The Lies We Tell Ourselves

Chapter 1

THREE MONTHS AGO BEFORE THE OSCARS

Laurent was waiting for his manager at home, too preoccupied to head to Gray Entertainment for their meeting (where his manager went to). He was practicing for his commercial for an up-and-coming energy drink, a project that could propel him to the top as last year's Rising Celebrity. He hadn't snagged the title last year, thanks to one woman who was getting on his nerves: Serena Vale.

'That woman...'

She was the only one consistently stealing his spotlight. With her untouchable, emotionless mask, she dominated the red carpet, manipulating the industry to maintain her strong presence. Yet, when it came time to work, she delivered. It was infuriating how effortlessly she played the game.

"Laurent? Where are you?" he heard his manager's familiar voice, Alen.

"I'm in my office," he called back.

Alen entered, wearing a problematic expression and letting out several heavy sighs. "I told you you should've come to the meeting earlier."

"Why would I? You were already there. What difference does it make?" Laurent replied, his eyes glued to the script.

"That's the problem; it did make a difference."

"Can you make this quick? I just finished reading this and trying to perfect this crap. By the way, who wrote this script? It's too short. Tell them to make it longer. I need more screen time-"

"You're not getting the role for this one, Laurent."

Like a flash of lightning, Laurent threw the script to the floor. "What?!"

"I told you that you should've come to the meeting earlier. The CEO-your father-suddenly made an appearance. He was furious that you still had the habit of not attending every meeting for your projects. And now, he ended up teaching you a lesson," Alen sighed, bracing himself for Laurent's inevitable tantrum. "So yeah, they gave the role to someone else."

"What the fuck?! This is ridiculous! Why didn't you tell me he was there?!"

Alen maintained a damn straight face, even though his mind was bursting with laughter. 'Told you he would throw a tantrum,' he thought, watching Laurent storm around the room. It was almost comical how predictable his reactions were, yet Alen had learned to mask his amusement. After all, managing Laurent was a delicate balance of professionalism and humor, and right now, professionalism was in high demand.

"I did! I called and texted you. You were too preoccupied," Alen reminded him, watching as Laurent checked his phone. Sure enough, Alen had contacted him, but he had been too absorbed in his own world. "This time, it's your fault. Go to your father right now, and maybe he'll change his mind."

"Ugh! Fuck!" Laurent then grabbed his coat and adjusted his necktie. "Call Father. Tell him I'll be at his office by 3. We need to sort this out. This is fucking ridiculous."

Alen sighed again, thinking, 'Why doesn't he just call his own father? He has his own phone. God, when will I get some rest? This guy is too hard-headed.'

Alen couldn't help but lie down on the sofa, relaxing for a moment before suddenly sitting up. "Oh crap! Laurent! I forgot to tell you something-!" But it was too late; Laurent had already stormed out.

'Not my fault he left without hearing me,' Alen thought, shaking his head with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

LAURENT ARRIVED earlier than he had anticipated.