NOVEL WEB Chapter 219: PR Dreamboat
The camera flashes were blinding.
Scott McQueen stood at the center of a blizzard of white lights and microphones as his face froze somewhere between confusion and regret. Every reporter seemed to be shouting at once as their questions overlapped chaotically.
"Scott! Scott—how long have you and Bella Trevors been together?!"
"Bella Trevors is the daughter of a literal billionaire family and also its heiress… can you handle her?!"
"Is this relationship public? Does this mean you officially have more than two girlfriends now?!"
That last one made Scott blink.
His brow lifted.
Then a thought slithered in.
『… Wait. Shit. Did I ever actually tell Judy I had more than one girlfriend?』
He closed his eyes for a second.
『Oh, right. I did. That time at the hospital… fuck.』
He already looked tired, and now he felt it in his bones.
Reporters didn't give him time to breathe.
"Mr. McQueen, is it true you're signing the Glacier Water deal? The million-dollar one?"
"There's been a ton of speculation online—can you confirm or deny?"
"What's your diet like? Keto? Paleo? You look great!"
"Scott! As a man with multiple girlfriends—and frankly, a dreamboat for countless teenage girls and women—what's your ideal type? Please, tell our viewers!"
A woman in a red blazer asked, smiling just a little too wide, her mic shoved within kissing distance of his chin.
Scott didn't say a word.
He stood still. Calm. Distant. Almost… empty.
Then he felt it—Brigid pressing closer to his side.
She clutched at his jacket sleeve, trembling slightly.
With each flash and shout, she shrank more and more into him like a cornered kitten.
He glanced down.
She looked just like she did in the car—wide-eyed, quiet, very uncomfortable.
Scott's jaw twitched.
Meanwhile, on the far edge of the media crowd, The Peak stood with his hands clenched into fists so tight, his knuckles cracked. His lips peeled back in silent fury. His expensive neon shirt, his hours of hair and makeup, his whole entrance—all of it meant to secure attention, deals, coverage, praise—
Gone.
All of it sucked into the gravitational pull of Scott.
He was like a black hole for media attention.
He'd arrived without announcement.
Without fanfare.
Yet every mic, every lens, every livestream now hovered around him.
The Peak's own fanbase in his chat were no longer talking about him.
The livestream numbers were still strong, but—
[yo is that Scott McQueen??]
[HE'S THERE??]
[LMFAOOO Bella's new boytoy fr]
└ [definitely not, I know you guys have this delusion that Bella can't fall for anyone but everyone can fall for her, but this Scott we're talking about bruh 💀 he literally mogs William Roosevelt and Federico Almirón]
└ [y'all will be chopped and call the names of guys that can bag any woman in a snap]
└ [ong, touch grass 🙏]
[Who tf cares about Peak rn look at the aura difference
└ [FR, Scott out here aura mogging The Peak 😭]
[perfect hair, perfect face, perfect height 🤦♂️ this dude is everything we've ever wanted to be!]
[if I just take 10,000 cold showers with tactical soap, be confident and mew, this will be in no time]
└ [and if you can't, Ropemaxx! 😁]
└ [bro… 💀]
└ [none of us will look like him, he has good genes, idk what we did to deserve to be born the way we were]
└ [I'm at least an 8.5, y'all stay safe tho ✌️]
[When your best angle is every angle]
└ [my girlfriend has him as her wallpaper 😭]
└ [mine roleplays with him on Character AI, I'm done 🤦♂️]
└ [mine was searching on Amazon if he has a bathwater soap like Sydney Sweeney, she even searched for any of his used towels bruh 💀]
└ [she want some of that washed balls juice…]
･･･
The Peak's eye twitched.
He'd even taken a private jet to make it on time.
Booked photographers.
Styled products.
Worked with three PR agents. And yet—
Scott McQueen, with nothing but his face, a tired stare, and a rumor of Bella Trevors, had eclipsed everything.
