I Accidentally Became A Superstar - Chapter 395 395: What Do You Know?

The stage lights dimmed, and the piano’s bouncy rhythm faded into a lower, simmering hum.

The cheerful One Week (Of Smiles) was still lingering in the audience’s ears, but the atmosphere had changed abruptly.

The set changed—gone were the suitcases and “HOME” signs, replaced by a dim living room scene. One couch, one small dining table, and an old grandfather clock ticking in the corner.

The brothers were spaced across the stage like they were defending their own territory. No one looked at each other for more than two seconds.

Monday, also known as Mond, leaned back against the couch, arms crossed, chin tilted with the authority only the firstborn could claim. His voice was low at first, but dripping with condescension.

“We don’t even need to have this conversation. I’m the oldest. The house, the land—it’s my responsibility to take over. It’s what Dad would expect.”

Tuesday, with his nickname Chou, was still wearing his robe like the freeloader he was. He shot his brothers a glare from his seat at the table.

“Responsibility? You left. I stayed. My kids grew up here. My wife keeps the place running. I’ve been taking care of Dad while you’ve been… what, fixing cars halfway across the world? If anyone deserves it, it’s me. I need a chance to actually live without worrying where my kids will sleep.”

Mond scoffed loudly, leaning forward. “You had years to get your life together, Chou. Years. And you’re still leeching off Dad. You think inheriting this place will suddenly make you a man?”

Wednesday, with the nickname of Woody, raised a hand in an attempt to mediate.

“Alright, alright, let’s not act like we’re ready to throw punches. Here’s an idea. We don’t split it physically, but we share the rights. When we want to come home, we come home. No one gets cut out completely.”

There was a moment of silence. Then the sneer came from both sides.

“Of course you would say that,” Mond scoffed.

Chou nodded in agreement. It was the only time he would agree with his older brothe. “Yeah, easy for you to preach ‘sharing’ when you’ve got money in the bank. You don’t need this place. You’re just playing peacekeeper because it’s convenient.”

Woody’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t reply.

Zeno’s jawline was caught on the screen, and Misha internally rejoiced.

From the corner, Thursday, also known as Theo, finally spoke, his rosary glinting under the light as he clutched it tight.

“You’re all forgetting what’s important. This land could be used for something greater. In the name of God, I could turn it into a mission home and help people who actually need it. Not… argue over who gets the bigger bedroom.”

Friday, Finn for short, scoffed. “Mission home? Please. We all know you’d turn it into a shrine for yourself. Dad’s favorite son, the holy one. Guess what, Father Theo—Dad’s favorite is actually me.”

Theo straightened, indignant. “Don’t—”

Finn cut him off. “Oh, I know. I’m the youngest. The most coddled. The one Dad would bail out even when I deserved a kick in the ass. And you know what? I’ll take it. He wants me happy. Which means he’d give it to me.”

The audience could practically taste their loathing in the air. Every line was like a stab to the gut.

Janie was watching from her seat in the judges’ panel, her lips curved upward ever so slightly. It seemed they channeled their lack of positive chemistry for the better.

Mond’s hands clenched at his sides.

“You’re a spoiled brat, Finn. You wouldn’t last a week taking care of this place.”

“And you would? You can’t even fix your own life, Mond, but you think you can fix a house?” Finn casually asked.

Chou slammed his mug down so hard it rattled on the table.

“You’re all talking about who deserves it. None of you stayed like I did. None of you know what it’s like to keep this place running when Dad can’t even walk up the stairs anymore!”

Woody stepped in, his voice firm but not loud. “Enough. We’re not getting anywhere like this. Dad’s still alive. And he’s already said what he wants—”

Chou cut him off, looking straight into his eyes. “Yeah. He wants us to get along. Which we won’t.”

It was hard to breathe with their conversation. The lights shifted to a warmer glow, and the brothers were suddenly gathered in the living room again—but this time, the father’s bed was visible through a dimly lit window projection in the background. The brothers were standing shoulder to shoulder, smiles plastered on their faces like cheap masks.

They laughed too loudly, patted each other on the back, and even clasped hands in fake brotherly solidarity. The “smiles” scene lasted just long enough for the audience to see the awkwardness.

