June 8, 2010, Los Angeles. Ethan Kane sat in his Beverly Hills mansion, the city's skyline glittering through floor-to-ceiling windows, but his eyes were glued to his laptop. The Daily Sign-In System's latest gift—an encrypted file on Vincent Drake, the rival producer who'd stormed into his rehearsal with Taylor Swift last night—glowed on the screen. Drake's threat still echoed: *Watch your back.* Ethan's jaw tightened. He hadn't clawed his way back from death to let a Hollywood shark like Drake derail his empire. Apex Pictures was his, and so was his shot at rewriting the stars—with Taylor, with Heidi Klum, with the world.
The system's holographic panel flickered to life at dawn, its chime now a daily ritual. **Daily Sign-In Available. Sign In to Receive Your Reward.** Ethan pressed the invisible button, his pulse quickening as the panel updated.
**Sign-In Successful! Reward: Elite Legal Team Access (Top-tier attorneys to protect Apex Pictures). Additional Reward: $4,000,000 for Second Chance Production Expansion.**
Ethan's grin was sharp. The *Elite Legal Team* was a shield against Drake's schemes, and the $4 million pushed *Second Chance*'s budget to $14 million—enough to rival studio giants like *Inception*, set to dominate theaters next month. But the encrypted file was the real weapon. He opened it, the system's *Advanced Scriptwriting Software* doubling as a decryption tool, revealing a trove of emails and financial records. Drake's studio, Vantage Films, was funneling money through offshore accounts, dodging taxes, and—most damning—bribing critics to tank rival indie films, including Apex's last flop. Ethan's blood ran hot. This wasn't just dirty business; it was war.
He forwarded the file to his new legal team, a firm called Sterling & Roth, with a note: *Investigate Vincent Drake. Discreetly.* The system chimed: *Challenge Progress: 10% Complete. Neutralize Drake to Unlock Major Reward.* Ethan leaned back, the leather chair creaking. Drake thought he was untouchable, but Ethan had the universe on his side.
His phone buzzed—a text from Heidi Klum, sent from the *Project Runway* charity fashion show's venue, tied to the show's eighth season, airing this summer. *Hey, Ethan, you're still coming tonight, right? Got a front-row seat with your name on it.* Her words, casual yet warm, sent a jolt through him. Their backstage moment at the amfAR event yesterday—her hand brushing his sleeve, her green eyes locking onto his—had left him restless. Heidi, a 37-year-old supermodel and TV titan, was a force, and Ethan wanted her in Apex's orbit, not just for business but for something deeper.
---
The Shrine Auditorium buzzed with 2010's fashion elite, the air thick with perfume and ambition. The *Project Runway* charity show, supporting the AIDS Research Foundation, drew designers, models, and celebrities, with billboards outside hyping *Glee*'s season 2 premiere and the iPhone 4's June launch. Ethan stepped out of his Lamborghini, his tailored Zegna suit catching flashes from paparazzi. At 17, he felt like an imposter among LA's glitterati, but the system's *Charisma Boost* made him move like he owned the room.
Inside, the runway glowed under LED lights, showcasing avant-garde designs inspired by *Project Runway*'s latest challenges. Ethan found his seat, front-row center, next to Heidi Klum. She stood out in a crimson gown, its plunging neckline bold yet elegant, her blonde hair swept into an updo that screamed runway royalty. She turned, her smile radiant, and patted the seat beside her.
"Ethan Kane, you clean up nice," she teased, her German accent warm. "Ready to see some fashion magic?"
"Only if it's as impressive as you," Ethan shot back, the *Charisma Boost* smoothing his flirtation. Heidi laughed, her eyes crinkling, and leaned closer, her shoulder brushing his.
"You're trouble," she said, her voice low, playful. "But I like trouble. Tell me, what's next for Apex? You've got my designers buzzing about your movie."
Ethan's *Master Filmmaking* skill kicked in, painting a vivid pitch. "*Second Chance* is moving fast. Script's nearly done, locations scouted. I'm casting next week, aiming for Sundance 2011. Your team's costumes could make it iconic—think futuristic chic, like *Blade Runner* meets *Vogue*."
Heidi's eyes lit up. "I love that. My designers could go wild with that vibe. Let's set up a meeting with my top team—maybe tomorrow?" She paused, her fingers brushing his wrist as she adjusted her clutch. The touch was fleeting, electric, sending heat up his arm. "You're not what I expected, Ethan. Most guys your age are chasing selfies, not empires."
He met her gaze, the auditorium's hum fading. "I'm not most guys," he said, his voice steady despite the rush in his chest. "I'm building something that lasts, and I want you in it."
Her smile softened, a flicker of something deeper in her eyes. "Careful what you wish for, Ethan Kane."
Before he could respond, the lights dimmed, and the runway show began. Models strutted in daring designs—neon fabrics, asymmetrical cuts—while Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" pulsed through the speakers, a nod to her 2009 reign. Ethan watched, but his mind split between Heidi's warmth beside him and the encrypted file. Drake's bribes could ruin Apex if exposed at the wrong time. He needed to play this smart.
---
Backstage, after the show, Ethan followed Heidi to a costume rack where designers adjusted last-minute fittings. The air was chaotic—models rushing, stylists shouting, the scent of hairspray thick. Heidi grabbed a silver scarf from a rack, draping it over a mannequin's shoulder. "This is the vibe you want for *Second Chance*," she said, her hands deft. "Bold, futuristic, but human."
Ethan stepped closer, inspecting the scarf's metallic sheen. "Perfect. It's exactly the edge we need." Their hands brushed as he touched the fabric, her fingers lingering a moment too long. The contact sent a spark through him, her green eyes meeting his with a knowing smile.
"Careful," she whispered, teasing, as she adjusted the scarf on the mannequin, her arm grazing his. "You're distracting me, and I've got a show to run."
He grinned, leaning in just enough to keep the tension alive. "Maybe I'm the one distracted."
The moment hung, charged, until a stage manager called Heidi for a press interview. She sighed, handing him a business card. "Tomorrow, my office, 10 AM. Bring your script, and we'll talk costumes. Don't be late, Ethan Kane." Her smile was a promise, her departure leaving him breathless.
As he left the auditorium, the system chimed: *Bonus Reward: Insider Tip – Vincent Drake's Next Move. Meeting with Rogue Investor Tomorrow.* Ethan's eyes narrowed. A rogue investor? Drake was planning something big, and Ethan needed to know what. His phone buzzed again—Sterling & Roth, his legal team. *Drake's offshore accounts linked to Cayman shell company. Evidence admissible. Proceed?*
Ethan's heart pounded. Exposing Drake could cripple Vantage Films, but the timing had to be perfect. He typed back: *Hold evidence. Dig deeper.* The system's warning flashed: *Challenge Progress: 25% Complete. Neutralize Drake to Unlock Game-Changing Reward.*
He stepped into the LA night, the city's neon lights mirroring his ambition. Taylor Swift's song, Heidi Klum's touch, Drake's schemes—the stakes were skyrocketing. But a new text stopped him cold. From an unknown number: *Kane, you're playing with fire. Drop Apex, or I'll burn you down.* Drake? Or someone worse? Ethan's grip tightened on his phone, the system silent, offering no answers.