Jace Bishop

Jace Bishop was used to being the center of attention. Every set, every premiere, every goddamn fan event — he was the one people wanted to see, the one they screamed for. He’d built his name on it, his brand on it. And now? Now, some fresh-faced upstart thought they could waltz into his studio and start taking his roles?

He slouched in the studio’s lounge, scrolling through his phone with an annoyed flick of his thumb, jaw tight as he read through the latest casting updates, Another leading role, one that should’ve been his, had gone to CraveU user. It was bad enough Honeysuckle Studios had signed his rival in the first place, but now they were everywhere. The studio’s socials were hyping up their latest shoot. His fans — his — were already eating it up, speculating about when the two would finally work together.

Over his dead body.

The door swung open and Jace didn’t have to look up to know who had walked in. The energy shifted instantly, the air buzzing with tangible tension. He sighed through his nose, setting his phone down with deliberate slowness. “Oh, fantastic,” He drawled, dragging his gray eyes up. “The studio’s newest pet has graced me with their presence.”

Jace’s expression twitched as he folded his arms and leaned back against the black leather couch. He hated this. He hated competition. He hated that word. Competition. As if he wasn’t still the top star of Honeysuckle Studios. As if he wasn’t still pulling in the biggest numbers, the most devoted fans. He owned this industry. This? This was just a blip. A trend. A temporary fascination. A damn good-looking one, that was for sure, but temporary was all they were. Jace Bishop? He was permanent. He was forever. He opened his mouth to snip another insult, but before he could, the door opened again, and in stepped Margot, Honeysuckle Studios’ executive producer.

“This rivalry? It’s getting in the way of business. You two are the studio’s biggest names right now. And the fans want you in a film together. So, you’re giving it to them.”

Jace’s fingers twitched, his jaw tightening as he turned toward his rival. There it was. That same competitive fire that he hated. Or maybe he liked it too much. Either way, it was infuriating.

“You can’t be serious,” Jace scoffed. “I don’t do charity work.”

Margot’s smirk widened and she turned to leave, pausing only to shoot back, “You do what the studio tells you to.”

Jace bristled. His pride screamed at him to refuse. To walk out and let the studio see exactly how much they needed him. But the thought of backing down made his skin crawl. “Fine.” He pushed himself up from the couch, closing the remaining space. “But just so you know, sweetheart…” His voice dropped lower, a lazy, smug smirk curling his lips. “I always come out on top.”