A Few Days Later…
Alena sat in her room, the soft glow of the screen reflecting in her eyes as the e-sports game Valorant ran smoothly. It was her favorite game now. Whenever she had free time, she played it with her brother.
At first, she had only followed his lead.
But somewhere along the way, she caught up.
The match ended in victory.
Her brother frowned at the screen. "When did you reach my level?"
Alena smirked.
"Relax. I'm still being nice." Her brother looked at her, half serious, half embarrassed.
"Sis… teach me too," he said. "I want to reach king level as well." She glanced at her brother and sighed.
"Fine, I'll teach you," Alena said. "But on my terms."
"Help Mom in the kitchen. Wash the dishes. No drama.
Clean your room and mine. Properly.
And don't forget—run errands when I ask."
Her brother protested, "Why should I clean your room?"
Alena smirked, fingers still on the controller.
"Then remind me," she said lazily,
"why I should turn you into a king-level player?"He fell silent.
Inside, he was crying rivers. Outside, he sighed like a broken hero.
"Fine. I'll do it," he muttered.
Shaking his head, he whispered, full of tragedy,
"To become king level… a man must suffer."
Elena was training her brother inside the game, calmly correcting his moves.
"Not like that," she said. "Timing matters. Think before you attack."
Her phone rang.
Alex.
She paused the match and answered.
"Hello, Alex."
"Elena, are you free? Come to the company. I'll introduce you to your new agent and officially hand over your work."
"Yes, sure."
She ended the call and looked at her brother.
"See? I kept my promise. Training started," she said lightly.
"We'll continue later." Then she leaned closer, her voice calm but dangerous.
"And listen carefully—help Mom. Do your duties properly."
She raised a finger.
"If you don't," she added casually,
"I'll take your phone for a whole week."
Her brother froze.
Elena smiled once, satisfied, and walked toward the bathroom—
leaving him staring at his phone like it was already gone. Freshened up, Elena chose a hot and short dress and stepped out.
Her grandmother was in the kitchen.
"Elena dear, where are you going?"
"To the company."
"Eat something first."
"I'll eat outside," she replied, already leaving.
.....
Starlight Entertainment Company
Knock.
"Come in.
Elena knocked once and pushed the door open.
Inside, Alex sat on the main chair behind his desk. Across from him was a woman in a sharp business suit—mid-forties, posture straight, eyes keen and observant. The kind of presence that silently measured everything.
Elena's gaze paused on her.
So… this must be my new agent, she thought.
The woman looked up at the same time.
Emma Collins.
Her eyes swept over Elena in a single, professional glance.
When Emma Collins was informed that she was being assigned another artist, her first reaction was irritation.
She already handled the company's top-tier star—the kind every brand chased, every director wanted. Managing that alone was exhausting enough.
Another artist? Seriously? she had thought.
But then came the reason.
The CEO himself had given the order.
Emma didn't argue. She never did when it came directly from the top.
Instead, she adjusted her schedule and decided on one thing—
I'll meet the artist first. Everything else can wait.
Now, sitting in Alex's cabin, Emma finally saw her.
Elena.
Emma studied her quietly.
Beautiful, Emma thought instantly.
Very beautiful.
But it wasn't just the face. The calm stance, the way Elena held herself, the quiet confidence—it all added up.
This girl looks capable, Emma continued inwardly.
With proper effort, turning her into an A-plus actress won't take long.
She glanced at Alex briefly, then nodded once.
"Fine," she said simply, accepting it.
Emma stood up and walked toward Elena.
"My name is Emma Collins," she said calmly.
"Elena Carter, "Elena said calmly.
Emma gave a short nod.
"I'm your new agent. I'll handle everything related to your work and inform you on time."
She continued, voice professional, almost blunt.
"If any scene or film doesn't feel right to you, you can refuse. You're not forced to accept everything."
Then she added honestly,
"Right now, your body isn't ready for big projects. So no major films yet. But small films and regular shoots won't be a problem."
Emma paused for a second, then looked straight at Elena.
"I need only two things from my artists," she said.
"First—complete loyalty. If there's any issue, scandal, or personal matter, I need to know first."
"And second—take your work seriously. Because I take mine very seriously."
Elena listened carefully and nodded.
She's strict, Elena thought.
But disciplined. The kind of woman who doesn't waste time.
"I understand," Elena said calmly. Emma adjusted her files and looked at Elena.
"Wait in my cabin. We'll discuss the remaining details and your roles there."
Elena nodded.
"Okay."
She gave a polite nod to both of them and walked out of Alex's cabin.
Alex leaned back in his chair and glanced at Emma.
"So," he asked casually,
"how's the artist? Any issues taking her under your wing now?"
Emma smiled—small, confident.
"Hmm," she said lightly.
"She's fine."
That one word was more than enough.
Alex chuckled, relieved.
"Good."
They moved on to company matters—projects, schedules, upcoming deals.
Meanwhile, Elena walked down the corridor toward Emma Collins' cabin.
Artists and employees passed by—some whispered, some glanced at her, but no one said a word.
Everyone already knew.
Elena was under Emma Collins.
The same Emma Collins who managed the company's top artist—
Lucas Reed.
In Starlight Entertainment, that name carried weight.
And so did hers.
