Los Angeles – January 5th, 2023 – 6:32 AM
Ethan didn't sleep much.
He rarely did.
Sleep was optional when your life ran on adrenaline, cameras, and million-dollar contracts. But today, his nerves weren't from pressure or performance. They came from something more personal.
His rival was back in town.
He was sprawled across a hotel mattress at the Four Seasons, scrolling through headlines: "Luca Rivera Returns to Hollywood After Two Years in Europe" — "The Prince of Pop is Back" — "Rivera vs. Moser: The Showdown We Didn't Know We Needed."
Ethan scoffed.
Luca had been the industry's favorite before Ethan's rise. Perfect teeth, perfect abs, and just enough fake humility to pass as "relatable." The press loved him. Labels adored him. And Ethan? He saw right through it.
He stood, stretched, and walked to the mirror. A brief glance at his reflection — shirtless, jaw sharp, eyes sharp — then looked away.
"Let them write what they want," he muttered. "They'll know the truth soon enough."
---
8:00 AM – Netflix Soundstage
Filming started early.
Ethan's new reality docuseries, Life on Stage, followed his dual life as a global popstar and athlete. Today's shoot involved an intense football training montage, followed by a behind-the-scenes look at his upcoming album.
As the cameras rolled, Ethan dribbled past cones, shot goal after goal, sweat dripping down his temple, jaw clenched with focus. No stunt doubles. No second takes. Just pure perfection.
"You always train like the World Cup is tomorrow?" the director joked between shots.
Ethan glanced over. "It might as well be. I don't show up just to exist. I show up to dominate."
Everyone went silent for a beat.
Then the assistant director whispered, "That's going in the trailer."
---
1:15 PM – Warner Bros. Backlot – Press Photoshoot
He swapped cleats for high fashion. Now wearing an all-black Saint Laurent suit and Cuban heels, Ethan posed against a retro Cadillac, the poster backdrop of Stardust Highway behind him.
The photographer snapped away. "Gimme arrogance. Give me 'I own this city.' Yes, exactly like that. Beautiful, Ethan. Hold it."
Billie watched from the sidelines in a champagne-colored gown. "You're so dramatic."
He didn't even look at her. "Dramatic pays the bills."
"You're unbelievable."
He finally turned, gave her a once-over, slow and deliberate. "So are you. In that dress? I might propose just for the headlines."
She rolled her eyes. "Please. TMZ already thinks we eloped last weekend."
"Let's give them a reason."
Flashbulbs exploded.
---
3:00 PM – L.A. Confidential Interview Room
Another room. Another interview.
This time with L.A. Confidential Magazine. The journalist, a woman in her early thirties with a sharp bob and sharper questions, smiled politely. Ethan leaned back in his chair, confident, unreadable.
"You've conquered music, sports, and now film. What's next for Ethan Moser?"
"Global takeover."
She laughed. He didn't.
"And what about Luca Rivera returning to L.A.? A lot of fans are comparing your careers—"
"I don't compete with people I've already passed."
There was silence.
The journalist hesitated. "He called you a 'product of hype' in an interview last week."
Ethan looked straight at her. Cold. Calm.
"Tell him I said thank you for staying relevant. Even if it's only by saying my name."
---
5:30 PM – Dressing Room – Red Carpet Event
His stylist fussed with his tie. Billie was applying lipstick in the adjacent mirror. Outside, hundreds of fans screamed their names, paparazzi waiting like wolves.
"You ready?" she asked, adjusting her earring.
"I was born ready."
"Cocky much?"
He met her gaze in the mirror. "Confident. Big difference."
They walked out together. The crowd roared.
Flashes lit up the sky as the two descended the carpet — Ethan in custom Dior, Billie in a sparkling Versace piece that hugged her figure perfectly. He whispered something in her ear. She laughed, knowing full well the cameras would catch it and spin it into 100 new headlines.
"Ethan! Billie! Are you dating? Are the rumors true? What about Luca Rivera's return?"
He stopped mid-step.
Turned to one of the cameras.
"Who?"
A beat. Laughter. Applause.
And just like that, another viral moment was born.
---
7:00 PM – Inside the Gala
Ethan made his way through the VIP section, greeting execs, actors, and influencers. He knew how to work a room. Every smile was calculated. Every laugh designed. But then—
"Didn't expect to see you here."
Luca Rivera.
Taller than expected. Wearing a smug grin and a velvet blazer. The type of guy who used cologne like a personality.
Ethan turned slowly, glass in hand.
"Didn't know they were letting B-listers in tonight."
Luca chuckled. "Still witty. That hasn't changed."
"Still plastic. That hasn't either."
A silent stare-off. Energy thick. Flashbacks of awards lost, fans fought over, and one very public Twitter war.
Luca leaned in. "Let's see who really runs this city."
Ethan didn't blink. "I already do."
---
10:45 PM – Rooftop Lounge – Private Afterparty
Away from the noise, Billie and Ethan sat on a velvet couch under fairy lights and city stars. A bottle of champagne between them.
"You're quiet," she said.
"Luca."
"Ah."
"He thinks he's my rival. He's not. He's a memory."
Billie looked at him carefully. "So erase him."
He turned toward her.
"Help me," he said. "Let's do something they can't ignore."
She smirked. "Like what?"
"A song. A performance. Something raw. Something that reminds them why there's only one me."
Billie raised her glass. "To chaos, then."
They clinked glasses.
"To chaos."
---