Monday mornings had always been a dreadful start for Jax, especially since he had to reach work before 8:00 a.m., enduring the long early morning traffic in the bustling city of Spectra—a metropolis renowned for its entertainment industry and A-list celebrities. The congested streets and the growling of Jax's stomach only added to his hatred for Mondays. He hadn't eaten the night before, having spent all night preparing for his promotion and working on his presentation for the board. This time, he was determined to secure the managerial position, overseeing one of the country's top celebrities.
Jax hadn't been born in Spectra City. He'd moved there at sixteen after graduating high school and earning a scholarship to study at the city's top university. Shortly after graduating, he was scouted by an entertainment company and hired as a personal assistant to a manager of some of the most popular celebrities. For four years, Jax had worked tirelessly, aiming for a promotion. Becoming a manager wasn't just a career step for him—it was a ticket to a bigger salary, recognition for his dedication, and the opportunity to travel the world.
This was the life he'd always dreamed of, and he hoped desperately that this year would finally be the one. For the past two years, his applications had been rejected with excuses about his lack of experience or being too new to the industry. Each rejection forced him to wait another year, and Jax wasn't sure he could endure that again. He'd already decided: if things didn't work out this time, he'd leave Spectra City and return to his hometown. He didn't want to stay as a personal assistant for another year while his dream remained unattainable. He wanted something else and would do anything to achieve his goals.
"Get off the road!" Jax's thoughts were shattered by the angry shout of a driver beside him. A car had suddenly swerved into his lane, cutting him off. The blaring horns and yelling drivers were another reminder of the chaos that defined Monday mornings in Spectra City. It was always like this during rush hour; only the smartest—or the luckiest—could get through the heavy traffic.
"Oh goodness," Jax muttered, glancing at his wristwatch. It read 7:10 a.m., giving him enough time to make it to the office, but he was already getting impatient. He drummed his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel of his old 1987 Toyota Corolla Dx. His car was an eyesore amidst the highway's parade of exotic vehicles, but what could Jax do? His salary barely covered his apartment and chipped away at his mounting debts. This was just another reason why Jax needed that promotion. With the raise, he could afford a better car—one that wouldn't embarrass him on Spectra's highways—and maybe even a new apartment, considering the manager's benefits package.
Lost in his thoughts, Jax's attention was abruptly drawn to a sleek black sports car swerving around the corner, pursued by a swarm of paparazzi. Its tires screeched as it drove sharply into Jax's lane while the paparazzi were hot on its trail, their cameras and microphones ready.
"Must be a celebrity," Jax thought, looking away from the scene. It wasn't the first time he'd witnessed such a spectacle. He refocused on the traffic light, waiting for it to turn green when a sudden knock on his car window startled him. Turning, he saw a disheveled man wearing a nose mask, banging desperately on the glass.
The man's frantic gestures and the paparazzi closing in on him told Jax everything he needed to know—this was the celebrity being chased in that sporty car. Jax hesitated but then opened the door without a second thought. The man jumped in, slamming the door shut behind him.
Jax stared at his unexpected passenger, taking in his appearance. The nose mask obscured most of his face, but his beautiful obsidian eyes were impossible to ignore. They locked eyes for a moment, a silent exchange, until the paparazzi swarmed Jax's car, cameras clicking furiously.
"Please, just drive," the stranger pleaded, his low, rough voice tinged with desperation. "Get me out of here."
Jax hit the accelerator without a word, maneuvering through traffic as the light turned red. Luckily, they exited the heaviest part of the traffic. Once they were free of the paparazzi, Jax's curiosity got the better of him. He glanced at the man and then asked the question on his mind since the man entered his car. ″I know you're a celebrity, but who are you?"
The man's eyes darted around the car, clearly uneasy. Instead of answering, he said, "Please, drive me to the nearest bus stop. I have a car waiting for me there."
Jax frowned. "I don't have time for this. I have a promotion interview, and I'm already running late."
The stranger clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture. Jax noticed the luxury wristwatch he wore—a Patek Philippe Grandmaster Chime. It was absurdly expensive, confirming the man's celebrity status.
"Please," the man implored again. "My identity must remain hidden."
Jax snorted. "You're one problematic celebrity, aren't you?"
The stranger didn't respond but locked his gaze on Jax. "I'll remember your kindness. Forever."
Jax almost laughed at the idea. A celebrity with millions of fans wouldn't remember someone like him. Still, something about the stranger's desperation tugged at Jax's conscience, and he nodded in response to his request. "Fine," he agreed, mentally calculating the time to drop him off and still make it to the office.
The stranger's face relaxed, and they heaved a sigh of relief. "Thank you. This means a lot to me."
They reached the bus stop quickly. The man gestured toward a sleek black van parked nearby.
"That's my car," he said.
Jax watched as the stranger opened the door to leave but then hesitated."What's your name?" The man asked him.
He raised an eyebrow, skeptical of the question, but answered anyway. "Jax Cristobal Torres."
The stranger nodded and then turned to leave. As he walked away, Jax started his car and swung it around, making a U-turn in the middle of the road. From the opposite side, Jax watched as the stranger slipped into the black van. He couldn't help but wonder who the stranger was and why he was running from the paparazzi. He tried to recall the names of celebrities recently embroiled in scandals, but he quickly gave up. There were too many to consider, and he resigned to the thought that he'd never meet the stranger again.