And worst of all? It made sense.
Of course the media would jump at Scott.
He had that "it" factor. The look. The mystique.
The Bella factor didn't help either—especially after that long kiss at Golden Plaza. And her constant reposts of Scott on Instaflick, Chirper, Snapz—all of it painted a very clear picture.
Bella wanted him.
And if she wanted him, the world followed.
The realization killed The Peak.
It felt like a slow-turning blade inside his chest.
━ ━ ━ ━
Elsewhere, in a high-tech streaming studio, Bolt leaned back in his ergonomic gaming chair on Glitch, the LED lights around his monitor glowing a deep electric blue. A high-definition picture of Scott at the Blue Box convention center had just popped up on screen—he hadn't even spoken in the image, just stood there in the crowd, jacket slightly unzipped, a hand in his pocket, that faint, natural smolder on his face.
Chat was exploding.
[WHY HE LOOK LIKE HE IN AN AD FOR COLOGNE WTF]
[this man got no pores bruh]
[the flash said 'i got you king' smh]
[what my mom says I'll look like if I eat my veggies 💀]
└ [just checked your pfp, that ain't happening gng 🙏]
└ [17 and 5'4… yeah, you're done buddy 🪦]
[why he look like he glowing bruh…]
[God gotta be glazing this guy or sum, how good does your genetics gotta be to attain this level fo beauty, I swear this guy mogs most European models]
└ [ever thought maybe he's European? 🤷♂️]
└ [he's gotta be if he looks this good!]
└ [he's American bruh, I swear y'all always tryna claim all the beautiful people come from Europe 🙄]
└ [that's cause they do 💀 Europe is a facial warzone, I meet the love of my life every five seconds]
･･･
Bolt stared at the picture.
Then slowly, he dragged a palm down his face.
"Bro…"
He began, exhausted.
"How is this guy being mobbed by paparazzi and still coming out looking like he posed for GQ?"
He shifted in his chair.
"Nah, for real. This picture? Looks like one of those you find already inside a photo frame when you buy it. Like, the cameraman must've said 'look slightly to the left, chin up, now give me that immortal smolder—there it is' and somehow, Scott just delivered—without knowing it."
He groaned, laughing quietly.
"Man, if I tilt my face two degrees, I look like I'm having a stroke in low resolution."
Chat went wild.
[💀💀💀]
[I CAN'T BREATHE]
[bro, is the lighting at the convention that good???]
[I NEED a man to look at me the way Scott looks at… whatever it is he's looking at 😂]
[The best picture of Scott McQueen is always going to be the next one]
└ [holy glaze 💀 relax dawg]
━ ━ ━ ━
Over on a separate stream, PeeJay was slouched in his chair, watching ABC (American Broadcasting Corporation) News live coverage with his community on Chatterbox.
He was mid-stretch when he turned up the volume.
On screen, three reporters were in a studio reacting live to the media frenzy surrounding Scott.
"Just look how relaxed he is…" one said dreamily.
"Never seen an eighteen-year-old that calm."
"He has this quiet confidence, you know? And when you speak to him, the vocabulary, the poise… ugh, it's mature, it's hot, it's everything."
"Even the way he breathes, you can just tell he's a very organized person, wow…"
PeeJay paused the stream with a dramatic sigh, then threw his head back and laughed, hand over face.
"This is the most glazing I've ever seen in my twenty-six years of life, I swear!"
He said through chuckles.
"I… 'Look how relaxed he is?' WHO SAYS THAT?!"
He looked back at the chat.
"Bro, he's not even talking! They didn't even let him speak yet! They just started glazing raw. No seasoning."
Another soft chuckle of disbelief.
[NO SEASONING 💀]
[Glazing is crazy rn]
[relaxation lvl: Scott McQueen]
[you'd think this was BBC news with the way they're riding his meat so hard 🤦♂️]
└ [heh, I see what you did there]
･･･
PeeJay leaned forward.
