Gangster to Idol

"Do you even know how to make one?" Fifi asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course. What do you take me for?"

"An idiot," Fifi shot back without hesitation.

Cain chose to ignore her jab. "After that, I'll use apps and video tutorials to sharpen my idol skills."

Fifi couldn't shake the uneasy feeling as she watched Cain's sudden burst of enthusiasm about becoming an idol. It seemed the looming deadline had finally lit a fire under him, and the pressure of time was pushing him harder than ever before.

"You should do something about your hair first," Fifi remarked, fluttering around his head like a concerned stylist. "A handsome appearance is half the battle won. It'll definitely draw in subscribers."

"Yeah, yeah, we'll get to that," Cain muttered. "But right now, I need to focus on setting up accounts on BuzzVid and InstaPic."

"Are those the popular social media platforms here?" Fifi asked, already pulling up data on her Goddess Screen.

"Hmm . . . BuzzVid's the top platform for watching content creators and celebrities alike. They've got over five billion users," Fifi said, reading from her notes. Her eyes widened slightly.

"Wait, five billion? That's insane! It feels like a scam!"

"Obviously, some of those users have multiple accounts," Cain replied, his tone dry.

"Figures . . ." Fifi continued. "And then InstaPic is where you post pictures and messages. Seems like a good place to start. But with so many users, a nobody like you might struggle to go viral and gain followers.

A handsome face only gets you so far."

Fifi snapped her screen shut and began circling Cain again, her energy renewed. "Alright, your first order of business should be creating a viral video and an eye-catching pic. Post them, and you'll gain followers right away!"

"That's easier said than done," Cain countered. "Going viral takes more than just effort — it takes luck. Sure, controversy can draw attention, but without an online presence or a fanbase, who'd even care if I posted something controversial about myself?"

Fifi's eyes sparkled with newfound admiration. "You're surprisingly knowledgeable about this! Could it be that you—"

"NO," Cain cut her off instantly. "It's just common sense. Anyone could figure that out; you don't need to be a genius."

Fifi huffed, but her smile didn't fade. "Alright, mister common sense. Let's get to work on that video and pic, shall we? Your journey to stardom starts here."

"Already done," Cain said, holding up his phone for Fifi to see.

"Eh? 'C.C.'?" Fifi frowned. "You're going by that alias?"

"That's right. I don't want anyone to know it's me, after all," Cain replied casually.

"Yeah, 'Cain Carter'—totally not obvious at all," Fifi deadpanned, her sarcasm cutting through the air.

"Shut up. I'll come up with something better later. For now, this will do."

"So, what are you planning to post? InstaPic is easy — you just need a good picture. But what about BuzzVid? Do you even know how to edit videos?" Fifi asked, her doubt evident.

"I'll cross that bridge when I get there," Cain said, brushing off her concerns as he headed toward the bathroom. Before he stepped inside, he made sure to lock the door securely. The last thing he needed was Joker barging in and catching wind of his plans — or worse, finding out he was trying to become an idol.

His image as the gang leader would crumble in an instant if that happened. No way was he letting that go down.

Cain removed his wig and stared at his reflection in the mirror. Fifi was right — his hair had turned into a flat mess, practically plastered to his forehead.

Without a word, Cain reached into his drawer and pulled out a forgotten bottle of gel. It had been a gift from one of his gang members, but he hadn't touched it in so long that it was practically collecting dust.

The expiration date had passed two years ago, but Cain didn't care. He squeezed a generous amount into his hand and began working it through his hair with a nonchalant ease.

"Hey! What are you doing?! That's expired! You'll ruin your hair!" Fifi exclaimed, trying to stop him, but Cain was already combing the gel into his hair, brushing it back in whatever way seemed right.

Fifi pouted. "I don't care anymore."

Cain's attempts at styling his hair were nothing short of chaotic, each one more hilarious than the last.

Cain squeezed out way too much gel and, in an attempt to make his hair spiky, ended up with stiff spikes sticking out in all directions. He looked like a porcupine ready for battle, with random strands jutting out in every direction. Fifi couldn't stop laughing, pointing out that he resembled a medieval mace.

After realizing the spikes were a disaster, Cain tried to flatten everything down, but used so much gel that his hair became a shiny, rock-hard shell. His hair was so slicked back and solid that it looked like he was wearing a plastic helmet. Fifi joked that he could walk through a storm and not a single hair would move.

In an attempt to go for a more casual, messy look, Cain ran his hands through his hair over and over, trying to create that perfect "just got out of bed" style. Instead, he ended up with a lopsided mess, with one side sticking up while the other was completely flattened. It looked like he had been electrocuted on one side of his head.

Desperate to salvage the situation, Cain tried to add volume by fluffing up his hair with his fingers. Instead of looking full and stylish, his hair turned into a frizzy, uneven bush. It looked like an overgrown hedge that hadn't been trimmed in years. Fifi teased him that he could hide small animals in there.

Cain attempted a side part, but his lack of experience showed. The part was way too far to one side, making his hair look completely unbalanced. One side of his head was slicked down while the other side was left with a thick, bushy wave. Fifi commented that it looked like his hair was trying to escape from one side of his head.

When all else failed, Cain decided to comb his hair straight down, hoping for a clean, simple look. Instead, his hair framed his face in a round, flat shape, making his head look like a coconut. Fifi couldn't stop snickering, pointing out that all he needed was a straw and he'd be a perfect drink at a tropical resort.

After one failed attempt too many, Cain simply wet his hair and tried to shake it dry, thinking it might fall into place naturally. Instead, his hair clumped together in wet strands, leaving him looking like a drenched dog who'd just been caught in the rain.

Fifi couldn't resist laughing at every disastrous attempt, making him even more frustrated with the whole process.