SuperStar!

"Hey, morning. Sorry, I'm late." A tired voice announced as the door swung open, followed by the sound of hurried footsteps.

"Hi! How are you?" came a much more cheerful response, filled with energy that sharply contrasted the newcomer's exhaustion.

"God, the traffic was just awful today. I spent close to an hour just trying to get here!" The tired one groaned, dragging a chair back and plopping into it. Her voice, though fatigued at first, quickly picked up an irritated edge as frustration bubbled to the surface.

"Tell me about it. I'm just lucky I left early. I can't even imagine what the director must have said to you." The cheerful one replied, though there was a slight nervousness in her tone.

"Girl, don't even remind me," the first voice huffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "I was chewed alive. Like, full-on shredded. And all because of men and their stupid sports!" She threw her hands up in exasperation, shaking her head as if the mere thought was physically exhausting.

"Well… it is the country's sport. What did you expect?" The second girl said with an amused chuckle.

"I get that, I really do," the first girl shot back, waving a dismissive hand, "but I didn't think it would be this bad. Everywhere is just packed. The whole city's been thrown into chaos over one stupid game! And the worst part? My man had the nerve to get himself tickets. This man, who somehow couldn't find the money to contribute to my trip, magically had thousands to waste on the game." Her voice practically dripped with disbelief and irritation, her face twisted into an unimpressed scowl.

"Wow, he really did that?" The second girl's voice rose in shock before she let out a small laugh, trying to smooth things over. "Well, at least you get to go watch the game with him."

"Oooh, please," the first girl scoffed, crossing her arms with a smug smirk. "I'm not going. I already resold the tickets he gave me. He's going to fund my trip one way or another." Her tone was dripping with satisfaction, clearly pleased with her own cleverness.

"Oh my God. You really did?" The second girl's eyes widened, her mouth dropping slightly as she stared at her friend in disbelief.

"Of course, I did! Do I look like I'm playing? That trip is happening. No doubt about it. I need me some sun, some sand, maybe a cute local surfer boy to give me a rub or two." The first girl's voice turned dreamy as she leaned back, already lost in the fantasy.

"Girl, you are so bad," the second girl said with a laugh, shaking her head.

"Tell me about it," the first girl replied, completely unbothered, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

"Hahaha!" The second girl burst out laughing.

"Hahahaha!" The first one quickly joined in, both of them shaking with amusement at their own antics.

After a few moments, the laughter died down, and the first girl leaned in slightly, lowering her voice to a whisper. "So… is he here?"

"Yeah, he's getting his makeup done right now," the second girl whispered back excitedly. "And girl, let me tell you… he is fiiiine. Like, sculpted level fine. Those pictures don't do him justice."

The first girl arched an eyebrow, amused by her friend's enthusiasm. "Girl, calm down. You need to chill. I thought he wasn't even really your type?"

"I mean… yeah, normally, I like my men tall, dark, and mixed with a little bit of ugly," the second girl admitted, waving a hand. "But girl, he is everyone's type. He just looks so handsome and cute at the same time." Her voice drifted off as if she had entered another world entirely. (I just had to—the song killed me 😂😂😂)

"Ooooh, then I have to see him," the first girl said, her excitement growing. "Why are you even waiting here? Let's go!"

"Ugh, wasn't it Jasmine that sent me out?" The second girl rolled her eyes, arms crossing. "She said she needed to 'concentrate' or whatever. That hoe."

The first girl let out a knowing laugh. "She probably just wants to be alone with him."

"Like, do you get? And she ain't even hiding it." The second girl's annoyance was obvious, her lips pressing into a thin line.

"Honestly, I can't even blame her," the first girl admitted with a shrug. "He's rich, successful, young, and, like you said, fine. Can't blame her for trying. Let's just make sure we can get him our numbers before he leaves here."

"Girl, I'm way ahead of you," the second girl said, grinning mischievously. "Why do you think I'm waiting here? He has to pass by before he leaves, and trust me, I am so ready for him." She reached down and subtly tugged her shirt down just a little bit, adjusting herself with a smirk.

The first girl burst into laughter. "You are too much!"

"What? Gotta shoot my shot," the second girl giggled, her eyes twinkling with anticipation.

And with that, they waited.

Inside that same building, in a different space, Ethan sat in a chair while a lady hovered over him. He had a strong feeling she was trying to seduce him—her chest constantly brushing against him, her movements unnecessarily close. This wasn't his first time getting makeup done, but it was definitely the longest.

Normally, makeup artists would tell him he didn't need much, just a few light touches here and there. But this time, he had been sitting in the chair for more than ten minutes.

He shifted slightly and cleared his throat. As she leaned in once again, her chest grazing his arm, he asked, "Ehm, aren't you done yet? The shoot should be underway already. I feel like I should get going." He let out a small, nervous laugh.

"I'm almost done. Just give me a few minutes," came the high-pitched voice he had been hearing since the session started. Ethan just nodded, resigning himself to the situation.

"So, Ethan," she continued, applying another unnecessary stroke of powder, "like I was saying, I watched your concert last night. It was so hot—the way you stood in front of Taylor—I could just feel it as if you were right in front of me." She leaned in even closer. "It got me feeling… somehow. You know what I mean?"

Ethan let out another nervous chuckle. "Yeah… Thanks for watching. I'm happy you're a fan."

"Ooo, not just a fan." She took a step back, and Ethan, still facing the mirror, saw her through the reflection. She placed a finger on her lips, her voice dropping into a sultry tone. "I'm a super fan," she said, dragging the words out slowly.

Ethan swallowed—a gulp he hadn't even realized was forming.

Then, like a saving grace, the door swung open. A voice interrupted, "Jasmin, the director's assistant is here. They need him on set now." Ethan immediately recognized the voice as the girl who had been asked to leave earlier.

Jasmin, the makeup artist, responded without taking her eyes off Ethan. "Okay, he'll be there soon. I'm done already."

"Since you're done, I'll just go now," Ethan said quickly, removing the bib around his neck. Before the session, he had already changed into the outfit for the shoot—a plain white t-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers.

He moved to leave, but the busty Latina woman stepped in his way. She didn't say anything at first, just stood there with a smirk.

Ethan hesitated before speaking. "Ehm… can I pass, please?"

She smiled teasingly. "Of course," she said with a soft laugh. Then, reaching into her very ample chest, she pulled out a card and held it out to him. "That's my card, in case you ever need a makeup crew anywhere in the state."

Ethan took the card, forcing a polite smile.

Her voice dropped to a lower, more suggestive tone. "And don't worry, I also do home visits." Her eyes shamelessly raked over him from head to toe.

Ethan just gave another polite smile as she finally stepped aside, allowing him to leave. He stepped into the outer room and was immediately met with two other busty women—one black, the other white. They both looked even more suggestive than the one inside.

Recognizing the white girl as the one who had been in the room earlier, Ethan gave a small wave. "Hello."

Both women smiled back at him.

Moments later, Ethan found himself standing in front of the camera crew, the set bustling with movement. The room was intentionally made to look scattered and broken—props positioned strategically to fit the video's concept.

He turned toward the main camera, where Emil sat monitoring everything. Emil's voice rang out, "Okay, Ethan, right now, we're about to shoot the first scene. We just need you to lip-sync the lyrics, show some passion, and maybe throw in a little dance. Got it? Are you ready?"

Ethan Jones, shaking off all previous distractions, grinned and shouted, "Let's do this."

At that moment, three different cards sat in his pocket, but his focus was locked on the camera.