Ten minutes to 8:00 a.m., Jax arrived at Sapphire Entertainment, one of the city's leading agencies, and his place of work. He parked his car in the garage and stepped out, immediately spotting the sleek red Ferrari 488 GTB belonging to his boss, Regina Santos, the top manager of the country's most popular actress.
"She's already here," Jax muttered, walking past her car toward the sleek, modern building. He waved and greeted the familiar face of Mark, the security guard.
"Good morning, Mark."
"Good morning, Jax. Good luck with your promotion, buddy."
Jax thanked him with a nod and stepped into the elevator. As he ascended, he exchanged polite greetings with colleagues from various departments. He pressed the button for his floor and rubbed his hands together.
" I heard the pro; heon rules have changed," someone murmured behind him.
"Don't know how they expect us to meet the new targets," another added.
Jax frowned but tuned out the chatter, focusing on his plans for the promotion interview. He had worked tirelessly for this opportunity, and Regina had assured him it was his. He stepped out and deeply breathed when the elevator doors slid open. Passing several desks, he exchanged brief smiles with his busy coworkers.
He reached the desk of Ariana's partner and greeted her warmly. ″Good morning."
Ariana looked up from her computer, meeting his gaze. "Good morning," she replied, gesturing toward Regina's office.
"She's been asking for you," Ariana whispered with a smile. "Maybe this promotion will happen sooner than expected."
Jax smiled back at her. ″Thank you,″ he said, turning toward Regina's office door. As he approached the sturdy, dark wood door with its polished brass handle and the nameplate reading Regina Santos, CEO, in elegant silver letters, his heart raced with nerves and anticipation, knowing he was about to get what he had always wanted.
"This is it," Jax muttered, rubbing his sweaty palms together. "Go get it!"
Taking a deep breath, he raised his hand and knocked.
"Come in," Regina's smooth, melodious voice called from inside.
Jax turned the handle and stepped in with a confident smile. "Good morning, Regina."
Regina, a poised woman in her late 40s with a sharp jawline and piercing green eyes, returned his greeting with a warm smile. "Morning, Jax. Please, have a seat."
Jax raised an eyebrow, slightly puzzled. "Is this part of the interview?"
Regina's expression turned serious. "This is why I called you here, Jax. Please, sit down."
He nodded, lowering himself into a plush black leather chair before her mahogany desk, adorned with artwork and her computer.
Once he was seated, Regina's tone grew Serious. "Jax, I'm afraid the promotion to manager isn't going to happen."
His eyes widened in disbelief. "Please tell me you're joking."
Regina shook her head in response. "I'm afraid not, Jax. The higher-ups have already made their decision, and they've selected the new managers."
Jax lowered his head, feeling disappointed because he had thought this would be his big breakthrough. When he looked up again, he sighed heavily. "But why? I've worked so hard for this promotion. I've consistently delivered results and taken on extra responsibilities to prove myself to this company.″
Regina leaned back in her chair and folded her arms as she stared at him. "Look, Jax, everyone knows how hard you've worked. Your dedication hasn't gone unnoticed. But management promotions aren't just about hard work. The higher-ups felt you lacked the necessary charisma to be a manager.″
She paused, her eyes drifting to his outfit—a plain navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt and a red tie. Noticing her gaze, Jax looked down at himself. He had thought he looked professional, but now he wondered if his lack of flair had counted against him.
"Don't worry, Jax," Regina continued. "You'll get another chance next year. Keep working hard and developing your skills. I'm sure—"
Jax suddenly slammed his hands on the desk, cutting her off. His face contorted in anger. "Years, Regina! You've been saying the same thing for years! Just keep working hard, Jax, and you'll get the chance! I've done everything you've asked, but it never comes! People who don't have my qualifications have already been promoted. Those who started after me are senior managers, and I'm still stuck at the bottom!"
"Listen, Jax," Regina tried to interject, but he interrupted again.
"I'm tired, Regina. I'm tired of trying and getting nowhere. I'm tired of being lied to!" Jax ran a hand through his messy curls, pulled out his ID card, and slammed it onto the desk. "I quit!"
Regina's eyes widened in shock. "Jax, are you sure this is the right decision? Don't act rashly. Think about it—"
"I've thought about it, Regina, and I'm done!" he snapped, turning on his heel and storming out of her office.
Ignoring Regina's calls to stop, Jax approached his desk. Ariana tried to speak to him, but he brushed past her, heading straight to the elevator. He clenched his fists tightly as two colleagues joined the elevator and discussed the promotion.
"Alex got promoted, and he's only been here six months," one said.
"He's lucky," the other replied.
Jax's jaw tightened at the mention of Alex—a newcomer who had already surpassed him. Anger boiled within him, and he sighed loudly.
The two colleagues exchanged nervous glances, likely recognizing Jax, and stopped talking.
When the elevator stopped, Jax rushed out, ignoring the security guard who yelled his name at the entrance. He walked towards his car parked in the garage, and as he slid into the driver's seat, he let out a scream as he hit the steering wheel with his fists over and over again, tears streaming down his face.