Mond was the first to step forward. He crouched beside the invisible boundary of the “bed,” speaking loudly enough for the shadow to hear. “Dad, I checked the porch steps this morning. They’re rotting. I’ll replace them this weekend. No charge, of course. You know I’ve got the tools.” He chuckled like it was nothing, but his eyes flicked sideways to see if the others had heard.

Chou was right on his heels. “Dad, you shouldn’t drink coffee anymore—it’s too hard on the heart. I made you your favorite herbal blend. Remember how Mom used to make it?”

His voice dipped into a gentle softness. He set the mug on the side table with care, then straightened and gave Mond a smug look.

Theo moved in like a priest approaching an altar. He placed a hand on the back of the bed and murmured, “I’ve been praying for you every day, Dad. And for the family. I’ve even spoken to the bishop about holding a special mass in your honor.” His words were heavy with solemnity, as if it were supposed to be a moment no one could interrupt.

Finn, not to be outdone, strolled in with a bright grin, dropping to one knee beside the chair like a knight at court. “I picked up that snack you like—the one from the shop two towns over? I had to borrow a car, but hey, you’re worth it.” He set a paper bag down, making sure the others saw the brand. “No one knows you better than me, Dad.”

From the corner, Woody didn’t move. He didn’t fetch tea, didn’t kneel, didn’t offer grand gestures. His eyes tracked the others with a mix of irritation and resignation. He was the only one who didn’t seem interested in earning points.

The shadow in the bed coughed again and muttered something too soft to catch. All four competing brothers responded at once — “Need a blanket, Dad?” “Want me to fix the light?” “Should I get the priest for a blessing?” “Want me to run to the store again?”

It was chaos disguised as care.

When they finally drifted back from the bed, the warmth of the lighting didn’t follow them. They gathered near the doorway, voices dropping the moment they were “out of earshot.” The golden glow faded into something harsher.

Mond broke first, muttering under his breath. “We all know why you’re doing this. Trying to butter him up so he’ll sign the place over to you.”

Chou shrugged, unapologetic. “Maybe. But at least I’ve been here. I’ve put in the hours. You can’t just waltz back in and take it.”

Theo’s voice lost its priestly calm. “And what would you do with it, Chou? Let it rot while you spend your days sleeping in?”

Finn stepped in, smirking. “You all are wasting your time. I’m the one Dad actually listens to. He’s not going to give it to someone he barely talks to anymore.”

That’s when Woody finally spoke, stepping forward with a sigh. “You’re all ridiculous. This isn’t a competition.”

The others turned on him in unison. Their despite for Zeno was truly different.

“Easy for you to say,” Mond snapped.

“This is frustrating,” Risa muttered. “Why can’t they just listen to Zeno?”

“You mean—Woody?” Shin asked out of amusement.

Risa cleared her throat. “Right—Woody.”

The scene continued on the stage.

“I’m not dropping this. I need this property,” Finn said.

“Need? You want it,” Theo sighed. “And don’t act like you’ll use it for anything worthwhile.”

“You think this is a joke? I have mouths to feed.” Chou exclaimed.

“All of you—shut up,” Mond added, using his authority as the oldest. “The property is mine.”

“Can you all just suck it up for a moment?” Woody asked, breaking the silence with his deep, smooth voice.

“Dad’s dying. He just wants a week of peace before he’s gone. One week. We can fight after. You can even stab each other if you want.”

Mond rounded on him, eyes blazing. “Why the fuck are you so adamant about making all of us get along well? We hadn’t done that in years, you bastard.”

Bacon PD’s eyes widened. He didn’t know his son could act that well. The others in the viewing room thought the same. Oska could actually act vulnerable.

“Stay out of this conversation, Woody,” Theo said.

Woody closed his eyes. “Seriously? Even you, Theo?”

Chou sighed. “It’s true. You’re not a part of this conversation. You swoop in with your perfect job and your perfect life, pretending you’re the moral high ground.”

Chou stepped forward, jabbing a finger into Woody’s chest.

“You don’t even know what it’s like to struggle, Woody. You don’t know what it’s like to have everything riding on this one thing. You don’t get it.”

The air was tight and heavy. No one broke eye contact. Then—

The soft hum of the piano began again, low and slow.

The lights shifted.

The audience knew another song was coming, and it was time for Zeno to sing it.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by novlove.com