Elena walked calmly, expression unchanged,
already aware that from this moment on, things around her had started to shift.
Elena pushed open Emma's cabin door and froze.
A man was already sitting on the sofa.
He had a soft, chocolate-boy face—handsome, clean, almost gentle—but his eyes carried quiet pride. The kind that comes from being admired too long. His posture was relaxed, confident, as if the room naturally belonged to him.
Lucas Reed.
The name surfaced in Elena's mind like an old echo—
the original owner's blind admiration, the face she'd worshipped on screens.
Lucas's gaze slid over her, slow and unapologetic.
Pretty. Polished.
And obviously a fan—according to him.
Before Elena could even part her lips, he spoke, voice lazy, edged with superiority.
"Easy there," he drawled, leaning deeper into the sofa. "Walking straight into my agent's cabin without knocking? That's a bit too eager, don't you think?"
A faint smirk curved his lips, the kind reserved for people he already believed he owned.
"I know, I know. Seeing me in person can mess with self-control," he continued, amused. "But rules still apply. Fans wait outside."
He stretched his hand toward her, fingers relaxed, arrogance effortless.
"So?" he said. "Notebook, phone—anything. I'll give you an autograph, make your day, and then you can quietly leave. Try not to repeat this next time, yeah?"
The tone was smooth.
The smile charming.
And the arrogance—so natural, it was almost offensive. Elena smiled.
Not sweet.
Not shy.
Dangerously sarcastic.
"Relax," she said lazily. "That's not charisma—it's a condition. Get it diagnosed while you still can. Early treatment might save you."
She moved past him without another glance and sat on the opposite sofa, crossing her legs like the room belonged to her.
Lucas froze.
"…What?" His pride kicked in a second later. "Hey. I get it. You're playing hard to get. Pretending you don't know me, pretending you're not my fan."
He laughed, clearly impressed with his own logic.
"Cute trick, girl. Works on others. Not on me."
A long sigh. Fake patience.
"But fine," he said generously. "Since you're trying this hard for my attention, I'll allow it."
He gestured toward himself. "One photo. No more. Don't push your luck."
Then, lowering his voice, smug and confident:
"Hurry up. If my agent walks in, you'll be escorted out immediately."
He kept talking—rules, favors, warnings—
completely missing one thing.
In Elena's eyes, he wasn't an A-list celebrity.
He was just a man deeply in love with his own reflection.
Elena stood up.
The hand Lucas waved at her—urging her to hurry—
she caught it mid-air and twisted it hard.
A sharp smile curved her lips.
"My head is aching," she said calmly. "And it's because of your mouth. If you don't shut up right now… I'll shut it for you."
Lucas hissed in pain—but even then, his ego refused to die.
"Tch—violent roleplay won't impress me," he groaned. "How can a fan hurt her idol like this? Let go—"
He tried to pull back.
The pain only got worse.
And Elena's patience snapped.
She lifted him and slammed him to the floor.
A punch to the face.
Another to the stomach.
"Quiet," she warned coldly. "Or I'll make sure you're quiet forever."
Lucas, bruised and breathless, stared at her—
…and smiled.
Beautiful, he thought. So beautiful when she's ruthless.
In his twisted mind, admiration bloomed.
"Darling," he coughed. "You've completely captured me. I want you as my girlfriend."
He grinned through the pain.
"My little fire."
Elena hit him again.
Harder.
Lucas didn't resist.
He looked happy.
Just then, the cabin door flew open.
Emma froze.
Lucas lay on the floor—face red, swollen, a complete mess.
"What happened here?" Emma demanded.
Before Elena could answer—
Lucas spoke cheerfully,
"Nothing. Just my little fire shhowing love to her future husband."
Silence.
Elena turned slowly.
"If you don't shut up right now," she said flatly,
"I'll take the few breaths you have left too."
Emma stood there, utterly confused.
"…Someone," she said carefully,
"start explaining. Now." Lucas finished talking.
Emma stayed silent for a beat—dangerously silent.
Then she looked at him. Cold. Precise.
"Lucas," she said, "not every woman exists to admire you."
She turned slightly.
"And no, she didn't come here for your autograph. She's my new artist—Elina Carter."
Lucas froze.
New artist?
Not a fan?
Interesting.
Lucas leaned back, utterly satisfied with himself.
"Then I'll keep calling you Little Fire," he said smoothly. "Because you are my Little Fire. If anyone bullies you, bothers you—tell me. Call me, and I'll come running."
He glanced at Emma, dead serious.
"In every movie of mine, the actress should be Little Fire. I don't like staying far from her."
Emma pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Lucas. Behave."
Ignoring him, she moved closer to Elena and sat beside her, tone finally professional.
"Elena, you won't get a female lead yet. You don't have current popularity," she said calmly. "But there are roles—female lead's sister, third female lead, supporting characters. Less screen time, but if you perform well, popularity comes fast."
She stood, walked to her desk, picked up a file, and handed it to Elena.
"This is from Director Adrian Blackwood," Emma said. "Very famous. Very selective.
"He need one actress for a short role," the director said. "Brief screen time."
Emma didn't hesitate. Her gaze slid to Elena.
"Short role," she said calmly, "but strong enough to make people ask who she is."
Elena gave a slow, knowing smile.