Monetary Love

Alain sat in the waiting area, anxiously anticipating his turn. Ever since he was a kid, he had dreamed of becoming a celebrity. Now, fresh out of college, he had signed up to join Blitz, a premier agency for young, promising talent. He chose the modeling division for now—it was the epicenter of fashion, beauty, and style, which suited him to a T. Young, fresh, and strikingly handsome, he fit right in.

He pulled out his phone to snap a selfie, but sudden chattering in the room quickly died down as a man walked in, flanked by a few security guards. The man was tall and athletic, carrying a lean, muscular build that clearly came from hitting the gym. His face was exceptionally handsome and faintly familiar, falling right into Alain's exact type. This male god radiated an aura of raw power, and the entire room immediately grew tense with caution.

The longer Alain stared at the man's shiny brown hair and soft pink lips, the more he felt inexplicably drawn to him. Alain was nothing if not straightforward; if he wanted something, he went after it. Even if it was just a one-time thing, looking at this stranger made him want to take a chance. He crossed his legs, leaned forward, and flashed a seductive smile.

"Big boss, you look very attractive. Can I get your number?"

The people around them gasped, staring in shock. Who on earth dared to be this shameless and bold?

The man was Cassandro Melrose, a billionaire from the prominent Melrose family who owned a vast empire spanning brands and technology. Rumor had it he was now expanding deeper into the celebrity entertainment business.

Cassandro was well-used to people approaching him in all sorts of ways, many of whom were deliberately sent his way. But something about this young man's casual, brazen pickup line felt genuinely amusing. Glancing down, Cassandro took the phone offered to him and typed in his number.

Alain was genuinely surprised—he hadn't expected the man to actually give it to him. Pleased, he smiled brightly. "Hehe, thanks! I'll be calling tonight."

Cassandro gave a single nod and continued walking down the hall. Alain casually saved the new contact under the name: The random handsome guy.

Once Cassandro left, the lingering stares returned to Alain as he waited for his name to be called. Finally, after what felt like hours, it was his turn. He walked into the audition room with absolute confidence; Alain knew that a model couldn't afford to be cowardly. He faced the three judges and smiled.

The judges observed him closely, taking in every detail: his dark navy-blue dyed hair that fell straight against his neck, his dark yet bright blue eyes fringed with long, fluttering eyelashes, and his plump, cherry-pink lips. His facial features struck a delicate balance—soft and cute, yet tinged with a natural sexiness. His skin had a soft, milky complexion that would be a dream for high-end advertisements.

Not to mention, his frame was tailor-made for the trending androgynous fashion style. Visually, he was precisely what they were looking for. Now, they needed to see his performance.

Alain took a deep breath. Swallowing his nerves, he squared his shoulders, straightened his back, and began to walk. It wasn't an aggressive stride, but a calm, composed pace with his chin held high and a straight face.

The judges exchanged approving nods. He wasn't a finished product yet and clearly needed more practice, but his raw potential was undeniable.

"Alain Fredriks, 22 years old, recently graduated from XXL University," one judge began, skimming his file. "Hmm. What is your reasoning for joining this company?"

'For money and fame, of course. What else do people join for?' Is what he'd like to say of course.

Alain offered a polite smile. Then, softening his expression, he added, "Ever since I was a child, I've always wanted to be a model. I was deeply inspired by the models at Blitz, and I wanted to be just like them. Naturally, I wanted to join my dream company."

He smiled softly, gently touching his chest before opening his eyes with a look of fierce determination. The judges nodded, looking comfortable with his answer.

The lead judge laced his fingers together. "Well, Mr. Fredriks, that is all for today. We will call you within a week with our decision."

Alain smiled warmly, giving them a friendly wave as he walked out. As soon as he stepped away, his phone buzzed with a flood of missed calls and voice messages from his mother. He quickly dialed her back.

"Hello, Elena. I'm very much alive."

"You will be very much unalive the second you reach home, Alain! I specifically warned you—"

"—that the celebrity lifestyle is not as easy as you think," Alain chimed in, reciting her exact words.

"Funny this is coming from a former queen actress herself," she snapped back.

"It was not an easy life! I had to make bad decisions," she defended.

Alain sighed. "I know, I know. You had to pay a heavy price for a little bit of fame."

Sensing she wasn't getting through to him, she let out a tired sigh of her own. "When you get home, we are going to have a serious discussion."

Alain smiled, unfazed. "Yes, of course, Mother dearest."