But the moment I saw the actual headlines, I mentally broke down on the spot. None of my mental preparations prepared me for what I saw.

The first headline read, "Breaking News! A certain A-lister was sent to the hospital because of… anal fissures!"

The second headline showed, "This just in! A certain A-lister is carted out of the powerful heir's private residence!"

What the heck was going on? I recognized every word I read, but when they were strung together, I found myself unable to comprehend the meaning at all!

As I stared at the viral headlines featuring me, I could only clench my fists tightly out of sorrow and rage.

"Dammit! Who was the one who started all these nonsensical rumors? I just got my hemorrhoids removed, that's all! What the hell is going on?"

Having hemorrhoids was just a normal health issue. Had the headlines reported that, I'd be able to twist things in my favor.

But now, the hemorrhoids were reported as an anal fissure instead. To make things worse, I supposedly got my ass torn right after spending some time with a man.

Great. My stardom was officially over.

I was thinking why Pierce wanted to invite me over to his place for a candlelit dinner in the first place. It turned out that he wanted to ruin my career forever.

That sly bastard must have been cooking up this scheme for a long time!

I closed my eyes and fainted once again from the shock.

…

Thanks to Pierce's scheme, I was painted as a gay celebrity. Not only that, but I was also depicted as a pretty boy who did everything he could to get into Pierce's pants.

The outside world thought that I had earned my awards simply from bedding Pierce. Because of that assumption, my reputation was in tatters, and I was utterly humiliated.

The amount of money made from the fabricated posts of me using underhanded tactics to rope Pierce into a scandalous relationship was enough for the owners of the clickbait accounts to buy actual properties in the city.

In any case, I was officially doomed.

At the moment, I, the so-called underhanded slut thanks to the rumors on the Internet, was cooped up at home. Since I was still taking up the negative spotlight in the industry, I couldn't receive any gigs at all. Right now, I could only live off my savings.

Thank goodness Alex was a reliable manager. She was able to score me a gig with a variety show instead of letting me rot away at home.

It was a variety show centered around music. The mentors of this show were 20-year-old fresh-faced pretty boys who had just started out in the entertainment industry, and yet they had the gall to act like they were worth a million dollars.

If this were to happen in the past, not only would I skip out on the gig, but I'd also insult them to the moon and back. Those youngsters didn't know jackshit about performing, yet they were granted the privilege to sit their asses on their chairs and prattle on and on about singing techniques.

But now, I had no choice. That was why I could only reluctantly attend the variety show as a guest.

Then again, this episode was different from the previous episodes. Apparently, a mysterious guest would be attending this episode's shoot as well.

The mysterious guest's chair was located in the mentors' row, but its back faced everyone else. No one knew the identity of the guest sitting in that particular chair.

Then again, I wasn't curious about the mysterious guest in the slightest. There was no way the director could invite Pierce to the show, right?

As long as Pierce wasn't there, no one else could affect me throughout the shoot.

The mysterious guest had nothing to do with me. I just wanted to attend the variety show, then leave with my appearance fee.

After I was done with my performance, thunderous applause greeted me instantly. The applause was a sign that the audience acknowledged my singing skills.

I did start out as a singer, after all. Now that I had proven my actual skill level, I felt that I'd be able to return to the A-list soon enough.

All I had to do was stay quiet and endure the round where a young mentor would bombard me with lectures and questions. I did my best to look sincere while gazing respectfully at the young man before me, who currently had one leg propped onto the other.

"Hello, Mr. Jenkins." I greeted my mentor, Thomas Jenkins.

I had already come up with various answers for all of the potential questions Thomas might hurl at me later. Seeing as I had been working in the entertainment industry for almost a decade, there shouldn't be any questions out there that were too difficult for me to answer.

Meanwhile, Thomas continued to prop one leg onto the other while supporting his chin with both hands flippantly. After studying me for quite some time, he finally tossed out his question.

"Hey, Daniel. What do you think about the Internet rumors claiming that you're Mr. Kirkland's lackey?"

The entire audience broke out into loud chatter the moment they heard Thomas' question. It was an extremely sharp, nonsensical, and idiotic question, to say the least.

In fact, the nature of this question was as dumb as Thomas the dumbass.

Thomas and the mentors around him all stared at me in a mixture of curiosity, amusement, and anticipation. They were waiting to see how I'd respond to this question.

All I could think of was one thing—I was screwed.

I couldn't believe it. A question proposed by a brat who was still wet behind his ears actually got me tongue-tied.

I was about to come up with a polite answer to gloss over this segment when I was cut off by the sounds of gas being ejected. It appeared that the mysterious guest's chair that had been facing everyone under the spotlight was spun around.

The person sitting on that very chair… happened to be my very same rival, Pierce.

Wow. When life gave me lemons, it didn't just hand them to me—it apparently decided to squirt lemon juice right into my eyes as well.

Pierce angled the microphone at his lips before speaking up in a husky voice.

"Nonsense! The truth is, I'm Daniel's lackey!"