Starlight Chronicles: Rise to Hollywood

Ethan opened his mouth to speak but Michael cut him off, "Of course you can," Michael scratched his beard. "Jennifer, get my lucky bagel on standby. I have a feeling about my luck today! It's gonna be no cuts today!"

Michael clapped his hands together. "Alright, people, focus up! Let's get this scene in one take. Sarah, Dominic, you're on. Everyone else, in your positions. And Ian—uh, Eliot, whatever—stay in the background until the final shot."

Ethan shuffled awkwardly toward his mark, a desk tucked into the corner of the brightly lit office set. The room was buzzing with crew members adjusting lights and equipment, while the main actors—Sarah Blankett and Dominic Cross, the lead playing her boss-slash-love interest—took center stage near a polished executive desk.

Ethan was supposed to look busy, flipping through some fake files and pretending to be part of the office. Just another faceless extra in the crowd. His real moment wouldn't come until the end of the scene, where the camera would linger on his expression before cutting to black.

"Alright, quiet on set!" Michael called out. The crew scrambled to their places as the camera operator gave a thumbs-up.

"And… action!"

Sarah's voice carried the weight of the scene as she stepped into the frame, a folder clutched tightly in her hand. Her heels clicked against the hardwood floor, her every movement precise and commanding.

"I can't keep doing this, Mr. Callahan," she said, her voice trembling just enough to sell the vulnerability. "Every time I try to move forward, you pull me back. I need clarity—something real, you can't give me that."

Dominic leaned back in his chair, oozing authority with his perfectly tailored suit and a faint smirk. "Clarity, Ms. Greer? You think you'll find that by walking away?" He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. "You're in too deep, and you know it."

The tension between them was palpable, the kind that sucked all the air out of the room. Ethan found himself caught up in the performance despite himself, glancing up from his fake work. His eyes flicked to Sarah, who was pouring raw emotion into every word, and then to Dominic, whose calm dominance made the scene feel electric.

"Cut!" Michael's voice broke the spell. "That was good! Sarah, a little more hesitation on your next take. Dominic, lean into the threat—give me more edge. Reset!"

Ethan tried to keep his breathing steady as everyone repositioned. He glanced at Riley, who was furiously scribbling notes on his clipboard. "They're good," Ethan muttered under his breath, more to himself than anyone else.

"Yeah," Riley replied without looking up. "They're professionals. Don't psych yourself out before your shot, man."

"Places!" Michael called out again. "Background, stay in character. This time, we're running it all the way through to the final shot."

Ethan nodded and hunched over his fake paperwork as the camera rolled once more. The scene began again, with Sarah and Dominic delivering their lines with even more intensity. As the tension between their characters reached its peak, Sarah stormed toward the window—the camera following her every move—before freezing in place.

System, turn on office worker card.

[Office worker card, initiated, assimilating host with card…. Assimilating…. Assimilating…. Assimilated]

Ethan froze as the words flashed in his mind, a faint tingle crawling down his spine. It wasn't painful, but it was… weird. Like someone had pressed a reset button inside him.

Suddenly, everything around him felt sharper. The desk didn't feel fake anymore—it felt like his actual workspace. 

The paperwork he was pretending to read now looked real, filled with charts, numbers, and notes he instinctively understood. Even the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead sounded familiar, as if he'd spent years under them.

His back straightened, and his hand gripped the pen in front of him with purpose. His posture shifted, confident but subtle, the way someone who spent too many hours at a desk might sit. He wasn't just Ethan Cole anymore. He was Eliot, the overworked and underpaid office worker stuck in a dead-end job.

The scene carried on, Sarah's voice rising as she delivered her final line. Ethan barely noticed her now; his mind was entirely in the role. He scribbled something on the paper in front of him, just enough movement to look natural. His expression tightened, a tired frustration creeping in, like he'd heard the heated argument playing out between Sarah and Dominic's characters a hundred times before and knew it wouldn't change a thing.

This was the cue. The camera shifted, pulling focus onto him as Sarah stepped out of the frame. The prssure of the scene landed squarely on his shoulders. He let the exhaustion take over, his face a mix of resignation and hopelessness.

For a second, the set went silent. The air felt thick, all eyes drawn to Ethan, who didn't even notice. He just stared down at the desk, his jaw tight, a flicker of bitterness in his eyes. 

The system had taken over, guiding his every move, but it felt… natural. Like it was all him.

"Cut!" Michael's voice shattered the tension. "That's what I'm talking about! That's the look I wanted. Perfect."

Ethan blinked, the fog lifting from his mind. The office worker card faded, leaving him disoriented. 

He looked up, realizing the crew was staring at him. Some were nodding, others murmuring quietly. Even Sarah, standing off to the side, seemed momentarily caught off guard.

Michael pointed at him, a rare grin splitting his face. "Ilya, huh? Kid, you might actually have something. Today must be my lucky day or something! No cuts! Jennifer get ready for the next shot! Also get me my goodluck bagel and Pom poms!"

Ethan blinked, his heart pounding. He hadn't even realized how hard he was gripping the edge of the desk. As the crew began to reset for the next scene, Sarah walked past him, sparing him a glance that was equal parts dismissive and unimpressed.

"Goodluck Ian," she muttered under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Damn, meeting your idols suck ass.

Ethan clenched his jaw but said nothing. He'd nailed his shot. That was all that mattered. For now.