Finding Us (Christian Interracial Romance)

Light After Dark

Jeremy

It's barely 8 a.m. when I'm yanked from a half-asleep haze by the shrill ringtone vibrating against my nightstand. I groan, squinting at the glowing screen. Max Wexler, my agent's name, flashes in bold letters. I know what that means—work. Or at least the possibility of it. I stretch, exhaling heavily, and grab the phone, swiping to answer before my brain fully catches up.

"Yeah?" I mutter, my voice rough from sleep. I rub a hand over my face and flop back into the pillows.

"Jeremy, my boy!" Max's booming voice fills my ear, way too energetic for this time of the morning. "I've got some great news for you!"

I sit up, instantly more alert. With Max, great news could mean anything from a guest spot on some low-budget TV show to a lead role in a blockbuster. My heart kicks up a notch, excitement and apprehension curling in my gut.

"Hit me with it," I say, forcing my voice to sound casual, even though I'm wide awake now.

"Okay, so I've been in talks with the casting director, Karen Montgomery from Redwood Productions for a project that could be killer for your image," Max says, pausing for dramatic effect, as if savoring the moment. "You've been cast as the boyfriend in a high-profile music video. The character you'd portray isn't just her boyfriend; he's also her emotional anchor, someone who's seen the darkest parts of her. It's intense, raw, almost tragic, in a way. We want to explore vulnerability, how fame isolates even those who appear to have everything. Big production. Big star."

Redwood Productions. My brain kicks into gear, processing the name. They're big. Music videos, short films, even a couple of indie movies that've made a splash at Sundance. 

"A music video?" I say, raising an eyebrow. It's not exactly what I expected, but it's not necessarily a bad thing either. Sometimes, music videos are just a stepping stone toward something bigger. "For who?"

"Let's just say she's a chart-topping pop sensation. You've definitely heard of her." Max's voice is teasing, but I can practically hear him grinning on the other end of the line. "This could be the perfect opportunity for you to pivot into a different audience, show some range, ya know?"

I frown slightly, not because I'm uninterested, but because Max tends to over-hype these things. Still, curiosity gets the better of me. "Alright, who is it?"

"Amaya Moon," Max announces with a flourish, like he's just unveiled a winning lottery ticket.

That stops me. Amaya Moon. Even if you've been living under a rock, you've heard of her. She's been dominating the charts for the past two years with her catchy pop hits and sultry persona. The girl's a social media darling with millions of fans. Her music videos rack up views in the hundreds of millions.

"Wait, Amaya Moon?" I repeat, needing to make sure I heard right.

"The one and only," Max confirms, a smug edge to his voice. "They want you to play her love interest in her latest video. It's gonna be huge. Trust me."

For a second, I'm stunned. This is the kind of gig that can get a guy noticed. Sure, it's just a music video, but Amaya's videos are like storytelling mini-films—high budget, cinematic, and dripping with attention. And there's no denying she's got a massive following. If I play this right, this could catapult me into a whole new level of visibility.

"That's... actually big," I say, my mind racing. "What's the song?"

"'Fading Into You'," Max says, and I can practically hear him shrug. "The concept is a sort of tragic romance. Think star-crossed lovers, but modern and sexy. You'll get the details in the script, but from what I've heard, it's going to be emotionally charged."