a rude thing to say out loud!"
"It's just an observation. I regret nothing," I said decisively, turning to Frankie, who looked a little anxious and was sweating slightly.
Her reaction made me even more suspicious. Suddenly, the answer to why my dad wanted to propose to her so urgently became clear as day.
"Are you… pregnant?" I blurted out. The reason I came to that conclusion was because of the Afterlife effect. I became extremely sensitive to everything that involved life and death so I could sense the life growing inside her belly.
Frankie's eyes widened in shock, and she hesitated before answering. "Um... well..."
Claire gasped, putting a hand over her mouth as she caught on to what I had just said. "No way! Are you serious?"
"Guys, it's personal–" Frankie's startled, the expression on her face spoke volumes.
"It is! Oh my God, this is huge!" Claire exclaimed, her excitement overriding her initial shock. "Frankie, why didn't you tell us sooner?"
…
Back at my house, I shouted at the top of my lungs as I stood on the outside deck, facing the garden.
"I'M GOING TO BE A BROTHER!! HELL YEAHHH!!!!"
My friends were taken aback at first, but then they quickly joined in, shouting with enthusiasm.
"EDWARD'S GOING TO BE A BROTHER!" Enid and Jenna bellowed.
Jacob cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "MY BRO'S GOING TO HAVE ANOTHER BRO!"
Finneas stayed back, rubbing his sore throat. "If I didn't have a sore throat, I would've joined you guys."
Only Elsa, Jacob, Finneas, Jenna, and Enid could make it to my place for the screening. Alex had earlier plans with her grandpa, so she couldn't be here. As for Billie, her mom wouldn't let her stay until 2 am at a boy's house.
Once everyone entered the home theater, Jacob immediately made a beeline for the popcorn machine. "There's caramel, salted, and plain! I WANT ALL OF THEM!"
"You guys can order some food if you want. The maid will deliver it to your seats," I said, showing them the tablet with the menus. Their eyes lit up with excitement, and they exclaimed, "This is the best movie theater I've ever been to!"
"Oh, and check this out." I demonstrated how the chairs could turn into beds. Then I warned them, "But if I hear any clapping while we're watching the show, I'm going to kick you out of the house. Got that, Jacob and Elsa?"
"Why are you targeting us?" Jacob asked innocently. "I won't clap inside a movie theater. That's just a lame thing to do."
"If you didn't get it, then I guess I have nothing to worry about," I said, nodding slightly as we settled into our seats. Jacob and Elsa picked the first two rows, converting their chairs into beds.
Jenna and Enid sat in the same row behind them, while Finneas took a seat next to me.
"It's a ten-hour-long binge with three bathroom breaks. No one's allowed to leave while the show is playing," Enid declared with mock seriousness as she set down the rules.
I chuckled. "Don't be silly, Enid. Just ask me to pause."
"Can we skip ten seconds forward if it's a slow scene?" Finneas teased, earning a glare from Enid. At 6 PM, the show premiered on Netflix, and everyone was excited to see it.
But before I could press play on the tablet, Maggie opened the door to the theater room. "We're here to watch the show!"
"You weren't invited—wait, who's 'we'?" I narrowed my eyes at Maggie with suspicion.
Suddenly, Emma Watson and Amy entered the room. "Finneas, go sit somewhere else." Maggie shooed Finneas away and placed Emma next to me. Her excuse was, "You're the only one here who actually knows her. So sit next to her."
"What the fuck—"
…
After the fifth episode, the series finally showed us why it was rated 18+. There was a scene where Tom Hiddleston and his secretary got into bed together.
I wanted to skip it, but everyone protested. Despite their squeals, they still watched the show with excitement.
"Edward, is there a scene where you were the one doing it?" Enid asked, a bit flushed.
"No. Just some topless makeout scene," I replied honestly.
"With— with Emma Watson?" Finneas breathed heavily, his childhood crush on Emma making him feel as if he was getting cheated on.
Emma blushed slightly and replied, "Well— I— I didn't take off my clothes."
"We don't care. We want to see Edward's body," Enid said snappily, which made me chuckle as I saw Emma taken aback.
"Hey, are we going to talk or are we going to watch?" Jacob asked with frustration.