Chapter 42: The Idol's Stylist

Ashma moved inside the arena. It was buzzing with people all over. Sound technicians were busy with placing sound equipment. The visual technicians were setting up the AV aids. Spotlights were being hung. Chairs were being added to the arena for an additional audience. Fireworks were being put in their place for the grand opening. The stage was being set, the final touch was being done. After a while, there was a grand function about to happen.

She moved backstage. Everyone was busy with something or other. As no audience was inside till now, the security was somewhat lacking. A huge crowd was waiting outside the arena waiting for the arena to be opened. Every employee, every worker was moving wherever they were needed. Ashma was looking for the green room where she could find both Salt and her Stylist, Jong Jin-Kyong.

She was known as the best stylist in the industry. But she had her dirty ways to get a dress from a designer. Ashma never liked her. She was what people called a vulture. She always used to trick innocent, novice designers into giving her their designs and she would take the credit for it. The poor designers did that for money as they had no other choice.

She saw a door labelled with Jin-Kyong's name. She opened the door and looked inside. It was empty, no one was there. She punched the door hard causing it to crack. Her martial arts training helped her as well as failed her at the same time. The martial arts helped her to break the door, failed her as it was unable to calm her down. Her negative energy was overflowing and positive energy was nowhere to be found.

She then looked around for Jin-Kyong. Suddenly she came upon a corridor that was packed with guards and lots of people. Everyone was storming in out. Some went in with water, some with juice, some with fruits, some with coffee. It seemed that the person inside was hungry since they were born and just saw the food. An occasional yell would come from the room and some or the other innocent person would come out crying.

She moved towards the corridor. Immediately a guard stopped her and said something in Korean. She looked at him eyes widened, she understood none of it.

"Sorry, no Korean, only English," said Ashma.

He again said something in Korean. She was at a loss. She thought of getting her phone out and using a language translator when another idea popped into her mind.

"Is there someone who speaks English," she shouted at the top of her lungs. The chaos stopped. Everyone turned and looked at her.

An important-looking man came running towards her. He was wearing a spectacle and his pockets were full of phones. He had a Bluetooth set on one ear.

"Yes, how may I help you?" he said politely.

"I am looking for Jong Jin-Kyong," said Ashma.

"Sorry, she is busy. As you know Salt is getting ready for her new album launch."

"This is about Salt's dress. I need to speak to Jong Jin-Kyong urgently," emphasised Ashma.

"Do you have an ID?"

"Do I look like I have an ID? Would I be shouting if I had an ID?" asked Ashma, frustrated.

"Then I can't let you in," said the man with authority.

"Then you all are going to be sorry when Salt scolds you all because of her dress. Leave salt I think your CEO will have some opinions," pressured Ashma.

"What is it about her dress?"

"This is the matter between Jin-Kyong and me," said Ashma.

"What did she do this time?" asked the man as it was the obvious question.

"That means you know what she does with designers," Ashma smirked at him.

He rubbed his temple with frustration and said, "I cannot let you in."

"What is your name and who are you?"

"My name is Pyo In-su and I am the manager of Salt."

"So you don't want to solve her dress issue. I can assure you that it's a matter of millions," said Ashma emphasising on money.

"Fine, come with me," said Pyo In-Su, defeated.

She followed him, everyone was staring at her but no one could recognise her as she wore a mask. Slowly she reached the door which was labelled 'Salt'. Pyo In-Su knocked and someone answered it in Korean.

He opened the door and both entered in. Ashma's eyes widened, they turned red with anger. Her nose flared after she saw what Salt was wearing. She wore an emerald green chiffon maxi dress with an angel sleeve. It was her design. It was her creation.

Before Pyo In-Su could say anything she shut the door shut, locked it and shouted, "who gave you the permission to give her my dress?"

Jong Jin-Kyong recognised that voice. She turned towards the masked woman and asked, "Chief?"

"Don't you call me that, I asked you a question, who in the hell gave you the permission?"

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"Hey! I know you, how dare you enter my room and why did you lock it?" asked Salt. Her sentence made the Pyo In-Su realise that the stranger who coerced him into taking her inside Salt's room locked the room. He immediately jumped towards the door to open it.

"Pyo-ssi, I wouldn't do that if I were you," warned Jin-Kyong. In-Su understood that she made a big mistake and wanted no one else to know that's why she wanted the door to be locked.

Ashma ignored all the nonsense drama that happened and addressed Salt, "I am not talking to you, I will deal with you later."

"Salt! shut up!" said Jin-Kyong

Salt's jaw dropped on the floor. No one talked to her like that ever. She was the star, she was the spoilt brat. She used to scold everyone not the other way around but two elders scolded her so she kept her mouth shut.

"Tell me," now Ashma addressed Jin-Kyong.

"Your employee," Jong Jin-Kyong said shivering.

"Oh did he? How?" Ashma moved a step ahead, seeing her moving forward Jin-Kyong moved backwards to maintain the distance.

"I have… have a paper… that… that says it," she said in a quivering voice. The manager and Salt were astonished as they never saw Jin-Kyong trembling. She was always so confident. She never made a mistake when it came to a dress but this time it seemed she overstepped her boundaries.

"Did you see my sign on it?" Ashma again moved towards Jin-Kyong.

Jin-Kyong gulped. Her lips were trembling. She knew Ashma was fierce and never wanted to go toe to toe with her. This time she chose her battle wrongly. "No," she replied.

"If she doesn't take it off right now, I will sue your company to kingdom come," Ashma gritted her teeth.

"You cannot, I have his signature on the documents," said Jin-Kyong after gaining some confidence.

"His, his sign, you think his sign matters? Fine. Let me give you a demonstration."

She immediately took out her phone and dialled a number. She put the phone on speaker. The phone rang completely but no one answered.

"That asshole." She again called the number. This time someone picked up the phone but didn't say a single word as if they were ready to receive the scolding.

"I told you to call me asap. Have you been sleeping or were you dead?" shrieked Ashma on the phone.

"Chief!" said a man from the other side of the phone.

"Who the hell do you think you are, Rishabh?"

"I made a mistake, chief, I am sorry," pleaded Rishabh.

"You will be sorry when I come back. Till then, you are fired," yelled Ashma.

"What?" asked Rishabh in surprise.

"You heard me, you are fired. Clear your paycheck with Priyanka and never show your face in my office. Do you understand?"

"But Ashma!"

"Do you understand?" shouted Ashma at her loudest.

"Yes," said Rishabh in a sad voice.

"Now get lost." She disconnected the phone and stared at Jin-Kyong. She waited for her to respond but Jin-Kyong was too overwhelmed with emotions. "Now, where were we? Yeah right, his signature over the documents. First of all, his signature never mattered. Even if it mattered for you, he is no longer a representative of my company."

"You cannot do this," cried Jin-Kyong.

"I just did. He is no longer an employee of Samvlta. I want my dress back, right now. Ask her to take it off or I will take it off myself, shouted Ashma.

"Your dress? You are DA? You are designer Ashma," said Salt in a quivering voice. She was sweating all over with fear.

Ashma removed her mask and revealed her face. Jaws dropped all over. Ashma was done with Jong-Jin-Kyong and now it was Salt's turn. Her sycophants were too stunned to speak. The designer all the girls admired was standing in front of them but was looking like a lioness. If it would have been some other circumstances, they would have run for her autograph but this situation was different.

The manager stood in the room like a statue. He had no idea how to react or what to do next.. He kept staring at Ashma.

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