On the short flight, the three actors had the uncomfortable experience of being stared at for hours, as a good number of passengers rewatched the first two episodes of BSPH on seatback screens.
Averie had the worst experience of the three as he was seated near a young girl who enthusiastically kept asking him questions about the show.
"But Belphegor and Beelzebub aren't that impressive, are they?" she said, reaching into her purse to fix her makeup. "They just talk. I mean—it's really good, and their characters seem impressive. But—how should I put it—"
"They don't do much?" Averie replied, having given up on his quest for sleep.
"Yeah!" The girl clapped her hands lightly. "Every other character seems dangerous and on edge. It's thrilling, and I am always holding my breath, wondering if they will suddenly become violent."
She furrowed her brows.
"But those two are always so relaxed—it never feels thrilling. I like that change of pace too, but it feels like a waste of good characters when they could be so much more. Are they only there to provide exposition? Are they going to keep talking till the end of the show? That would be a bummer…"
She continued on and on.
Averie pondered on it.
The girl wasn't entirely wrong. Belphegor and Beelzebub's job was indeed to provide exposition, but they did it very well.
He thought that without knowing what would happen in the rest of the drama, the audience—not unlike the girl—might think the same way.
'But they are not just there to provide exposition,' he thought, tapping his fingers and observing the girl. 'Every little thing they say, the pause in their lines, the direction of their gaze, and even the way they sit—all of it tells a story.'
The girl lowered her voice, looking at John Strom who sat some distance from them. "The others are so impressive that Belphegor might not receive much love from the people."
Averie thought that it was either a very clever way of making a point or the most adolescent way of thinking. Whatever it was, it wasn't entirely wrong.
He smirked. "Who knows; he just might."
Belphegor was the best example of "show, don't tell," even though his supposed job was indeed to tell.
Soon, the plane landed at Haneda Airport, Japan.
While going through all the procedures, Averie and the others spent some time signing autographs and taking pictures with some of the passengers.
"Say butter on top of cheese—"
The girl hugged Averie with a genuine smile while Hyerin took their picture.
She liked seeing strangers appreciate her friend and his work. She liked that they viewed him so positively, and she loved it when they asked for pictures. She wasn't one for the spotlight, but she had always thought of her friend as the glamorous sort.
"My friends are going to be so jealous," the girl said, checking the photos. "Oh, how about you pull my hair like Sarah, and—"
"No," declined Averie.
Even he knew better than to pull a stunt like that at an international airport.
"Just for the photos—"
"No," Hyerin too rejected.
For once, her friend was behaving with some sense. She didn't want anyone to take that away.
After bidding farewell to the girl, Averie and the rest traveled to their accommodations. Thankfully, no one in the country seemed to know who the three were—although very rarely, girls would stare at them. This wasn't something new to Averie; he was used to such attention even when he was a nobody in his previous world.
"Feels good to be ordinary," he muttered.
***
Meanwhile, Yun-Ha Byun—who had woken up early to study—was chatting on an online forum for the newly created fan club AQuinn. In just three days since its inception, it had managed to garner more than 10k members.
It was the gathering place of those dedicated to Averie, and most of the posts on it were sexy pictures of him taken from BSPH. They were all fanatically titled 'The Quinn.'
Yun-Ha was obsessed with looking at every single one of those posts. And even though she knew she shouldn't, she would read the comments.
Unsurprisingly, the comments section was a den of horny creatures beyond salvation. The things they dared to say would surely land them in Hell, yet they never stopped uttering profanities. They were filthy degenerates obsessed with Asmodeus Binsfeld. No god or spirit could help the poor souls on that forum.
In their own way, they were paying homage to a character well-played. Instead of reviling him, they cherished him. And in such a cultish manner, they came to love Asmodeus—someone who did not exist.
The degeneracy—and the subsequent creation of the fan club—had begun with a simple post on one of the anonymous forums dedicated to making confessions.
The post read:
[Okay, I can't keep this bottled up anymore. I have been struggling for days. I need to confess.
Confession: I find Asmodeus from Binsfeld's Seven Princes of Hell extremely hot despite all the red flags.
Am I wrong for liking him? Am I bad?]
The post garnered a lot of attention. And the most liked response was:
'No dear, you are not bad. You are just horny.'
It became part of the glorious meme culture. Every post—relevant or not—had at least one comment that read: You are just horny, dear.
While Yun-Ha was going through the pictures, a new post was made. And like an addict, she rushed to it.
"Is that an airport?" she muttered, gleaning every little detail. "Are they in Japan?"
The post had photos of Averie posing alongside a young female passenger.
The title of the post read: The Quinn, in all His glory, blessed me with His presence. Praise me, I have conversed with Him.
Jealous, Yun-Ha was about to type some truly biblical verses when the door to her room slammed open, and a lady a few years older than her entered unannounced.
"I knew it!" she bellowed, pointing a finger at Yun-Ha as if she were a criminal. "I knew you weren't studying!"
"Who said you could enter my room like that, Min-Ha?" Yun-Ha replied, fiddling with her phone. "And I was studying. I just took a little break."
"Oh, break, is it?" Min-Ha said sarcastically.
"Yes."
"Then, what is that?"
She sternly pointed at Yun-Ha's bed, but there was nothing unusual there.
Taking advantage of the confusion, the lady—who happened to be Yun-Ha's older sister—snatched the phone from her scrawny sister's hands.
"Give it back, you failure of a fashion designer!" Yun-Ha cried, jumping at her sister.
With a devilish grin, the lady spared the horrified girl a glance. "Let's see what you are actually doing—"
Before she could finish her sentence, Min-Ha froze in place.
The amber eyes that stared at her through the screen captivated her entire being immediately.
"Who is this?"
And with absolute reverence, Yun-Ha answered, "The Quinn."