My mother named me after Augustus. The Roman Emperor Augustus that reclaimed territories. All the characteristics paired with the Emperor, I encapsulated. Leader, warrior, lover, and loyal person. You know the prestige title. The reality television series Champion director instructed me to tell this scripted story instead of the truth, which was that my father and mother had no name. Well, they couldn't decide on a boy's name. Ten names were on a list and none of them were the one they picked. I was born a month early. So my parents had the most genius idea. How original.

I lived that fabricated Champion tale, along with all the other ones.

Why yes, my leadership was shown throughout my middle and high school years as the football quarterback.

No. I never played football in my entire life.

Yes, I acquired a black belt before the age of twelve.

Hell no, I couldn't kick my leg above my head. I had none of those flexible moves, other than the fact I could lift a woman with my legs around her torso. Priorities and all that.

Yes, I had the best experience with women before I auditioned for Champion. I knew how to kiss a woman, how and where women desired to be touched, and the differences between flirtation and seriousness.

I knew nothing. I couldn't even talk to girls throughout my adolescent life. My stutters made me sound like a wannabe rapper. I made no eye contact with girls. In all honesty, girls didn't flock over to me. With my acne that had more bumps than an iguana and twisted front teeth, my physical features deterred the girls.

Yes, my loyalty stayed with my family and friends.

This was the "truest" lie.

If there was such a thing, Min-ho would've given me a look. It became a lie during my high school years and when I transitioned into the real world. The shift took a major toll. Mundane retail and fast food occupations weren't satisfying. As fast as I acquired a job, the pace was similar to how quickly I stopped showing up. His mother yelled at me, "Attend college! Get a job! Do something. Anything besides laying around in bed!"

I had no good grades to display my dedication and passion, especially in the motivation department. I was nineteen when I auditioned for Champion: Season Four. I combed my messy curls back. I prayed that powder foundation covered the acne on my nose, my hairline, and forehead. The production of the show stopped in Cincinnati, Ohio. Advertisements promised large sums of money, camera time, and the best game experience within an enormous mansion.

I had nothing to lose. After waiting in long lines and interviews, I was not chosen because I answered the personality test correctly, my dashing smile, or my experience. It was my name and one physical feature. The casting director said, "Your eyes. Those are the eyes of a star."

Yeah, I knew. I believed the pun was intentional. But I never asked the casting director. I had three months before the production began. The poor make-up department had a challenge on their hands. They used magical powder, scissors, and designer clothes to upgrade my appearance. Dental work and eyewear helped.

On and off camera, I became what they wanted.

I lived those lies until my identity encapsulated all those characteristics.

"You look like a frog that swallowed its own tongue," Min-ho said in a tenor voice.

Tell me what you are actually feeling. I grimaced as I shifted my right leg over my left knee.

"Thanks," I responded, bringing the white ceramic cup of herbal tea to my lips. I needed all the organic remedies after yesterday's fiasco.

That woman.

I had met my fair share of women. I had been slapped, kicked, kissed, hugged, and trampled over. No woman had poured hot liquid on me.

I gently touched my inner thigh, and the soreness reaffirmed the whole experience. The hospitalization. The enormous bill that included an ambulance ride, emergency room time and space, and the ointment. She could have at least driven me to the hospital instead of calling an ambulance. The bill would have decreased by half the amount.

"You're quiet," Min-ho mentioned.

I glanced around the local Italian brunch restaurant: La Bella. All Americanized food and yet commercialized their Italian cuisines. At each table, the amount of people ranged from two to five. No one was by themselves. People engaged with their other person.

On the other side of the booth, a middle aged man sat. His lanky arms leaned on the table, his elbows tucked in closer to his body. Min-ho wore a fleece turtleneck sweater, navy skinny jeans, and crème vans. His skin seemed flawless. Nothing was perfect, and yet his non-scar face and his healthy cheeks gave him a warm complexion. His brown eyes waited for me to speak. We were having our annual lunch for the week. If one was busy, we made it a priority to eat out together once a week. But we always had lunch every day.

