When Shaun Kim Lee, the twenty-six-year-old son of an ex-senator gets involved in one of the framed scandals, his parents decide to ignite a proposal to distract the media from ruining their reputation to ashes.
Lee doesn't want to get married to a...
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LEE
Cursed with a default face that radiates chronic tenderness and a cheerful ambience- I attract every kind of crowd that I don't want to be with. For years I had people coming over with prospects and fooleries, thinking of me as someone who they believed they could walk over. Without a consequence in vision.
I pity them.
I do.
The world is always prepared for the one who is complex and dire in personality. But never for the one who has it all in control. Never for the one who can do both. So when I entered Only Hour, a base nightclub by the second floor of the cosmopolitan skyscraper that I was easily more familiar than my original hometown. I see the heads turn, considerations lure and intentions tumble. I have been here almost every other day during my three years of living in vegas.
Not the club- but what was beyond this building and with who operates it. my stint here was at the twenty-seventh tier, but here I was. In a bar, by the counter- judging the frenzy. The very trait that I pledge to avoid, had thought me a lesson. When the misfortunes and cunning strategies of people I used to work with and for stabbed me in the gut did I learn.
I fell.
Scraped my skin until it bled. I wasn't naïve- but the hostile atmosphere and people were just extra careful. Maybe If I was as unforgiving and smart as my friends are, I might I've seen it all going down. At twenty-two, I was giving up everything I had worked for. Four years ago- under the roof of this building, I had killed my dreams. Knowing that none of it was my fault.
Four years ago-
I begged. My pleads had resonated the walls of their cabin where they were asking me to quit. To forget everything when being on tracks, under gear is all I had known since the day I first had taken on the wheels as a teen. Even before that- I broke rules, hired a private trainer, did my research- obtained my NASCAR license. Began my journey in a youth racing league when I was fifteen.
I had won.
From then, year after year- I had no fusion to look back. I was at the top of my career, a rage among the logistics. Want and need of the sponsors and investors.
Investors-
I was faithful to one- had been to him since the beginning. But when his personal stocks and shares collapsed, he used me to spring his position into the hub again. He paid for a racing collision- In agreement with the investor of the only competitor I considered by the field.
Nicholas Moreno.
He sold the race. I would've forgiven him. After all it was only a race.
But what none of us knew what how vile they had been with their tactics. It even made me laugh at how cleverly it was executed. From manipulating the agency to landing me in hospital for half a month, publishing the cover story to deeming me unfit for the sports because of my health. The national committee apologized to me for baring me with a reason that I had no control over.
