Chapter 87

A true triple threat, Sebastian Hartwell had built an empire as a global superstar who dominated music charts, dance floors, and box offices alike. Any project bearing his and Vivian Hartley's names became an instant sensation. Even an unknown actress landing the female lead would skyrocket to stardom overnight—proof of Ivory Phoenix Productions' uncompromising standards.

Lydia Bennett's brow furrowed with concern. "I saw online that 'Ambermyst' was something you wrote years ago. Do you still remember all the details? I've heard Sebastian can be... challenging. If he objects, even Mr. Vaughn might not be able to secure your spot."

Sebastian's reputation was legendary. Some called him arrogant, while others claimed his aloofness was a shield against industry scandals.

Vivian gave Lydia's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Relax. I could recite my work in my sleep. Let's not keep them waiting."

She hadn't been just another scriptwriter chasing deadlines back then—every sentence had been crafted with her soul. Her stories lived in her bones, and no challenge could shake her confidence.

When they entered the office, Damien Vaughn was absent. Instead, a young man sprawled across the sofa like a lazy panther, his designer ripped hoodie and jeans screaming calculated indifference. His long legs claimed half the room's space, a physical declaration of his disinterest.

His razor-sharp jawline and smoldering eyes painted a complex portrait—equal parts playful and intimidating. The rumors hadn't lied about his unapproachable aura.

Sebastian's career was the stuff of legends. Debuted at nineteen with a boy band, he'd conquered global stages, collecting platinum records and establishing himself as the group's undeniable leader.

After breaking free from a predatory agency, he'd launched a solo career that shattered records. His first romantic lead role had cemented his A-list status, a throne he'd never vacated since. His co-stars were either industry veterans or prodigies with extraordinary talent. If anyone had earned the right to be selective, it was him.

Vivian's entrance earned her a fleeting glance from Sebastian, his eyes sweeping over her before returning to his phone with palpable disinterest.

Just then, Damien emerged from the inner office with a smile. "Ah, you're here."

Sebastian's attitude didn't faze Vivian—to her, he was just another variable in the production equation. She strode forward confidently. "Good morning, Mr. Vaughn, Mr. Hartwell." With a gesture toward her companion, she added, "This is my agent, Lydia Bennett."

Sebastian unfolded himself with theatrical slowness, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Are we here for tea and crumpets, or shall we actually begin the audition?"

Vivian knew she wasn't everyone's cup of tea, but such open hostility from a stranger was puzzling. She mentally scanned her memories for any past conflicts. Nothing surfaced. The only person in Hollywood she genuinely disliked was Serena Whitmore. Ironically, she'd heard Sebastian himself couldn't stand Serena, making his current attitude even more baffling.

Damien nodded at Lydia and stepped forward, his movements measured as he worked to diffuse the tension. "I watched your 'Blazing Horizon' audition clips online," he began. "Vivian displayed remarkable emotional range. Today, let's explore the pivotal misunderstanding scene between the leads."

As his fingers brushed the script, Sebastian abruptly stood and intercepted it, pressing the pages flat against the desk. "Why limit her to familiar territory?" he challenged. "Compelling performances thrive on unpredictability. The rawest moments happen off-script. What if we improvise instead?"