"Well," he sighed and a quick noise escaped from his lips, "Want to hear the bad news?"

"I already know," I announced.

"You know you're a jerk? I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but it's permanent."

I forced a sarcastic laugh. "Good one."

Min-ho smiled. "Thanks, I thought long and hard on that one."

"Not your best."

He nodded. "True."

He stretched further onto my side of the table. Salt and pepper bottles were left unattended. The empty napkin dispenser accompanied the bottle couple.

"You're running out of money," Min-ho said, in a serious tone, "I know you are. I've done the calculations."

He took a bit of his food, before continuing, "Why don't you sign the contract? I've read it three times, August. It's a phenomenal deal."

I leaned against the burgundy cushion.

He continued. "Champion plans on a reunion season – and they've asked specifically for you."

"You know my answer, Min-ho," I replied warily.

Min-ho rubbed his face.

"I know," Min-ho said, "I'm just concerned – not about the money or me getting paid because, let's be honest, I've basically been your free agent for a year – it's just that..." Min-ho sighed. "You've done no projects this year. No charities, parties, interviews, or small commercials."

His voice stopped and he shook his head. Then he stared at me. I was busy wiping the condensation off my mug. The mug had a cursive quote on front and back. The waitress blushed when she handed over the mug. My fingers grazed over her index finger. Quickly dismissing the light touch, she left without taking our order. She attained another table, hoping that the warmth would simmer down.

Min-ho's shoulders slouched back. His eyes wandered out into the restaurant, noticing the atmosphere. Waiters attended customers with their smiles, trays with breakfast meals, and drinks that ranged from orange juice to mimosas.

Why was he harping on me?

I knew that Min-ho was trained to ask different types of questions and knew when to ask them. I didn't want to answer anything...I wanted to just sit and enjoy the moment.

"What have you been doing?" Min-ho asked.

I rolled my eyes.

"I'm no longer talking to you as your agent – now, I'm your friend. I'm genuinely asking."

Min-ho and I met on the Champion audition. Min-ho was the previous season's winner and he encouraged the newcomers. I thought Min-ho was the cockiest person on set, but there was also an intelligence about him. I begged for Min-ho's guidance and experience in the television business. It wasn't until I came in fourth place and Champion aired that Min-ho said "yes" to my request to be my agent.

"The usual," I answered.

"That's such a bland response."

"I've been on multiple dates," I drank my tea. My eyes glanced outside pass the gate and building, where the pedestrian walk was located, by-passers were on their phones.

"Wait – your definition of dating or my definition?" Min-ho asked. A cheeky grin appeared on his lips.

"My definition." I took my spoon out and wiped it on the napkin near my wrist.

Min-ho's smile faded.

"How many women have you seen?" Min-ho's tone deep. Almost like a 'ugh.' He held his gaze. All this reflected similar to a parent catching their child in a non-respectable act.

My nose scrunched up.

"Two," I lied.

Min-ho had a blank expression.

"Fine, four."

Min-ho's right eyebrow rose.

I took another sip from my herbal tea. Two drops escaped and ran down my neck. "Ten," I told the truth.

Min-ho made a hissing noise.

"You're crazy," Min-ho replied.

We've never agreed in the dating department. Min-ho believed in pursuing one lady and being committed to her. He desired to spend time with her, doing chores and regular annoying everyday activities for her, and most importantly, he desired a family. Women have bluntly told him that he was clingy. That had torn Min-ho's confidence. He has taken a break from dating. His longtime girlfriend - they had dated for four years - recently got married.

"You shouldn't judge before you try."

Min-ho stared. "Nope, I'll continue to judge – as a friend."

Here we go -

"You deserve better. What is there to gain from these-" Min-ho continued.

I gave him a look.

Min-ho rolled his eyes. "Other than that."