"It's not even Scott's fault. I like the guy. It's just — when the media does this, they make fans set the bar way too high. Then when he finally says something normal like 'yo I'm tired' the same fans turn around and call him 'mid.' This cycle's toxic."
He muttered frustratedly—
"Media's like talent vampires. They find someone young and good-looking and just push. Pulsar. Irina Golovin. Now Scott. It's like… media pedo energy. They latch on and just start feeding."
He adjusted his mic right after.
[MEDIA PEDO ENERGY STOP 😭]
[he spitting tho]
[LMAOOO not wrong 💀]
[his vocabulary 😭😭🙏 insane levels of glaze!]
["I've never seen an 18 year old that relaxed" 😭😭 come on bro 😂]
└ [insane thing to say ong 😭]
[They want him to be the face of modelling so bad!]
･･･
PeeJay sighed and relaxed in his chair as sub notifications and gifts flooded the screen.
[20 GIFTED FOR THE RAW GLASS TAKE — "PeeJay for president fr!" 🔥🔥🔥]
━ ━ ━ ━
Back at the Blue Box building, the press had finally lost access.
But the fans? They flooded in.
Dozens of girls had cornered Scott inside, having seen the viral news on social media in real-time. He couldn't even see where Brigid, Marcus, or Sarah were anymore—he was drowning in flash photos, duck lips, and perfume.
"Scott! Scott, look here, pleeease~!"
One girl tried to angle her phone for a selfie, but another elbowed her aside and hugged him tight, one arm around his waist and the other raised in camera position.
"Smile!" she cooed.
Another girl yanked his sleeve. "No, no—look here!"
"No, look this way!"
Someone else pulled him from behind—girls clung to him like ivy.
From the stands, Sarah and Brigid watched with a cocktail of emotions.
Sarah frowned.
"Ugh… I forgot he wasn't as popular last SMPE."
Brigid stood with arms crossed, lips pressed tight, hair flaring from the huff she just exhaled.
"Fuck this…"
She rolled her eyes and muttered.
"I just wanted us to get in, get our badges, reserve my spot ahead of tomorrow. But this happens…"
She squinted at Scott, lips curling in frustration.
"… Sometimes it really feels like Lord Scott is just a friggin' attention whore."
Sarah blinked. "Damn, Brigid?"
Brigid's face immediately cooled and she looked away.
A small, embarrassed mumble escaped her lips.
"… Sorry. I-, I just don't… I don't have the best history with the press and all."
There was a shift in her tone—a sudden drop. Quiet. Sad.
Sarah was about to ask, but then caught Marcus pointing his phone at Scott with a huge grin.
"Uhm, what are you doing?"
"Oh! Streaming!"
Marcus replied brightly.
"Aunt Emma's boyfriend is a spanking fresh celeb, you know. I already got 4,000 live viewers!"
He panned the camera across Scott's now lipstick smeared face, laughing.
The fans were basically eating him alive.
[bro looking like a lipstick palette 💋]
[what my mom thinks happens when I leave the house in new shoes]
[brutal crowd mogging 🗿]
[he really looks like he wants to get out of there but still agreed to take pictures with them. aw such a sweetheart!]
[he looks so gooood KYAAAAHHH 😍]
└ [oh please! my 5'2 bald Indian janitor friend gets the same amount of attention everyday. 🤷♂️]
└ [it's all about personality tbh…]
└ [just say you're chopped bro, it's fine.]
[REF DO SOMETHING! 😭]
└ [FR, someone needs to stop me and Scott 😭✌️]
└ [who is bro? 💀]
･･･
The Peak watched all this, chest heaving, fists tight.
"This doesn't make any fucking sense…"
He muttered under his breath.
"What kind of PR monster is behind Bella Trevors? How the fuck did Scott become this popular? Sure, he has a huge ten million dollar contract with BlueForce… but he hasn't done anything. He's a fraud!"
