NOVEL ONLINE FREE Chapter 127: Pop Culture Crisis
Emma's Mansion, Metro City
Dr. Goode adjusted his glasses.
He peered over at Gwen and Emma.
Both women sat across the table, their usual sass and energy replaced with rare, uncharacteristic focus.
This was one of their more serious love counseling sessions—at least on the surface.
He shifted his gaze to Dark Elf in a far corner of the room.
She sat cross-legged on the carpet, munching on chips with a bored expression, her laptop propped up as her sitcom's canned laughter echoed faintly in the background.
Dr. Goode sighed and turned back to the two women.
"So… Mrs. McQueens…" he began.
The effect was instant.
Gwen and Emma's faces turned red, as if he'd just dropped a nuclear bomb of embarrassment on them.
… Hnnn~ ♡
Their heads snapped toward each other, then dramatically away as they avoided eye contact. They fumbled with their hands like flustered schoolgirls as their delicate thumbs twiddled furiously in synchrony.
Dr. Goode raised an eyebrow. "What's the matter?"
Gwen cleared her throat while looking anywhere but at the therapist.
"W-, Well… uhm, don't you think it's a little… early for that? You know, calling us that. I-, I mean, neither of us are technically at that part of the relationship with Scott yet…"
Red-faced and squirming in her chair, Emma jumped in.
"Y-, Yeah! I mean, it's not like we're trying to rush anything or—oh God—scare him off, right? Not that Scott would ever leave us—he's not that kind of guy, but, um, we just don't want him to think we're… desperate."
She then threw her head for a moment to whisper.
"Even if we kinda are…"
Dr. Goode's expression remained deadpan.
The disappointment in his eyes was clear.
"You two were the ones who explicitly told me in our last session to stop calling you Miss Graves and Miss Mercer. Mrs. McQueen was your preferred title. Or have you forgotten?"
Emma's head snapped toward Gwen, who looked equally flustered.
Emma laughed nervously, then waved her hands.
"W-, Woah there, Doc. We never said that. Not once. You're… uh, misremembering or something. Right, Gwen? Tell him!"
Gwen shot her a panicked side-eye but reluctantly nodded.
"Y-yeah… totally. We'd have to be, like, really sad and delusional to request something like that…"
Her voice trailed off, the guilt written all over her face.
Dr. Goode's lips pressed into a thin line.
He reached for his leather briefcase, then opened it with a deliberate click.
From inside, he produced a thick stack of papers.
"Fortunately for you two, I happen to have proof. These are my meticulously detailed notes from our last session. I take great pride in my work. So much pride, in fact, that I find it particularly grating when my clients decide to make me look like a fool."
Emma's eyes widened. "W-, Wait, hold on. What's that?"
"These…"
Dr. Goode said, holding the papers up elegantly.
"… are your exact words, verbatim. Care to hear them?"
"N-, No, that's really not necessa—"
Emma spoke up, but Dr. Goode had already started flipping through the pages.
He cleared his throat theatrically, in a manner strikingly similar to Emma's own earlier cough.
Then, he read aloud:
"I would prefer if you treated Gwen and me like we were Scott's wife as it would make us feel more secure about being in a relationship with a man so unbelievably handsome and sexy that he makes me wet myself every night. Do you ever feel that way, doctor?"
Emma's face went from red to crimson.
Her jaw dropped as if the words physically hit her.
"T-, That…! I-, I didn't—! Wait, you wrote that down?!"
Dr. Goode gave her an unimpressed look, flipping the page back into place.
"No. No, I do not ever feel that way, Miss Graves."
Emma puffed up her cheeks in a pout, then crossed her arms as she muttered under her breath.
"Tch, fuck it. Whatever happened to the good ol' doctor-patient confidentiality…"
Dr. Goode calmly placed the papers back into his briefcase and locked it with a snap.
"You forfeited that the moment you decided to gaslight me into thinking I'd misheard you."
"Fair enough…"
Both women muttered simultaneously, sinking into their chairs like scolded teenagers.
Dr. Goode sighed as the weariness of dealing with these two started telling its tale on his exhausted face.
"Now, if we're done with the theatrics, can we focus on what issues you've been facing in your relationship with Scott recently? Or, better yet, what issues you think might arise in the future?"
Gwen leaned back in her chair, rocking it slightly as she stared at the ceiling in thought.
