“Yes—I’m selling you away,” Hazel whispered casually, as if she were commenting on the weather.
Billy immediately cleared his throat so hard it felt like he was trying to cough out his entire soul.
“Ahem! Miss Hazel… decorum.”
Hazel didn’t even blink.
She simply leaned forward, eyes sharp and sparkling with unsettling enthusiasm as they locked onto Fiona.
“Fiona,” she said crisply, “StarTalents Media is offering you a monthly retainer of $25,000.”
Fiona’s brain visibly stalled for half a second.
Hazel continued, unfazed.
“On top of that performance bonuses, brand endorsements, special project incentives… honestly, if you don’t faint, you could easily cross six figures in a single quarter.”
She tapped the folder lightly.
“In short? This isn’t a contract.”
A beat.
“It’s your ticket to the big leagues.”
Fiona swallowed hard.
The numbers weren’t just big, they were offensive.
Like they personally walked up and slapped her dreams into reality.
Her chest tightened.
Her thoughts scrambled.
Her future suddenly looked like it had too many commas.
She picked up the pen.
Paused.
“I… I understand,” she said, voice steadier than her soul.
“I’m ready.”
There was a beat of silence.
Hazel smiled faintly, sliding the final page toward her.
“Then let’s make it official.”
With a decisive stroke, Fiona signed her name.
The pen scratched across the paper like a heartbeat sharp, final, alive.
A new life sealed in ink.
Billy gave a slow, approving nod, as though confirming a calculation that had finally balanced.
Beside him, Hazel’s sharp gaze softened by a fraction just enough to hint at something dangerously close to genuine approval.
The deal was done.
And in that moment, it felt as if something invisible shifted in the air.
The door to opportunity had opened.
Fiona could feel it settle over her like a cloak thrilling, heavy, and a little frightening.
Something she was both stepping into and not yet ready to fully understand.
Then Billy stood.
He extended a firm hand.
“Welcome aboard,” he said smoothly.
A brief shake.
No excess.
No emotion wasted.
And then he turned.
His footsteps echoed once, twice before the door clicked shut behind him.
Silence rushed in.
Now it was just Fiona and Hazel.
Hazel stared at her for a beat.
Then suddenly—
She broke into a wide grin.
“Yo,” she said brightly, stepping forward, “you’re clocking the year.”
Before Fiona could even process it, Hazel suddenly pulled her into a tight, unexpected hug.
“I’ll make sure of it,” Hazel said, her voice dropping into something half serious, half chaotic promise.
Fiona let out a short laugh, pushing her back just enough to create space, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“As my manager,” she said, pointing at her like she was issuing a formal contract of her own, “I expect nothing but the very best.”
She added a playful pout, sticking her tongue out in mock challenges.
“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Fiona didn’t miss a beat.
“Oh, I absolutely do.”
Hazel turned toward the door, already walking like she owned the place.
“We’ll see about that.”
Their footsteps echoed down the hallway as the tension melted into something lighter, almost playful.
Without even looking back, Hazel raised a hand and flipped a bold middle finger over her shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah! To hell with that—I’ll do whatever I want!”
Fiona gasped dramatically and immediately sped up behind her.
“Hey! Try it and I’ll make your life very difficult!”
Hazel laughed.
“You already are my life!”
Fiona lunged forward like she was about to tackle her.
“That’s not the compliment you think it is!”
Their voices faded down the hall, bouncing off the walls in a mix of laughter, rivalry, and chaotic energy like two disasters that somehow decided to work together anyway.
They were still locked in playful combat as they moved down the hallway, elbows nudging, whispers sharp with laughter when the atmosphere abruptly shifted.
Ahead of them, staff members stood in composed clusters, conversations muted, posture suddenly formal.
Almost at once, Manson appeared, Brian at his side, both men walking with measured authority in their direction.
Manson’s gaze found Fiona instantly.
A slow, knowing smirk curled at the corner of his lips, subtle yet unmistakable, as though he were already reading a story only he could see unfolding.
Hazel reacted instantly.
The playful warmth in her expression vanished in a heartbeat, replaced by composed, razor-edged professionalism.
She straightened her posture, shoulders aligning with precise control, her entire presence shifting, no longer casual, but distinctly managerial, guarded, and unyielding.
The hallway seemed to tighten with that change.
Then a voice cut through it.
Cool.
Measured.
Absolute.
“Report to my office when you’re done,” Manson said, his gaze fixed on Hazel, never once acknowledging Fiona.
There was no emphasis, no need for it.
The command carried its own weight.
Without waiting for a response, he walked past them.
A subtle, wordless signal passed to Brian as he did, and Manson strode down the hall with unhurried authority each step calm, deliberate, and undeniably final.
A silence lingered in his wake.
Brian adjusted slightly, stepping forward as the atmosphere softened by a degree.
