A RISKY SHADE

Tyler Hartley’s life was proof that ambition and a little bit of chaos could lead to greatness. At 29, he was the CEO of Stardust, a beauty brand that had become the industry’s rising star. In just a year and a half, Stardust had gone from a fledgling startup to a household name. Its products—known for their innovative formulas and stunning packaging—were on every influencer’s “must-have” list, with stores struggling to keep them in stock.

The brand’s meteoric rise wasn’t luck. It was Tyler’s relentless work ethic. He had built Stardust from the ground up, pouring every ounce of himself into its success. And it had worked. He was rich, respected, and regularly featured in glossy profiles with headlines like “The Glow King Who Took the Beauty World by Storm.”

Tyler’s appearance was just as striking as his achievements. His pale complexion had an ethereal quality to it—so pale, in fact, that people often joked he looked like he’d been sculpted out of moonlight. The subtle smattering of freckles across his nose and cheeks only added to his charm, giving him an effortless boyishness that made him seem more approachable than most CEOs. His brown hair was thick and always perfectly styled, the kind of effortless look that took time and care. And then there was his smile—a killer, heart-stopping grin that could make even the most skeptical business partner melt.

Before Stardust, Tyler had been a model, and it showed. He carried himself with a grace that turned heads, whether he was in a tailored suit or something casual. Today, he wore an outfit that would have made any runway jealous: a slim-fitting black turtleneck paired with gray slacks that hugged his frame just right, polished leather boots, and a vintage watch that added a touch of understated luxury. He looked every inch the modern-day glow king.

But not every corner of Stardust glittered.

Earlier that morning, Patricia—Tyler’s sharp-tongued, no-nonsense secretary—had burst into his office, fuming.

“Tyler, you need to talk to Harringson,” she said, her voice clipped.

Tyler raised an eyebrow, glancing up from his laptop. “What’s he done now?”

Patricia hesitated for a moment before speaking. “We were discussing the new foundation line, and I mentioned expanding the shade range. He said—” She took a breath, visibly restraining herself. “He said, and I quote, ‘Dark-skinned people don’t need makeup. It’s not like anyone notices.’”

Tyler’s expression darkened instantly. “He said what?”

“That’s not even the worst of it,” Patricia continued, her voice shaking slightly. “When I called him out, he got defensive. Said I was being ‘too emotional.’ Then he got loud. Really loud. It’s unprofessional, Tyler, and—”

Before she could finish, Tyler was already on his feet, striding toward the lab where Harringson, their lead cosmetic chemist, worked.

The scene he walked into was chaos. Harringson, red-faced and ranting, was waving his hands in frustration while several lab techs stared at the floor, clearly uncomfortable. Patricia stood near the doorway, her arms crossed and her glare sharp enough to cut glass.

“Harringson,” Tyler said, his voice cold enough to freeze the room.

The chemist turned, his face still flushed. “Ah, Tyler—good, I was just—”

Tyler held up a hand, silencing him. “Let me stop you right there. I’ve heard enough.”

“But—”

“No,” Tyler interrupted, his tone now razor-sharp. “Let me be crystal clear. There is no room for that kind of thinking at Stardust. We’re an inclusive brand. If you can’t get behind that, you don’t belong here.”

“Tyler, I was just—” Harringson tried again, but Tyler cut him off with a smirk so cutting it could have been patented as a weapon.

“Save it. You’re fired.”

The room went silent.

“You’ll be reminded of your confidentiality agreement before you leave, and Patricia will ensure you’re given a severance package. Generous enough to help you find a new job—but not enough to make you forget this lesson. And trust me,” Tyler added, his voice like steel, “you’re going to remember it.”

Harringson opened his mouth to protest, but Tyler had already turned away, addressing Patricia instead.

“Pat, make sure this gets handled today.” Then, with a sly grin, he added, “And next time, just call me directly. I don’t need to hear his garbage secondhand.”

Patricia’s lips twitched into a small smile. “Noted, boss.”

Back in his office, Tyler sank into his chair, the adrenaline from the confrontation still buzzing in his veins. His phone sat on the desk, notifications piling up from missed calls and emails. For a moment, he let himself sit in the silence, his mind replaying the scene in the lab. He thought about Harringson’s words, the way they had made Patricia—one of his most trusted team members—feel.

