Claire didn't ride home in the BMW 325i convertible Cristiano had gifted him. Instead, Warner Records provided a Buick business van, along with a small celebrity support team—a sign of his rising fame.
Though calling it a "team" was generous—it was just three people: Welch, the driver; Violet, the personal assistant; and Delia, the assistant agent. Claire didn't bother with a bodyguard; he wasn't that big of a star yet.
Warner had also thoughtfully rented him a luxurious three-story villa in the affluent neighborhood behind Old Trafford. Since it wasn't coming out of his pocket, Claire had no complaints. With Jessica Jung supporting him, he wobbled his way inside.
Violet led the way, arms full of bags, while Delia nagged him like an overbearing aunt.
"NetEase Sports wants an interview tomorrow at 10 AM."
"Cristiano Ronaldo is having lunch with you at noon to discuss your lung recovery."
"Edgar Bronfman Jr. and his associates will meet you for afternoon tea to discuss your new song."
Jessica watched Claire's pained expression with envy but stayed quiet, simply admiring him as he grumbled at Delia.
Stretched out on the massive living room sofa, Claire watched Larry King Live and called out to Violet, "Do I have to clean this huge place myself?"
"The property management here is the same as at Old Trafford," Violet replied. "Your neighbor to the left is your assistant coach, Carlos Queiroz, and nearby are Cristiano and Ryan Giggs."
Jessica, holding the villa's property card, asked curiously, "Does Manchester United own all these houses?"
"Correct, Jessica."
Claire scoffed. "Perfect economic recycling—United earns, United spends. No wonder they're called the Glazers' cash cow."
Most players didn't live here because the rent and upkeep were too expensive. Even in the "golden league" of the Premier League, many United players couldn't afford it.
As for the high earners?
They lived elsewhere—Sir Alex Ferguson in a luxury apartment behind Buckingham Palace, Cristiano in downtown Manchester.
Claire glanced at Jessica, who sat nearby. He wasn't sure why she'd followed him home. After the press conference, he'd planned to wait for Park Ji-sung, but after a quick bathroom break, Ji-sung had vanished—phone turned off, too. Left with no choice, Claire brought Jessica along, making her the first girl to step foot in his new home.
"Wow, it's been so long since I've had proper British beef brisket rice!" Jessica exclaimed.
Claire nearly choked. What kind of fancy name is that? It's just stew over rice!
Violet, however, was impressively professional—not only was her cooking excellent, but she'd also picked up on Claire's interest in Sichuan cuisine from his interviews and whipped up a plate of Mao Xue Wang (spicy blood stew).
Claire was pleasantly surprised. "Violet, join us!"
"No, no! Company rules—I can't live under the same roof as clients. I've rented a place at Old Trafford Apartments. It won't interfere with your schedule."
Claire sighed as Violet hurriedly declined. "Fine, just leave the wine. Thanks for everything."
With Violet gone, the atmosphere between Claire and Jessica relaxed. Jessica kept giggling at Claire's messy eating, but he didn't mind.
"Oppa, let me pour you wine!" Jessica patted his back as he coughed, nearly choking on his food.
"Cough! Cough!"
"It's been too long since I've had food—almost killed me!"
Jessica seized the moment. "Ah, I miss home-cooked meals too! But I'm happy I'll be flying back tomorrow."
Claire perked up. "Wait, why were you in the UK? Ji-sung never told me."
"Mm…"
"We came to request a song—from Hans Zimmer and John Powell. But they turned us down."
Claire was stunned. He didn't know John Powell, but Hans Zimmer? The legendary Hollywood composer? Steven Spielberg's go-to guy? The man who'd greenlit One Day before Spielberg approved it?
"Damn, your company's bold. Most people start small, but you went straight for Hollywood royalty—and you're disappointed? Do you know how many people never even get to meet them?"
Jessica smirked at Claire's jealousy. "Oppa, you're amazing too! Your debut song hit the Billboard Hot 100—that's something many people envy."
As if words weren't enough, Jessica pulled out her phone, showing him Korean articles about his success.
At first, Claire was amused, but then a faint jasmine scent drifted into his nose. He glanced over—Jessica's cheeks were flushed from the wine, her breathing slightly uneven…