“Lisette!”
A teenager in a suit and tie suddenly burst in.
He didn’t even glance at Amber, his eyes locked straight onto Lisette as he strode over with a bright smile.
“Knew it was you!
Thought I was seeing things for a second.
That baby-faced assistant outside – is she yours?”
Amber was born for drama.
The moment she noticed a third person enter, she turned on the waterworks like flipping a switch, tears rolling non-stop, looking like she’d just been ripped to shreds by Lisette.
But Justin didn’t even register her existence.
He just grinned at Lisette.
“Got this suit just to see you.
Sharp, right?”
Lisette looked him up and down.
The kid had literally just turned eighteen, still with that over-the-top baby face.
In that proper adult suit, he looked like a kid playing dress-up in his dad’s closet.
Totally mismatched.
As his agent, Lisette gave a snort of disapproval.
“Congrats.
You’ve officially crowned yourself Worst Dressed of the Year.”
“Oof!
That hurts,” Justin clutched his chest dramatically like he might drop dead right there.
Feeling vaguely offended, he finally turned to Amber.
“What do you think?”
Amber kept sniffling like her life depended on it, tears streaming and makeup smudging beyond repair, looking every bit the victimized soul.
Might as well have tattooed “Lisette bullied me!” across her forehead.
Justin stared, confused.
All he got back were a couple of silent, glistening tear tracks.
He frowned.
“Why’re you crying?”
“I…” Amber was just about to launch into a full-blown accusation when Justin cut her off: “Ma’am, seriously, quit crying.
Your eyeliner’s a mess.
It ain’t cute.”
Amber nearly choked on her own breath.
“You seriously don’t know who I am?”
Justin blinked at her.
“Uh, should I?
Are you some kinda VIP or something?
Big-time star?”
He tilted his head, thinking aloud, “I’ve got a great memory, like elephant-level.
Never forget a face.
But you?
Total blank.”
Amber was shocked.
This place was cursed!
She couldn’t stand another second.
After messily wiping her face, she stormed out the way she came in – basically a whirlwind in heels.
But not before shooting Lisette a look that could probably melt steel.
Justin scratched his head, watching her leave.
“Did I say something wrong?”
Lisette chuckled, “You made a grown woman cry.
What do you think?”
Justin zipped his lips with an actual gesture, swearing to himself he’d be more careful next time.
With the overly dramatic Amber gone, Lisette dragged the triumphant Justin to her office.
Over the past two weeks, under Zachary’s leadership, VistaSphere kicked into full throttle.
Projects were popping off across every sector – reality shows, dramas, big-screen films – launching all at once like someone hit turbo.
Insiders were already giving rave feedback on several of the projects.
Add in the fact that VistaSphere had shelled out major money for top-tier directors and crews, and it wasn’t shocking that artists all over were falling over themselves to get a foot in the door.
With everything looking like it was about to blow up, agents were scrambling to lock in their talent – sending artists, scouting fresh faces, signing deals left and right.
Amid the frenzy, Lisette finally started her official run.
“Here’s your updated schedule.” Lisette said, handing over the file.
Aside from charging ahead with the three main content pillars, Zachary was also working hard to snatch up elite talents and train his own fresh blood.
Lisette had just stepped into the chaotic world of talent management.
The seasoned artists didn’t take her seriously, and the newbies weren’t exactly lining up to entrust their futures to some inexperienced nobody with zilch connections.
The only one who walked in voluntarily?
Justin – sent over by his own dad, like a clueless lamb to the slaughter.
Thing is, this boy hadn’t acted a day in his life.
No training, no basics, just blind passion and a dream of making it big.
Lisette barely blinked before throwing him into the rookie training camp.
The program lasted a month, and the schedule?
Pure hell.
Not just acting and film studies – she packed in body training, etiquette, emotional intelligence workshops…
basically everything to mold a raw kid into a proper star.
She believed in passion, sure.
But if he couldn’t tough it out, she wasn’t going to waste time.
Her roster might stay small, but her artists?
All top-notch.
Looking over the overwhelming schedule, Justin looked like someone handed him a death sentence.
He tried making his case with a sad face: “Eight hours of rest a day is already brutal.
Can we cut something out? Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Like, I already look good and have a decent figure, you know?
Maybe I don’t need those body training classes?”
Lisette shot him a look sharper than a slap.
“Kid, with that twiggy frame, you think you’ve got a good body?”
He pushed back weakly, “That’s what everyone says…”
She snorted, “Well, everyone clearly needs an eye exam.”
Once Lisette set her mind on something, there was no budging.
When Justin still looked like he wanted to complain, she shut him down with one line: “Remind me, who’s the talent manager here?”
“…You are.”
“Exactly.
Which means I call the shots.”
Not that she was totally unreasonable – there was a twinkle in her eye as she crossed her legs and gave him a relaxed grin.
“But hey, become a household name, win an award or two, and I might start asking for your opinion.
Until then, you’re on my schedule.”
With Lisette’s no-nonsense aura radiating full force, the poor newbie practically melted into submission, nodding like a good boy.
“Alright, I’m in.”
“Great.
Prep yourself.
One month of hardcore training coming right up!”
Justin groaned dramatically, “Can we not call it that?
It sounds like I’m about to get shipped off to boot camp.
I’m young and fragile, you know?”
Sometimes, surrender was smarter than fight.
Still, he threw out one last attempt, just in case: “I’ve met a bunch of actors…
None of them had it this rough.”
Lisette raised an eyebrow.
“You want to compare yourself with the basics?
Wake up.
You’re aiming for the big leagues, international stage and all!”
Justin froze.
“Face it.
The more life beats you up, the tougher you get.
That’s how you dominate.”
“…Fine.” Justin walked off with the air of a tragic hero going to war.
Lisette stretched, cracked her knuckles, then opened her laptop – ready to sneak in some stock-watching – when a message pinged in.
[Hey Lisette, are you coming to this year’s Christmas-New Year celebration?]
Sender: Evan Miles.
“Evan…” she murmured.
That name had been buried deep in a mess of pain, stress, confusion, and nonstop work from her past life.
If it weren’t for this message, she probably wouldn’t have remembered her twenty-two-year-old self was a senior voice major at Veridia University.
But as that name echoed in her mind, it shattered the mental lock she’d sealed so tightly— and from the darkness crawled those eyes.
Glassy.
Fixated.
Twisted with obsession.
She remembered now.
And she wished she hadn’t.