CHAPTER 299: CHAPTER 298: YOU ARE FINISHED

His words carried an easy, tempting rhythm, meant to make the girls picture themselves on red carpets, in spotlights, with all eyes on them. He knew that was how it started—plant the dream, let it grow, and eventually, they’d start coming to him. Once they were chasing the fantasy, they’d be in his hands.

It wasn’t the first time. He’d played this game with more than a few before... wide-eyed newcomers, fresh off the bus, hearts pounding with ambition. Beautiful girls who came to Los Angeles thinking talent was all it took, only to find themselves in the hands of men like him.

Victor’s voice flowed like warm syrup, casual yet deliberate, mixing industry jargon with just enough sparkle to keep the hook hidden. As they moved down the corridor, he gestured toward glass-walled offices and buzzing clusters of desks, narrating with the pride of a man showing off a kingdom.

"Here’s where the scripts get filtered... thousands of hopeful ideas every week, only a handful worth more than a coffee break. Over there’s casting, the heartbeat of any production. And beyond that, post-production, where the real magic happens. But..." his voice dipped, silk turning to velvet, "...Hollywood isn’t magic," he said, "it’s machinery. But if you know where to stand, the machinery works for you. You get seen. You get remembered. And once you’re remembered... doors stop being locked."

His eyes slid to Hannah and the others again, lingering just long enough to be felt. "Some people get noticed because of raw talent. Others because they... understand the stage they’re standing on."

The implication hung there like cologne too strong to ignore. Rex caught the quick flicker in Hannah’s eyes... polite, but uneasy... and his jaw tightened. Victor was still talking, weaving in hints of red carpets and champagne nights, careful not to say the words directly but letting the idea bloom in their minds.

It was the same tired lure he’d spun a hundred times, but Rex had heard enough. Every smug syllable scraped against his nerves, each sly glance at girls tightening the coil inside him. He could practically taste the man’s smugness, that unshakable belief that he owned the room... and the people in it.

"It’s not about luck," Victor continued. "It’s about presence. Look at this place... half the faces here were nobodies a year ago. Now? Invitations, photo shoots, name recognition. This city rewards the people who fit into its story."

Rex’s lips twitched, but not in amusement. "And what story would that be?" he asked, tone almost casual.

Victor smiled, pleased at the opening. "The one where you learn to play the game. You make the right connections, show the right faces... at the right times." He let the pause hang before adding, "You’d be amazed how quickly the right kind of people can change your life."

It was dressed up as advice, but Rex heard the undertone, sour and unmistakable. He glanced around. A few employees nearby had slowed their work, listening while pretending not to.

Rex stopped walking. "You know, there’s another trick to doors."

Victor blinked, faintly irritated at being interrupted. "Oh?"

"They’re not all worth walking through," Rex said, voice steady but louder now, enough for the nearby desks to catch. "Especially the ones guarded by people who think they own what’s on the other side."

A hush fell over the nearest desks. People stopped typing. Eyes lifted from monitors.

Victor stopped walking. Slowly, he turned, eyebrows raised in mock surprise. "Careful there, junior. This isn’t some freshman sparring match. You don’t know who you’re talking to."

"Oh, I know," Rex replied, stepping forward.

The employees exchanged glances. Someone stifled a laugh. Victor’s jaw tightened, color creeping up his neck.

Desperate to salvage his image, he straightened, forced a laugh, and turned to the girls. "See, this is what happens when kids think they’re ready for the real world—"

"Funny," Rex cut in, "I thought the real world was about earning respect, not assuming it."

A ripple of murmurs passed through the nearby employees, a few slowing their steps to watch. Victor’s jaw tightened, the fake smile barely holding. Finally unable to control himself, he stepped closer, voice dropping to a low, patronizing drawl meant only for Rex but loud enough for the girls to hear.

"You’re just visiting," he said, leaning in slightly. "You don’t see the pressure, the late nights, the deals that make or break careers. This world isn’t for everyone... only for those willing to... play along."

The way he said it wasn’t for Rex’s benefit... it was aimed at the girls, a calculated lure dressed as wisdom. His eyes flicked over them with the kind of familiarity that didn’t belong in a professional setting.

The girls exchanged uneasy glances, but Victor didn’t miss a beat, pacing as he spoke like some seasoned insider letting them in on forbidden secrets.

"You think it’s all lights and cameras," he said, voice dipping lower, as though confiding in them. "But what really makes this place tick is who you know, and how much they like you. Doors open for those who... fit the part."

Victor’s smirk deepened as his hand brushed just a little too close to Hannah’s shoulder, lingering in a way that made her shift back.

Rex’s eyes narrowed. "You should keep your hands to yourself."

Victor glanced at him, feigning confusion. "What? Just being friendly."

"Yeah," Rex said, his voice cool but loaded, "you seem very good at being ’friendly’... until it costs someone their dignity."

Victor chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Word of advice, kid—try not to bite off more than you can chew. Mouth off to the wrong person around here, and you’ll regret it."

"Save the scare tactics." Rex replied, stepping forward just enough to make Victor’s smirk falter, "And I know the difference between a professional and a creep. And right now, everyone here can see which one you are."

The nearby employees froze mid-step. A few pretended to be busy but angled themselves closer, ears pricked.

Victor’s tone sharpened, furious, as nobody dared to retort him the company. "Watch your mouth, kid. You have no idea who you’re talking to."

"Oh, I know exactly who I’m talking to," Rex shot back, stepping forward so they were nearly chest to chest. "The guy who thinks dangling scraps of a dream lets him take whatever he wants."

A murmur rolled through the room. Someone stifled a laugh; another whispered something that made their friend’s eyes widen.

Victor’s smile cracked. "You think you can come in here and disrespect me? Someone like you won’t even survive a day in real world."

Rex tilted his head, voice carrying just enough for everyone to hear. "Funny. That’s what people usually say when they’re scared of losing their grip."

That did it... Victor’s face flushed dark, and he jabbed a finger toward Rex. "You have no idea what kind of trouble you just bought yourself."

"Maybe," Rex said, utterly unflinching, "but at least I can still look at myself in the mirror without flinching."

The tension snapped. A low, shocked "ooh" rippled through the small crowd that had now fully gathered. Phones were out... half pretending to check messages, half recording.

Victor’s voice rose, dripping venom. "You’re finished. I’ll make sure you never get work in this city." He turned to the room, desperate to salvage some dominance. "Everyone here will remember this—"

"Good," Rex cut in, "I’ll take my chances. But if you put your hands on one of them again..."

He let the rest hang, the weight in his tone making it perfectly clear what would follow

(End of Chapter)