"Hmmm… honestly, I'd say everything's been going pretty smoothly. Like, the trick for us is not thinking of our relationship with Scott as something we have to share, you know? If we keep it natural and don't overthink it, the feelings will surely always stay… potent."
Dr. Goode's lips twitched into a small smile.
"That's a surprisingly mature answer. Well done."
Emma nodded along with a soft smile.
"Yeah… I guess if we stop obsessing over the little things, it's easier to just… enjoy being with him."
For a moment, the room was quiet, save for the crunching of chips in the corner.
Dark Elf glanced over her slender shoulder as a smirk formed on her sexy, thin lips.
"Wow. Actual progress. Guess there's hope for you two after all."
She said with a mouthful of chips
Next, she turned back to her sitcom.
Dr. Goode allowed himself a rare, genuine smile.
"Good. Now let's build on that."
He leaned forward and his fingers interlocked as his sharp eyes settled on Gwen and Emma. His voice was calm but probing, the tone of a man who knew when his clients weren't being entirely honest.
"So, does that mean you don't have any potential fears that could break this relationship?"
Gwen and Emma stiffen, quickly sharing a strange, fleeting look before glancing away to avoid eye contact with the therapist and each other.
"No, not at all…"
Gwen said, her voice a little too quick, a little too light.
"Yeah, nope, everything's fine…"
Emma added, twiddling her thumbs nervously.
Dr. Goode's eyes narrowed.
He wasn't buying it—not one bit.
He leaned closer, resting his elbows on the table.
"That look… what was that look just now?"
Gwen raised an eyebrow, acting confused.
"Uhhh… Wh-, What look? I didn't look at her—did you look at me, Emma?"
Emma threw her hands up defensively.
"Nope, I don't know what he's talking about! No looks here, nope!"
Dr. Goode sighed as his patience thinned.
His fingers tapped rhythmically on the table.
"Let me be perfectly clear. Do you really want to make the same mistake you made a few moments ago? Or did you learn absolutely nothing from that little… reveal?"
The subtle but sharp accusation was enough to break through their facade.
Emma groaned, slumping forward onto the table.
"Alright, alright, fine! I'll say it."
She looked up at the ceiling as if begging for patience, then straightened.
"Yes, we are scared of something. But it's not exactly about Gwen or me."
Dr. Goode leaned back in his chair, visibly satisfied that they were finally opening up.
He adjusted his glasses with an easeful motion.
"Good. Now we're really making progress. So, this leaves me to assume it's either Scott or… a third party? Or perhaps both?"
Gwen gave a small, hesitant nod.
Emma took a moment to collect her thoughts, then spoke as her words tumbled out like an overdue confession.
"See, the thing is… we're really worried about the kind of guy we're dating."
Dr. Goode tilted his head slightly, intrigued. "Go on."
Emma inhaled deeply and gestured dramatically.
"Scott might not realize it, but he's, like, the hottest guy in the city right now. Maybe even the country! I mean, people are literally comparing him to models like William Roosevelt!"
Gwen nodded in agreement.
"It's true. The man's walking perfection. Blue eyes, a killer smile, and a body that makes most gym trainers look like amateurs. Not to mention his personality…"
She trailed off as her cheeks flushed slightly.
Emma picked up the thread, clutching her chest dramatically as she continued.
"And don't get me wrong—I'm so glad he's getting the recognition he deserves! But at the same time…"
Dr. Goode's expression hardened slightly.
"External forces, then?"
Emma nodded quickly.
"Exactly! It's, like, I trust Scott. I really, really do. But the city is full of thirsty women who would throw themselves at him in a heartbeat! Every single second we're not with him, I can't stop thinking that someone else is kissing him!"
She slammed her hands on the table as her voice rose.
"And what if she's prettier than me—or smarter—or has some crazy skills that I don't? Like a double tongue that can give him the sloppiest head, or lactating boobies?! What if Scott just… gets swept away?!"
Dr. Goode chuckled softly, raising a calming hand.
"Miss Graves, I understand that you're scared. But don't you think you're letting your imagination run a bit wild?"
Emma opened her mouth to respond, but before she could say anything, a crunching sound interrupted the conversation.
From the corner of the room, Dark Elf paused mid-bite.
She looked at the trio with a lazy face.
"Wow. Scared of him cheating? Cute. Real cute."
She grabbed the remote and started flipping channels.