He swung his arm angrily through the air.
Not even looking at him, Pulsar gave a side-eye and said with a flat voice—
"Hmm. Sounds familiar."
It should've been a clever burn.
But she was too distracted.
She was also staring at Scott.
Silent again.
What the hell was he even doing here?
Pulsar just stood there.
Watching.
Scott towered over the crowd of girls like some gentle god from an old myth.
They were all noticeably shorter than him—tiny, squealing, star-struck—and for some reason, that contrast made her face soften. Her lips twitched upward into a small, involuntary smile as she rubbed the side of her arm shyly. Her cheeks turned a little pink. She hated how much she remembered—how he used to lean down to her level, how his height would corner her like she was prey.
It used to make her feel so small.
And she used to love that.
『Hnn~ ❤️ I want him in me so bad…』
She bit her lip.
But then she snapped back to her senses.
『Ooop, why did I say that—?!』
Then, out of nowhere, one girl pounced on Scott with her phone out and yelled—
"Can you say 'I love you, Valerie!' please?!"
Scott blinked, but smiled anyway—mild, charming, unfairly smooth. He pulled her in like a natural heartthrob, leaned slightly, and whispered into the camera,
"I love you, Valerie."
The girl screamed, dropped her phone, and collapsed backwards into the crowd like she just got hit by Cupid's rocket launcher.
The whole thing just made Scott cringe.
『Err, I can't be that good looking…』
He sighed inwardly.
Brigid visibly winced, grabbed her chest like the words were sharp projectiles shot straight at her heart.
"God—! That stung!"
She hissed, curling forward.
"That actually hurt! It felt like someone just stabbed me with a knife made of betrayal and hot tears!"
And now the floodgates were open.
More girls surged toward Scott—touching his face, kissing his cheeks, grabbing his butt, one even climbing up on his back like a monkey in heat.
"SCOTT, I LOVE YOU!!"
"SCOTT, MARRY ME!!"
"YOU CAN FATHER MY FUTURE!"
"SHOVE A CUCUMBER UP MY ASS~ ❤️❤️!!"
Scott's eyes bulged as he tried to step back, only to feel a firm hand grip him where the sun rarely shines. It was a very firm grip around his shaft that was already slightly hard from the ample contact his crotch had made with the ass cheeks of many of these women.
The way the girl gripped him there told him she was shocked by his size, given how quickly they let go.
"WOAH!"
He yelped, jerking upright.
"Uhm—who just grabbed my junk??!"
Dead silence. Then awkward giggles. Most girls just stared at him like they were pretending to be innocent, except they had devil horns practically glowing above their heads.
One girl slithered up to his side and pressed her soft chest on him as she whispered huskily into his ear—
"Can you kiss me just once…? I won't make a big deal about it, I swear~"
Scott chuckled, smirked, and pulled back with a cheeky glint in his eyes.
"Oh no no no… my girlfriends wouldn't like that."
Then he gently patted her head twice, like she was a misbehaving cat.
Her eyes instantly dulled.
Her face puffed up like a pouting baby seal.
"… I feel so rejected."
All her sexual excitement was dead.
Brigid folded her arms tighter, gritting her teeth.
"Ugh! Look at them acting like they've been with him since the beginning!"
She stomped her foot.
"They don't deserve Lord Scott! I worshipped him before they even knew how to spell his name!!"
Sarah blinked at her slowly. "You okay?"
Brigid's eyes sparkled with aggression.
"I can read their minds, Sarah. Every single girl here wants to fuck him in the asshole."
Sarah's brow shot up. "Wait—really?"
"Yeah, I've served him for a long time now."
"No, the thing about his asshole."
"Oh—"
Brigid nodded like she was reading from sacred scripture.
"Well, what else do you wanna know? Of course. I mean, who wouldn't wanna grab those strong ass cheeks and just rail him until he's drooling and sobbing?"