This wasn’t just a single incident. It was a reminder of the kind of industry he was in, the biases still lurking under its glamorous surface. Tyler had fought too hard to build Stardust into a brand that stood for everyone to let anyone—even a lead chemist—undermine that.

Patricia’s voice interrupted his thoughts as she walked into his office. “You know,” she said, her tone softer than usual, “you’re a good boss, Tyler.”

He glanced up at her, caught off guard by the compliment. “Pat, are you feeling okay? That almost sounded like a compliment.”

Patricia smirked. “Don’t get used to it. But seriously, thanks for having my back. Not every CEO would handle it the way you did.”

“Come on, Pat. You think I’d let some dinosaur in a lab coat talk to you—or anyone on the team—like that?” Tyler leaned back in his chair. “No way.”

She gave him a rare smile, then glanced at her clipboard. “By the way, you’re free for the rest of the day. No models are coming in for testing, and we’ve cleared your schedule.”

“Wait, really?” Tyler asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Really,” Patricia confirmed. “So, unless you’ve suddenly developed a new addiction to pointless meetings, you can actually take the afternoon off.”

Tyler grinned. “Tempting, but I think I’ll use the time to prep. Can you get the lab ready for me tomorrow? I’ll finish the rest of the new formula myself.”

“You’ve got it,” Patricia said. “Anything else, boss?”

“Nope, just remind the lab techs that Stardust isn’t a democracy tomorrow—it’s a dictatorship, and I’m the glow king,” he said with a wink.

Patricia rolled her eyes. “Oh, trust me, they already know.”

Still, for all his success, Tyler often felt like the only thing glowing in his life was his screen during late-night work marathons. His friends, however, were the one part of his life that kept him grounded. Neha, Luca, and James had been his ride-or-die crew since high school—people who knew him long before Stardust or the endless swirl of business meetings.

When his phone buzzed with a notification from their group chat—lovingly titled The Broken Rubber Club—Tyler couldn’t help but grin. The name had been Neha’s idea, born from a particularly chaotic night of drunken banter, and it had stuck ever since.

Tyler: Bar at 8?

Neha: Bar at 8?! Our fearless leader doesn’t have to work late saving the beauty world again?

Tyler smirked, typing back quickly.

Tyler: I can actually make it this time. Try not to faint from shock at seeing me in person.

Neha: Oh, I’m sorry, WHOSE company keeps sending me on business trips? Hint: It’s the same guy who named his serum “Stardust Galaxy Glow.”

Tyler: A genius, clearly.

Neha’s response was an eye-roll emoji, followed by: I’m out this weekend—blame my boss for sending me to Singapore. Have fun without me, though.

Luca: We might have to take a rain check, too. James’s dad is in the hospital. Nothing too serious, but we’re spending the evening with him.

Tyler’s teasing mood immediately shifted.

Tyler: Why am I hearing about this now? Anything I can do? Want me to swing by this week to visit him?

James: Thanks, Ty. That’d mean a lot to him.

Luca: He keeps asking about you anyway. You’ve basically become his third favorite child.

Tyler: Tell him I’ll bring snacks. Third favorite doesn’t get me out of bringing snacks.

The banter carried on for a few minutes, light and playful, before the chat quieted down. Tyler set his phone on the counter, leaning back in his chair with a sigh.

He couldn’t fault his friends for having real responsibilities. Neha was in Singapore on a business trip—handling Stardust’s marketing campaigns like the rockstar she was—and Luca and James were taking care of James’s dad. It wasn’t like they were ditching him; life just happened.

Still, it left Tyler with an evening to himself, and the thought of staying in his penthouse all night made him itch. The apartment, though stunning with its sleek design and panoramic city views, always felt too quiet. Too lonely.

“Nope,” he muttered to himself, grabbing his jacket and keys. He wasn’t going to sit around sulking. The night was young, and if his friends couldn’t join him, he’d find his own fun. Lord knows when he’d have a free evening again.

WRITERS NOTE: Tysm for reading thiss!! XD...Stay with me pleasee!! First Chapters are the worst to write (T-T).