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The shooting location was tucked behind a renovated warehouse in the high-tech district, where the sun hit the glass walls just right, turning the surrounding area into a glaring sheet of light. Cars rolled in and out of the front, crew mbers rushed around holding props bigger than their bodies, and soone was yelling about lighting from across the courtyard. It was a chaotic scene.

Micah adjusted the strap of his bag and stepped inside the main studio. The air slled like coffee, sweat, and hot cables. He scanned the bustling crowd for the director and spotted her almost imdiately.

Evelyn, usually the picture of calm professionalism, the kind of woman who never lost her cool on the set, had turned into a full-blown banshee.

"Left side panel! LEFT! No, don’t tilt like that, are you trying to blind the actor? Move it two steps back! TWO STEPS! Why is no one listening to basic instructions today? Did you all forget to bring your brains to work?"

She clapped her hands sharply, and three staff mbers scrambled like panicked ducklings. Her headset was crooked, her black blazer hung half off her shoulder, and a pen was stuck like a dagger through the bun of her hair.

Micah gulped. The woman was too intimidating.

As if sensing him, Evelyn whipped her head around, and the mont she recognised him, her expression lit up. The fury lted into sunshine.

"Ah! You’re finally here!" she exclaid, strolling toward him in a flash.

Micah bowed politely, hands behind his back, posture perfect. "Good afternoon, director."

She let out a long sigh. "I was worried sick, thinking I had missed the chance to have you here today. That shrewd chief assistant! He went ahead and contracted another person, without even consulting . Can you imagine?" Evelyn said, gritting her teeth. "Ignoring the creative director as if I don’t exist? I thought this project was dood."

Then she patted Micah’s shoulder affectionately. "But now that you are here, I can breathe with ease."

Micah blinked and fell into thought. Chief assistant... did she an that man? The one who saw him with Willow the other day and misunderstood? Assuming so non-existent scandal? The one with the attitude of a knight in shining armour, trying to rescue Willow from him in the elevator?

So he had tried to double-cross the director. Mmm... interesting. Soone this close to Willow, the vice director, sabotaged the project for sothing as petty as jealousy? Because of personal feelings?

He should return the favour generously.

Micah smiled sweetly, tilting his head with the kind of innocent charm that could soften concrete. "Director, I am really grateful you thought so highly of ."

Evelyn stared at him for a beat in a daze. Then she barked out a laugh. "You..." Her finger pointed at him, shaking. "Such a warm smile. Keep it for the shooting!"

She had seen far too handso and beautiful n, but still, this young man was sothing else.

"Go on, let’s get your make-up done quickly. And here, this is the script, morise it in the anti." Evelyn handed him a neatly folded sheet. "Hopefully, we wrap before sunset."

Micah accepted it with both hands, nodding. "I’ll make sure to finish fast."

He followed a staff mber down the hallway, sensing the gaze of others filled with adoration and favouritism. His arrival had made the witch director turn to an angel.

His phone buzzed several tis in his pocket, likely those idiots who had tagged along, insisting they’d support him today. Of course, he had ditched those fools in the parking lot. Micah firmly forced them to agree to stay far away from the shooting area and only watch from a safe distance. If they were here, they would ddle with his work for sure.

He pushed open the makeup room door. Inside, the light was harsh, bouncing on the walls from a row of vanity mirrors. Makeup artists moved around, brushes clicking in cups, powders puffing in the air as soone set another actress’ cheekbones.

Then Micah spotted a familiar figure sitting in one of the makeup chairs. "Ilyas," he called, hurrying over as if greeting an old friend at a reunion. "Hey! I knew it would be you!" Micah said, patting the young man’s shoulder, smiling widely.

Ilyas’s eyes slid to Micah through the vanity mirror. He remained still while the makeup artist dusted powder along his jawline, but his expression softened with relief.

The boy was as energetic and enthusiastic as ever.

Truthfully, he had no idea his brother had pulled a dirty trick behind the scenes until this morning. Learning it made him uncomfortable, guilty even that his own role had been obtained through questionable thods. But at least the director made sure to bring Micah into this as well. It eases his conscience... a little. He was really disappointed in his older brother. He should take care of Micah in return.

