Behind the Spotlight

Ethan’s POV

Los Angeles, California – Golden Arc Awards Night

The image of me in the dressing room mirror looked exactly like the Hollywood hottie I was meant to be. My hair is just tousled enough to look effortless, my black suit is perfectly tailored, and a silver watch peeks out from my cuff.

Regretfully, I detested everything.

Another awards ceremony, another evening of acting as though I did not want to burn half of these people alive.

I loosened my necktie and let out a slow breath. Just make it through the night. For the cameras, smile. Give the right hands a shake. Be as though you care.

I was startled out of my reverie by a loud knock on the door.

"All set?" My agent Mason poked his head in. He was already browsing through his phone, most likely looking for the most recent PR calamity on T*****r.

"Do I have an option?" I whispered.

"Not unless you wish to be placed on a blacklist." At last, Mason raised his head. Additionally, please refrain from punching Julian tonight. We are still coping with the mess you caused last time.

I grinned. There was no punch in that. That shove was friendly.

Mason deadpanned, "You called him a 'washed-up theatre rat' in front of millions of people."

I gave a shrug. "He initially referred to me as a 'brainless action puppet.'"

"Christ Jesus." Mason gave his temples a rub. "This rivalry is very popular on the internet, but I beg you—do not do it tonight. The studio does not want negative publicity.

Yes. Because PR was all that mattered to Hollywood. Not skill. Not actual labour. Only headlines, clicks, and who was trending on T*****r.

I walked out onto the red carpet after pushing past Mason.

The crowd's roar struck me at once.

Fans yelled my name, cameras flashed, and the typical mayhem of Hollywood's elite whirled around me. I gave them the Ethan Hale charm they had all anticipated by putting on my trademark smirk and making a few waves.

Then Julian Cross stepped onto the carpet, because the universe, of course, loved to torture me.

The sound intensified.

My whole body was tense.

Julian, wearing a dapper navy-blue suit, looked like the cocky, conceited jerk that ruined my life. hair that is perfectly styled. That gratingly easy confidence. A smile that had to be fake because it was so naturally endearing.

He glanced in my direction.

Then he winked, just to make me angry.

I tightened my jaw. Hurt.

A reporter thrust a microphone in my face before I could respond.

"Ethan Hale! Julian Cross! Should we be concerned that we are all in one location?

Julian smiled as though he was having fun. "Not at all. I would not waste my time arguing with Ethan.

I sneered. "All right. That is something you only do on T*****r.

The reporter sensed the tension and laughed uneasily. "Your rivalry has been discussed a lot. Is there any possibility of future cooperation?

I retorted, "Not unless Julian finds a personality all of a sudden."

Julian grinned. "And not until Ethan develops his acting skills."

Hell in hell.

The cameras devoured it.

Then the reporter's smile turned sly because my luck was a complete mess.

You have a funny way of saying that! According to rumours, you two are shortlisted for the same romantic lead role. Is it possible?

Hold on, what?

I tensed up. For once, Julian beside me actually looked surprised.

We both said, "What?" simultaneously.

The reporter laughed. "Heart's Requiem is a huge LGBTQ+ movie. large director. ardent tale of love. You two are at the top of the list, according to insiders.

Glaring at Julian, I turned. "You were aware of this?"

He knitted his brows. "Obviously not."

The reporter grinned broadly. "You two may soon be spending a lot of time together if the rumours are accurate!"

Though I was already in a panic, I forced a tight smile.

If I were genuinely being considered by Hollywood to play Julian Cross's romantic lead...

I was completely screwed.

An Hour Later: Inside the Award Ceremony

As I swirled the whisky in my glass at my designated table, I watched Julian across the room as if he were some sort of goddamn supervillain.

Seated at his own table, he appeared totally comfortable and was laughing with his co-stars. He was the epitome of the Hollywood Golden Boy.

Beside me, Mason whispered, "Just breathe." "You still have your next action movie even if Julian wins."

I frowned. That was the issue.

People had categorised me throughout my career. The rebellious action star of Hollywood. In dramatic roles, the man who smirked at the camera and threw punches was never taken seriously.

This nomination was significant.

The commentator entered the stage.

"And the recipient of the Golden Arc Award for Best Actor in a Drama is... A dramatic silence.

“For Silent Echo, Julian Cross!”

The audience burst out.

I drank all of my whisky.

With a flawless Hollywood grin, Julian got up and walked over to the stage.

A jerk.

Mason gave me a nudge. "Give a smile. You are being filmed.

I compelled myself to join the applause, but I swear to God that I could sense Julian's joy from the other side of the room.

His voice was as smooth as silk as he took the mic. After saying, "I want to thank my incredible team, the director, and of course, my fellow nominees," he turned to face me because he was a cunning, evil jerk.

"Ethan Hale, I must admit that your performance was amazing. Being nominated with you is an honour.

The audience adored it.

I tightened my jaw. You smug little—

Desperate for a strong drink and some fresh air, I headed straight for the exit after the ceremony.

Julian, however, had no choice but to follow.

"Going out so quickly?" He teased in a smooth voice.

I came to a halt. Inhaled deeply. Three o'clock.

Julian was still holding his award and grinning like he had just won a huge battle when I turned around.

He laughed and remarked, "You looked miserable when they announced my name." "At least act like you are pleased for me."

I sneered. "Believe me, I was overjoyed."

"Really?" He cocked his head. Why do you appear to want to hurl your drink at me, then?

I gave a sharp exhale. "Cross, relish your moment. Make an effort to keep your ego from growing.

He laughed. Well, I do not have to. You take care of us both well enough.

I started to walk away, but his next statement made me reconsider.

“Incidentally,” Julian thought. That part in Requiem for Heart? Next week, the director will make his final choice.

Slowly, I turned around. "And?"

"And if both of us are actually in the running..." His voice was now lower as he stepped closer. "I suppose that means we will be seeing each other a lot more."

His delivery of it gave me a strange, annoying shock.

Julian simply smiled, gave me a shoulder pat, and left me with the tiniest hint of cologne and the unmistakable impression that my life was about to turn into a goddamn nightmare before I could think of a witty reply.

Because I was going to embark on the most vexing, frustrating, and hazardous job of my career if Julian Cross was indeed my rival for this movie.

I also did not know if I would make it through.