"Bill, I've found the perfect first deal for Ethan. It absolutely swallows the Coke deal. Come now!"
Those were the words Bill had heard when he was still standing with Ethan, debating internally whether or not to confess about the Coca-Cola deal. He had fumbled it—badly—and he knew Ethan deserved the truth. After all, it was Ethan's name, Ethan's brand. Ethan had every right to know. Bill had made peace with that.
But now, hearing the urgency and excitement in Lisa's voice, hearing her say perfect and swallows, his heart started racing. If what she said was even half as good as it sounded... If he could present Ethan with something even bigger before revealing his earlier mistake, well—wouldn't that soften the blow? Wouldn't it make it all better? Those were the thoughts spinning through Bill's head as the cab pulled up outside his office building in downtown LA.
Ever since the start of the year, life had been nothing short of madness. Before Ethan, Bill had already been a top agent, representing semi-famous to statewide and even some near-national level clients. His roster was packed. So when he made the decision—risky as it was—to leave all of them behind and focus solely on Ethan, he had imagined it would give him more time. More time with his wife. More weekends at home. He had even been excited about it, dreaming of lazy Sundays and backyard barbecues.
But oh, how wrong he had been.
If anything, he was busier now than he had ever been in his entire career. Ethan was not just another rising star—he was something else entirely. His rise to fame wasn't just fast; it was a rocketship, so smooth and rapid it felt almost unreal. Bill had barely caught his breath since Ethan's breakout moment. He had been constantly on the move: traveling from coast to coast, hopping on last-minute flights, sitting in endless meetings with corporate executives, fielding urgent calls from label heads, negotiating with endorsement managers, managing image consultants, discussing future collaborations with luxury brands, vetting PR strategies, reviewing partnership offers, and countless more.
Ethan, bless his heart, didn't even know half of it.
The kid thought it was just about singing and performing—which it was—but behind the scenes, Bill was fighting off a thousand sharks every single day. Everyone wanted a piece of Ethan. The music world, the fashion world, even the tech world was circling, trying to get a slice of the phenomenon that was Ethan Jones.
And it wasn't just about managing opportunities—it was also about protection.
Bill had to be extremely selective about who even got close to Ethan. In Hollywood, there was no shortage of weirdos, fakers, and people with hidden agendas. Bill had made it a full-time job to vet every person who requested a meeting, running background checks, cross-referencing connections, digging up histories, checking for lawsuits, scandals, red flags—anything.
Ethan was pure right now. Untouched by the darker undercurrents of fame. And Bill was going to make damn sure it stayed that way.
Of course, there were some people he couldn't just turn away. Some meetings you had to take—when powerful businessmen, influential politicians, and A-list celebrities with enormous pull came knocking, even Bill had to tread carefully. But thankfully, he had the perfect excuse tucked up his sleeve: Ethan was still on tour. Busy, traveling, unavailable. It allowed him to politely delay, to delegate, to push back just long enough until he could sort out how to reject some and the best time to meet the others.
But Bill knew that once the tour ended, things were only going to get even busier.
As he always said, Ethan was the moment now—and it was his job to keep it that way.
People on the outside often believed the hardest part was getting to the top—clawing your way up the brutal mountain that was the entertainment industry. And while that was tough, Bill, who had been around this world for years, who had seen stars rise and fall like shooting comets, knew the real truth.
Getting to the top was the easy part.
Staying there? Now that was the battle.
Most celebrities, after reaching the peak—after seeing the ceiling—inevitably began the slow, painful slide downward. Sometimes it was by their own design: bad decisions, ego trips, self-sabotage. Other times, it was unavoidable: a bad scandal, a betrayal, a single bad headline, a social media storm, a career-ending mistake. It didn't even have to be anything catastrophic—just the slow erosion of relevance, the slow death of being replaced by the next big thing.
It was almost a law of nature in Hollywood. After reaching the summit, the only direction left to go was down.
And right now, by all measurable projections, Ethan was still on his way up. Technically, he was still climbing higher. Yet, realistically, in the eyes of the industry, Ethan was already sitting among the elite, one of the top names in his field.
The difference, however, was glaring.
Unlike his peers—veterans who knew what it meant to sit on top, who understood the price, the constant warfare, the necessity of hard choices, the sacrifices—they knew fame wasn't just a gift; it was a beast you fed daily to survive. They had survived cheating scandals, lawsuits, cancel campaigns, mental health breakdowns, PR disasters, feuds, blacklisting attempts, tabloid takedowns, betrayal from people they trusted, addictions, exploitation, even outright character assassinations.
They had lived it. They bore the scars. They had earned their instincts through blood and fire.
Ethan had none of that.
In a way, Bill thought of him like a player in a video game who somehow started out maxed at Level 100—every skill unlocked, every power-up enabled—but without having played through any of the brutal early levels, without the survival instincts, without the hardened wisdom that experience taught you. Ethan had the fame, the talent, the fanbase—but not the battle scars. Not yet.
And that was one of the reasons Bill was particularly grateful they had signed the Universal deal.
In the ruthless world of the entertainment industry, Universal wasn't just another label—it was the final boss. The kingmaker. The shield. Having the "final boss" on their side meant instant credibility, immense protection, and enough muscle to scare away most of the small-time predators. Overnight, the vultures, the clout-chasers, the sketchy minor agents, and the shady mid-level managers had all backed off. It had cleared the field beautifully.
But, of course, nothing in Hollywood ever came without a price.
While Universal's presence scared away the low-level and middle-tier threats, it also attracted the heavy hitters—the high-level players, the real sharks, the kingpins and queens of the industry who didn't flinch when staring down a giant.
And Bill knew for a fact that they had already started circling.
Other label executives, rival A-list celebrities, industry magnates—they were all watching Ethan now. Some were curious, genuinely interested in collaborating or supporting. But some… well, some definitely had darker motives. Jealousy. Control. Opportunism.
Bill wasn't naive. He knew there was already a silent war brewing behind the scenes between Universal and certain powerful forces. On the surface, everything still looked calm, business as usual. But he had been around long enough to recognize the signs: the fake smiles, the strategically leaked rumors, the sudden surge of "exclusive scoops" in gossip blogs.
They were waiting.
Waiting for one mistake.
One slip-up.
One tiny crack to appear in Ethan's armor—and when it did, they would pounce without hesitation, ready to tear him apart and feast on the remains.
That was why Bill needed a statement signing. Another major endorsement, another massive brand publicly tying themselves to Ethan's rising star, another fortress to stand between him and the predators. He needed a company with a serious plan, real faith in Ethan's future, and a willingness to protect their shared investment.
Ethan, sweet kid that he was, was still blissfully unaware of all this.
Which wasn't his fault.
It was Bill's idea from the beginning—to shield him. To let him enjoy the best parts of his fame, the applause, the awards, the fans, the thrill of success—without being dragged down by all the ugliness lurking underneath. Bill still wanted that for him. As long as he could, he would protect Ethan's happiness, shield him from the inevitable realities for just a little longer.
He knew it couldn't last forever. Sooner or later, Ethan would have to face it. But not yet.
Not if Bill had anything to say about it.
Walking into his office, Bill felt a renewed vigor firing through his veins. The electricity of purpose. The crackling intensity of a man who had work to do—and no time to waste.