SuperStar

Lisa Monroe, an African American woman living in Los Angeles, had faced her share of struggles in life but always found a way to persevere. Growing up in Provincetown, Massachusetts—a quaint, picturesque town—she had dreamed of becoming an actress. Like countless others with stars in their eyes, she made her way to LA, hoping for her big break. However, the harsh reality of the industry had other plans.

Though she didn't achieve stardom, Lisa considered herself lucky. Unlike many who hit rock bottom, she had managed to find stability. Thanks to her first roommate, she landed a well-paying assistant position with one of the top agents in the business. The opportunity came after the previous assistant abruptly quit and filed a case against him.

At first, Lisa was apprehensive about working for her new boss, Bill Miller. His reputation preceded him, and she wasn't sure what to expect. But the generous paycheck was too good to pass up. To her surprise, Bill turned out to be far more considerate and kind than his gruff appearance suggested. When she learned why the previous assistant quit, she couldn't help but laugh.

Apparently, Bill had seen the assistant bringing out a whole roast chicken for lunch and joked, "Did you bring lunch for the entire team?" The poor woman misinterpreted it as a dig at her weight and quit on the spot. Lisa found it ironic, given Bill's own stocky frame, but it was a lesson she would carry: Bill's bark was far worse than his bite.

Now, years later, Lisa was navigating the chaos of her demanding job, even during the pandemic. She had been working from her boyfriend John's apartment since the lockdown began. John, a bodyguard for a popular nightclub, was struggling with the sudden halt in business.

"Ahhh," Lisa groaned, setting her phone down after another early morning call with Bill. He'd woken her up to discuss a new client he was eager to sign: Ethan Jones. "Who the hell is Ethan Jones, and why is the man jittery enough to offer him our best contract?" she muttered to herself.

She shook her head, stretching as she stood from the bed. Despite the exhaustion, she knew she had to get to work. After all, this was the entertainment business, and it never truly stopped.

Lisa thought back to the chaos she'd dealt with earlier in the pandemic. One B-list actor under Bill's management had attended a party during lockdown, leading to a PR nightmare when the story broke. Coordinating damage control between Bill and the PR team had been a Herculean task. Still, the paycheck was worth it, and as she glanced at John, sleeping soundly beside her, she reminded herself to be grateful.

"Ethan Jones, huh?" she mused, settling at her desk and opening her MacBook. She typed his name into the search bar. Among the results was a YouTube link, which she clicked.

As the video loaded, Lisa's eyes landed on the view count: 36 million. Her jaw dropped. She barely had time to process the number before the music started. The young man on-screen—blond-haired and likely in his early twenties—sang with a voice that was both raw and captivating.

"Wow," Lisa whispered as the song played. She could already tell why Bill was so excited. This wasn't just good—it was remarkable. "This kid's going to be huge," she muttered to herself.

"What's that, babe?" John's deep, groggy voice came from the bed.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you," Lisa said, turning toward him with an apologetic smile.

John grumbled something inaudible before rolling over and going back to sleep. Lisa chuckled softly and turned back to her laptop. "Time to get to work," she said, opening her email to prepare for the whirlwind that was sure to follow.

Across town in Bel Air, Bill Miller sat at the breakfast table in his luxurious mansion, enjoying his meal with his wife, Stephanie, and teenage son, Paul. The sprawling home was a testament to Bill's success, with its grand marble floors, high ceilings, and large windows offering panoramic views of the city.

"So, Dad," Paul began between bites of his omelet, "I heard you convinced Ethan to sign."

"Yes, son," Bill replied, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "But remember, nothing's final until it's in ink. We'll celebrate when it's official."

Paul nodded, seemingly content with the answer, but before he could ask another question, Bill's phone pinged. He glanced at the screen and saw the subject line he'd been waiting for: Ethan Jones Contract Signing.

Bill's heart raced with excitement. Setting his napkin aside, he stood abruptly, startling both Stephanie and Paul. "I've got some important work to handle," he said, excusing himself.

Stephanie watched him leave, her expression equal parts amusement and exasperation. Turning to Paul, who was now engrossed in his plate again, she sighed. "How's Victoria doing, dear?"

Paul looked up briefly, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. "She's fine, I guess," he said with a shrug before returning to his food.

Meanwhile, in a modest home in Los Angeles, Ethan Jones sat at his desk, staring at his computer screen. His phone buzzed incessantly beside him, notifications lighting up the screen like fireworks. He hadn't touched his phone in hours, overwhelmed by the sheer volume of messages.

With a deep breath, he finally picked it up. Scrolling through, he saw countless comments, likes, and direct messages. His Instagram requests alone were in the hundreds of thousands. It was a surreal experience for someone who had only ever dreamed of recognition.

Ethan decided to check YouTube, searching for his song, Shape of You. When the video appeared, he froze.

"Thirty-six million views," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "And twenty-two million likes…"

He leaned back in his chair, his mind spinning. The numbers were incomprehensible. How had this happened? Just days ago, he'd been an aspiring artist uploading his original song with no expectations beyond sharing his passion.

Now, it seemed like the entire world was watching.

Ethan opened Twitter and saw his follower count: 500,000 and climbing. He swallowed hard, the reality of his newfound fame sinking in. Moving to Instagram, he discovered over a million requests to follow his private account still not sure what to do with that.

"This is insane," he muttered, running a hand through his blond hair.

The excitement was tempered by a nagging voice in the back of his mind. He'd seen comments speculating that he was a one-hit wonder or that his success was a fluke. Could he prove them wrong? Did he even want to step further into the spotlight?

"Maybe I should release another song," he thought aloud, considering the possibility.

Just as he began to lose himself in the whirlwind of thoughts, his phone buzzed again. This time, it was a call. Glancing at the screen, he saw the name: Bill Miller.

Ethan hesitated for a moment before answering. "Hello?"