Appraise, compliments, nothing harmful – other than the possibility of something physical. That woman popped into my mind again. She was an exception.

"I take it back. I don't want to know," Min-ho said, and then raised his hand to try and flag down our waitress. She fast-walked past us to another table.

Another sigh came from Min-ho.

"Okay – humor me. How do you even find these ladies?"

I pulled out my smartphone.

"The Internet is my best friend."

Min-ho held an exasperated expression. His nose scrunched up.

"No, you can't be serious."

I blinked. "I am."

"You can't be that popular."

I tilted my head. "Really, Min-ho? We're celebrities. Our headshots are worth a lot of money."

"Not yours," Min-ho teased.

I ignored his statement. "Look."

I handed over my smartphone to Min-ho. I pulled up the TrueMatch.com app and displayed all the comments on my wall. My smug never wavered.

"Those are all my hearts from women who are interested," I declared.

Another notification popped up on the top of my phone screen. I leaned over the table to see my phone while Min-ho held it.

"Usually there's a date that involves food or entertainment and then special time with them."

Min-ho mumbled something in Korean, and then started to scroll up and down all the comments.

"This is what you should be doing too, Min-ho. I have another account on AllsFairInLove and other cheesy websites," I continued.

"Wait – your name isn't-"

I brought my finger to my lips because Min-ho started to get loud.

"You're lying to these women! August, what the-" Min-ho leaned over the table.

"I'm not lying. It's protection."

Min-ho knew all about protection. After all, he was the one who taught me that during Champion. He continued to scroll.

I wanted the conversation off of me now. "You should make an account too, after the whole downfall with-"

"Who is Pansy McGrew?"

"I don't know."

"She left a pretty passive-aggressive comment on your wall."

I frowned.

"Let me see," I took back my smart phone.

I read the comment about how I was basically a good hook-up and disrespectful man. I tried to recall anyone by the name Pansy. Clicking on my private messages, I didn't see her name. We've never contacted each other before.

I never met this woman. Why would she state this negative response?

"She wants attention," I replied to Min-ho, "All the other women are funny, kind, and smart. She thought she had to be different so she took the mean route."

Min-ho slightly nodded.

"Did you see Susan Pretty's comment? I think there were others, too, like – Anita Moore, Rita Clemons – oh, I don't remember. There were others."

I flipped back to my profile page. All over my wall in the past twenty-four hours were nothing but passive-aggressive comments. Other ladies responded some in a nice and sad reply that they couldn't believe "Oliver"– or really me – would do such a thing. Whereas other women defended my good name.

Where did this come from? Who in their right mind would do? I stopped.

I chuckled.

That cheeky woman. The woman who nearly ruined my pride and joy.

My teeth gnashed. Clicking on the private messages, I typed up a message.

Min-ho laughed at my distress.

"Man, you've made your whole life a drama," Min-ho said. He shook his head as he took a sip from his no-ice water.

My fingers stopped typing. I brought my phone down and stared at Min-ho.

"I might have an idea for my next project."

Hello!

Thank you for reading this new chapter. What do you think? So much information about August, his past and present. Although, I feel like there's still some unanswered questions like: and

So many questions and all will be revealed. I hope that this chapter was fun, enjoyable, and interesting being in August's mind for a bit.

What do you think of August's friend, Min-ho! I love Min-ho.Oh my gosh, I got super excited writing and creating his character. He is a little bit of a goodie two shoes but he's definitely more than that. I've been watching a ton of k-dramas for a couple of months now. I pictured Min-ho as from "Strong Girl Bong-Soon."

I mean ...

Look at him!!

He's adorable and nice! Goodness, I can't handle it. He's fantastic!

Alrighty, I think I'm all done with my fan-girl moment. (I recommend watching that show. It's on Netflix. I'm currently watching on Netflix too and it's great.)

Again, wow! This chapter was super fun!

Thank you for continuing to read this story, getting involved with the characters, voting, and commenting. Comments make me giggle and smile. I love the communication.