“On behalf of StarTalents Media, we welcome you to the firm,” he said formally, his tone respectful and steady.
“Rest assured, we will take care of you to the best of our ability.”
He inclined his head in a brief, professional bow polished, composed, and precise.
And just like that, the moment settled into something heavier, the quiet beginning of something far larger than Fiona had stepped into.
“Thank you, sir,” Fiona replied, her voice steady despite the weight of the moment.
Brian nodded once in return, then turned and headed after Manson, disappearing into the direction of his office.
Meanwhile, Hazel lingered where she was, silently taking in every detail of the exchange, her eyes sharp with understanding.
Fiona turned to her, irritation flashing across her face.
“Damn it,” Fiona scoffed, folding her arms.
“Did that jerk not see me at all?”
Hazel burst into laughter.
“Relax, girl,” she said, waving it off.
“Manson at work is a whole different creature from Manson outside these walls.” Her hand landed reassuringly on Fiona’s shoulder.
“Don’t stress, you’ll get used to it. But remember this one thing: be careful around him. He’s ruthless when it comes to business.”
Fiona’s expression shifted instantly.
She straightened, shoulders trembling exaggeratedly as she slipped into mock obedience.
“Sir,” she squeaked with deliberate sarcasm, “I promise I will do my very best.”
She bowed deeply, holding the pose just long enough to make Hazel groan, the hallway echoing with Fiona’s dramatics.
“Hahaha, you evil girl,” Hazel managed between bursts of laughter, wiping at the corner of her eyes.
Fiona slowly straightened, the playful act vanishing as defiance sharpened her gaze.
Hazel shook her head, still smiling, and gestured down the corridor.
“Come on,” she said, already turning away.
“Let’s get to my office.”
On arrival at Hazel’s office Hazel sat on her sofa around her desk while Fiona took the opposite chair only for Hazel to pass a schedule document to Fiona
“This is the schedule for now,” Hazel said, sliding a folder across the desk.
“You’ll be starting with a few small commercials I’ve already locked you in. Filming should begin by Friday.”
Fiona took the papers, her attention narrowing as her eyes skimmed the details.
“A toothpaste commercial?” she echoed, gaze fixed on the page.
“The script.” Hazel opened her drawer and pulled out a neat, modest stack of pages, setting it down in front of her.
“That’s it.”
Fiona read quickly, her expression shifting with every line.
“So I play a delivery person,” she murmured, “who meets a kid crying at a playground who is bullied because of his teeth?”
“Yeah.” Hazel studied her closely.
“You mad?”
Fiona looked up, resolve, settling into her features.
“Why would I be?” she said evenly.
“I’m a rookie. This is my first gig. I don’t expect to be handed a leading role right out of the gate.”
A slow smile spread across Hazel’s face.
“Good,” she said with approval.
“I love that spirit.”
Fiona’s eyes lingered on the paper again.
“We’re shooting at Santa Monica,” she said, voice low, almost as if saying it aloud would make it real.
“Yeah,” Hazel replied, her tone clipped, precise.
“Two locations. Target and the condo playground where the kid stays.”
Fiona nodded, pressing the script against her chest.
The stack was too long to fit into her small bag, so she hugged it like a shield.
“Okay, I’ll go home and rehearse,” she murmured, rising.
A faint twitch played at the corner of Hazel’s lips.
“Alright see you Friday,” she said, her voice low.
Then, almost to herself, she added, “Time to see Meanie, he specifically asked for me.”
“Work or scold you?” Fiona asked.
“Partly,” Hazel replied, pausing.
“And just work, talk, in the office.”
Fiona didn’t press for answers.
They shared a brief, unspoken embrace, the weight of unsaid words hanging between them, before stepping out of the office.
Then, they went their separate ways.
Fiona strode purposefully toward the exit, the hallway lights glinting off her hair as she stepped into the elevator.
Hazel turned toward Manson’s office, pausing briefly at Brian’s desk.
A few whispered words, a nod, and Manson granted her permission to enter.
One firm knock.
Hazel pushed the door open.
Across the room, Manson stood with his hands clasped behind his back, gaze fixed through the glass window.
He didn’t turn.
Yet, the weight of his stare pinned her in place.
Outside, Fiona was already boarding a car, unaware of the silent judgment waiting behind the glass.
“How prepared is she to work with us?” Manson’s voice cut the silence, sharp and chilling.
Hazel swallowed, unflinching, her voice calm and steady, edged with quiet certainty.
“She’s capable. Talented. And beautiful. You should have confidence in her.”
Manson’s smirk curved slowly, intrigued by her composure.
His eyes glinted with amusement.
“Confidence, huh?” he murmured, his tone sharp but lacking any bite.
“That’s impressive.”
Hazel met his gaze steadily, a faint lift at the corner of her lips.
The air between them thrummed with unspoken challenge and she didn’t flinch once.