Her fingers clenched between her legs.
"Don't you know how sexy the face of a pretty boy is when his asshole is all messed up? Mmmnn~ ❤️"
Her mouth was wet and slimy.
But her panties were even wetter as she moaned.
She moaned even more. Loudly.
Her knees buckled.
"Haaahh… ❤️ his ass is so tight! I can imagine his tongue hanging out as I'm—"
"Okay—NOPE!"
Sarah slapped a hand over Brigid's mouth like she was protecting herself from a demonic curse.
"That's enough, Brigid. Please."
And just when you thought it couldn't get worse—
"HEY!"
Scott suddenly yanked one of the girl's arms up.
She was holding… a butt plug.
A giant one.
The kind that had no business being in anyone's purse.
Scott blinked at it.
"Uh… what were you gonna do with this?"
The girl blushed furiously, looked away, and dragged her foot like she was a shy nun instead of the agent of debauchery she clearly was.
Pulsar had seen enough.
Her hands clenched into fists. Her face was already pinched and twitching. She hadn't said a word this whole time, but now… this was just gross. The touches, the kisses, the pure chaos—it was all so, so inappropriate.
The Peak just rubbed his temples like he'd completely given up on life.
"Ugh, Pulsar… let's just go meet Irina. I'm not dealing with this freak show anymore—"
He turned around, already walking.
"Pulsar, come on. Let's g—"
But she was already gone.
She floated forward.
All eyes whipped toward her.
"OH! It's Pulsar!!"
"PULSAR'S HERE!"
Reporters scrambled like cockroaches on caffeine.
One was already barking orders—
"Get the mic! Get the mic! She might talk about her new BlackTek fashion deal—"
"HOLY SHIT! Wait—has she answered anything about her boyfriend rumors yet?!"
Pulsar ignored them all.
Her voice boomed.
"LADIES!"
But the crowd didn't care. They were still clinging to Scott like human leeches with hearts for brains.
Pulsar's eye twitched.
She snapped her fingers and suddenly a shimmering, glowing energy barricade formed around Scott.
Most of the girls bounced back harmlessly.
But two were still hugging him.
Pulsar stormed forward.
BZZT!
She blasted one lightly, sending her tumbling back.
"YOU—go away!"
Then she looked at the blonde girl.
BZZZTT!!
"Especially you!"
Scott stared, dazed and blinking.
"Uhm… Ma—Pulsar…? It's you…?"
Her cheeks exploded red.
She scratched the back of her head, looking anywhere but him.
"Y-, Yeah, I just… I thought you were, yunno… uncomfy and stuff, so… I just wanted to help… maybe…"
Scott smiled. Genuinely.
"Oh, that's cool."
And that was it.
Pulsar short-circuited.
Her heart slammed against her ribs and her knees nearly gave out.
She stumbled back and clutched her chest like she was catching a heart attack.
『HE'S SO HANDSOME ❤️!』
Her brain screamed.
Her eyes were literally sparkling.
Scott tilted his head.
"Are you okay?"
"NO—I MEAN YES! I'M FINE, I PROMISE!"
She flailed her arms like she was fighting invisible bees.
The crowd outside the purple barricade grew rowdier.
"HEY! That's not fair!"
"Pulsar shouldn't hog him all to herself!"
"She's already SUPER rich and powerful! Why does she get Scott too?!"
Then one girl crossed the line.
"Scott doesn't even like flat-chested little girls anyway!!"
Pulsar snapped her head in that direction.
"HE DOES!"
Silence.
Her own hands flew up and slammed over her mouth.
Eyes wide.
She just realized she had screamed it.
Out loud.
And then—
From across the convention steps…
Jason Larkens and Vincent Lakewood walked outside.
Vincent saw them—saw Pulsar and Scott—standing there like some picture-perfect power couple.
His eyes stopped. Froze.
Then boiled red.
"What—?!"