Ilyas nodded slightly in response as the make-up artist was still working on his face.

Before Micah could chat more, a makeup artist waved Micah over. "Sweetheart! Co sit here. We need your skin prepped."

Micah brightened imdiately, greeting her with a cheerful bow. "Beautiful sister, thank you for taking care of ."

The woman burst out laughing, delighted by Micah’s sweet mouth.

The other one chid in. "Flattery won’t save you when we glue things on your face later."

"I don’t mind at all," he replied earnestly. "As long as such a stunning beauty is doing it."

Another one chuckled. "Such an adorable boy! You’ll be famous in the blink of an eye!"

"Ah, older sister, I borrow your auspicious words!" Micah replied as he sat in the chair, adjusting his shoulders as she wrapped a cape around him.

Her fingers worked quickly, pulling his hair gently into clips, misting hydrating spray over his cheeks, brushing prir across his skin with soft strokes.

"Ah. What smooth skin! It makes our work so much easier," she said, pleased. Then she added, steadying his chin with her fingers. "Honey, don’t move."

Micah held still obediently, though his eyes sparkled as she dabbed pale tallic pignt across his cheekbones. With a precise stroke, she worked on giving him a slightly ethereal, almost otherworldly glow, sharpening his natural beauty into sothing uncanny and cold.

From the other chair, Ilyas watched him through the mirror, this boy who seed born to shine under spotlights. Thank God he had not blocked his path; otherwise, the guilt would have crushed him.

*****

anwhile, outside in the parking area, Darcy leaned against Clyde’s car, tapping the lid of his coffee with one finger. Steam curled upward as his eyes drifted to the studio building. "Hey," he muttered, "what’s the point of us staying here when we’re not allowed inside?"

Clyde barely shifted his gaze from his laptop perched on his thigh. His fingers tapped steadily as he answered from the backseat. "I contacted my assistant. They’re sending a top manager here. She’ll take care of the internal matters."

Darcy frowned. "But still I’m worried." He kicked a tiny pebble. "I rember this ad... it blew back then out of proportion because of the concept. Then that happened. Resulting in Ramsy’s share dropping. Even at that ti, I thought it sounded suspicious."

It was way before Darcy joined Ramsy’s family and company, so he did not experience it first-hand. Just heard rumours.

That incident had tarnished Willow’s reputation among the employees and shareholders. And made the chance of her succeeding drop significantly.

As a result, all the employees ostracised Willow in the company. And instead, they were fond of Micah, the foolish young master. That baffled Darcy. Even after he stepped into the company, the staff kept praising Micah in front of him nonstop.

Clyde finally paused typing, expression darkening slightly. He looked at the data on the screen, his mind drifting to the past. Of course, he had no idea who had been behind this incident because back then, his mories were sealed. And if it hadn’t been, he wouldn’t be interested, as Micah had not been involved directly.

So when Micah had told him about the audition, Clyde had not thought deeply of it. Not until breakfast, when Dylon had asked about the concept that he rembered.

There was a huge backlash after the ad aired. So lunatic had thought the actor was a real humanoid. So he had kidnapped that poor man and...

Clyde closed his eyes for a mont. Even he found it grueso. The news spread like wildfire. Public outrage turned toward Ramsy Empire. Shareholders panicked. Executives rushed to clean up the ss. The project was suspended indefinitely.

The hair on his arms stood up, imagining sothing like that might happen to Micah.

The danger was not just that. The problem was after that. Nearly ten years later, that suspended project had appeared in the Lobart company and had beco famous. At that ti, the Ramsy family had weakened, and an employee had stolen the data. Clyde had suspected that so underhanded thod had been used in this ad incident.

Clyde wanted to stop Micah from appearing in this ad, but he had no proof or reasonable excuse to persuade the young man.

He opened his eyes again, gaze focused and cold.

Still, he couldn’t pull Micah out... He would control everything else. Control every outside factor, security detail, or risk. He rubbed the wooden prayer beads on his wrist as he cald his turbulent emotions.

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