"Anyway, there's supposed to be news about the Blue Thunder superhero movie coming out today. Let's see if it's on…"
The screen blinked, and instead of a superhero trailer, a breaking news segment appeared.
On-screen, Judy Cho was front and center, a beaming smile on her face. Behind her, in crystal-clear high definition, was none other than Scott McQueen.
And standing next to him… was Bella Trevors.
The mega-famous award-winning actress.
They were kissing.
Passionately.
One more than the other.
Dark Elf froze as her mouth hung open.
The chips in her hand tumbled to the floor as she stared at the screen in horror.
One of the few times she really showed shock.
Judy's voice rang out cheerfully:
"Breaking news! Bella Trevors, one of Hollywood's brightest stars, seems to be locking lips with none other than Scott McQueen, America's latest eye candy! Could this be the start of a powerful new romance?"
The room went deathly silent.
Then, Gwen's and Emma's ears twitched.
They turned to the television in perfect synchronization.
Their movements unnervingly fast.
In an instant, Gwen evaporated into a dark mist to instantly reappear inches from the screen. Not to be outdone, Emma blurred into view beside her in a burst of speed.
They stared at the broadcast in stunned silence with their faces frozen in expressions of disbelief.
Finally, Emma broke the silence, screaming.
"AHAH! SHE KNEW IT!!"
Gwen's fists clenched as a shadowy aura began swirling around her.
"She's dead. I'm going to find her, and she's dead."
Dr. Goode slapped a hand over his face, groaning loudly.
"Of course. Of course, this has to happen…"
In the corner, Dark Elf muttered.
"Drama… nice…"
Before reaching for another chip.
･･･
Vincent Lakewood's Control Room
Vincent paced back and forth in a dark room filled with wall-to-wall monitors, each displaying various angles of the juicy content unfolding in the plaza.
Workers bustled around, typing furiously at their keyboards or whispering into headsets, though their actions slowed every time Vincent passed behind them as his towering figure held barely contained fury.
His sharp green eyes were locked on one particular monitor that zoomed in on Scott McQueen's smug, handsome face.
Vincent's jaw tightened.
His knuckles turned white as he gripped the edge of a nearby desk.
"No…"
Vincent muttered, shaking his head.
"No. It can't be. There's no fucking way."
He leaned closer to the monitor, scrutinizing every inch of Scott's face—the way his perfect, strawberry lips curled into that cocky half-smirk, the slight tilt of his head as if the entire world were beneath him.
The trench coat.
The attitude.
The precision with which he moved.
How did Pulsar dump this man? He thought.
"It's him…"
Vincent whispered hoarsely, his breath ragged.
His voice rose to a yell, echoing through the room.
"IT'S HIM!"
Every head in the room turned toward him, eyes wide in shock. The frantic clacking of keyboards stopped as his workers froze mid-motion.
Vincent slammed a fist onto the nearest desk, causing a coffee mug to topple and shatter on the floor.
"That sewer rat! That arrogant son of a bitch! How does Scott McQueen—a literal NOBODY—keep showing up and RUINING EVERYTHING?!"
He roared, grabbing a tablet and hurling it across the room.
It shattered against the wall.
Another monitor met the same fate as Vincent swept it off the desk with a vicious swing of his arm.
"GET ME PULSAR!"
He bellowed.
"SOMEONE TELL ME WHERE THAT CLOWN IS!"
One of the workers cautiously raised her hand, speaking in a hesitant voice.
"S-, Sir, we haven't seen her for weeks now…"
Vincent froze, his eye twitching.
"Motherfucker…"
･･･
Meanwhile, at the Plaza
The Peak could hear every word of Vincent's tirade through his communicator.
He winced but kept his expression neutral as he adjusted his high-tech visor.
『Jeez, take a chill pill, bro…』
His sticky hand twitched in embarrassment as he glanced at the lingering white substance and wiped it discreetly against the side of his super suit.
"Alright, alright…"
He muttered to himself.
"Time to fix this."
With a tap on his visor, a swarm of golden drones materialized around him, their sleek frames shining in the sunlight as they hovered in formation. Each drone had a camera, and they quickly began broadcasting a livestream.
Livestream Chat:
[Yo, was there supposed to be a stream today? 👀]
[Bro, my phone auto-started the friggin' stream… I was literally just… nvm.]
[Bet. It's SleazyPen. You were beating it to some weird anime girl again, huh?]
└ [Chill, how'd you fuckin' know?! I even changed my username! WTAF 😳]
└ [Lmao, SleazyPen, we ALL know it's you, bro.]
└ [Fr, bro's a platinum gooner, 130 badges 💀]
└ [Bro fr got exposed. 💀💀💀]
[LMAO, SleazyPen talking like we wouldn't know the horniest comment in the chat was him.]
└ [Bird found in the sky ahh revelation 😭🙏]
└ [Bread found in bakery ahh mystery 😭🙏]
[Anyway, why's The Peak looking like he just ran out of a McDonald's bathroom?]
･･･
The Peak cleared his throat.
His voice boomed as he addressed both the crowd and his virtual audience.
"Now, now, everybody calm down! My good friend Scott McQueen might've saved the day with all the little training I've given him, but let's not forget—the threat isn't fully neutralized!"
He gestured dramatically toward the fallen masked men.
"Behold! These villains haven't yet learned their lesson."
The attackers stared at him blankly, clearly confused.
One of them raised a shaky hand.
"Uh… are we supposed to do something here, or—"
The Peak stomped his foot, glaring at them pointedly.
"Oh, right, right!"
One of the men exclaimed, catching on.
He clutched his side and groaned theatrically.
"Arrghhh… my back, hurts… so much. We'll get you next time, The Peak, you handsome devil!" Continue reading stories on My Virtual Library Empire
The others followed suit, limping away as they wailed in exaggerated pain.
Livestream Chat:
[LMAOOOOO THIS IS SO FAKE.]
[Bro, did he PAY them to do that?!]
└ [Didn't pay them enough apparently 💀]
[Yo, why's his suit so tight? I can see his nips through the fabric. Even his strong ahh dih 😭]
└ [Shit so thick I can count the veins 👀… guess we know where all that human potential went to.]
[Nah, we ain't seriously skipping over the white stuff on his hand tho.]
└ [Plot twist: it's mayo from his burger.]
└ [Nah, that ain't no mayo. 💀]
[Bruh, this whole scene got me in TEARS. Who the fuck choreographed this mess? 😭]
└ [Shit gotta be Dhar Mann or sum 😭]
└ [Doubt. I ain't seen one racist joke so far 😡]
└ [Calm down, Uncle Ruckus.]
[But for real, why's Scott lookin' like the main character, and The Peak's just… there?]
･･･
The Peak's smile faltered as he read the flood of trolling comments, but he quickly composed himself. He turned back to Scott, his teeth gritted behind his forced grin.
"Oh, hey, Scott!"
The Peak extended a hand.
His voice was overly cheerful. Clearly fake.
"It's been a while, hasn't it?"
Still clinging to Scott's arm, Bella didn't even glance at The Peak. She gazed up at Scott with seductive, almost feline eyes as her voice stepped down to a low, sexy purr.
"That's The Peak? Hm… interesting guy, I guess. But for now…"
She leaned closer, her fingers brushing Scott's chest.
"Focus on me, will you~? ❤️"
Scott gently pushed her away, ignoring her disappointed pout, and strode toward The Peak.
The Peak's chest swelled with relief.
『The idiot's gonna shake my hand. See? Crisis averted. I'm a damn genius.』
But Scott walked right past him without a second glance.
His voice was low and cutting.
"Clean yourself up… you reek."
The Peak froze as his outstretched hand trembled.
The crowd and chat erupted.
Livestream Chat:
[OOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!!]
[Bro really tryna aura farm on The Peak? 😭🙏 That's like flexing your family photo on an orphan!]
└ [Bruh 💀…]
[Bro just ENDED The Peak's entire career.]
[Scott's him. He's THE guy.]
[Peak? More like MID.]
[Nah, Scott really just called him out like that ON STREAM. 💀💀💀 Doing too much fr 🤷♂️]
[Peak's ego just got sniped from orbit.]
└ [Then he should read his book – Climbing Life's Peaks: A Guide to Being Awesome Like Me!]
└ [While drinking some Peak Performance 💀]
---
The Peak stared at the ground.
Lost.
No words came.
Behind him, the drones captured every single moment of his humiliation, and the chat continued its relentless barrage of jokes.
Scott didn't even look back as he walked away and Bella trailed after him like a lovesick puppy.
The crowd roared with cheers, chanting his name.
Judy faced the camera.
"The Peak… might've just… I don't know…"