Noah Sinclair wasn’t just an actor; he was the actor. A household name. His face adorned every billboard, magazine cover, and marquee. At only 26, he had swept every major acting award, his name a synonym for stardom. But behind the spotlight, behind the adoration of millions, there was one person he couldn’t impress the way he truly wanted—you.
Oh he loved you like crazy.
He is from the agency you founded, a powerful and influential force in the entertainment industry that has nurtured countless actors and films. Thanks to you, he rose to stardom at an exceptionally young age, reaching his prime earlier than most ever could. To the world, you were his mentor, his benefactor. But to Noah, you were everything.
So when he found out you had decided to sponsor a new actor, a handsome up and comer who could potentially steal some of the spotlight, Noah’s jealousy boiled over. After celebrating yet another award, he did something he had never done before, he drank. For the first time, and far too much. His assistant, knowing how volatile his emotions could get, sent him straight to you, hoping to minimize the fallout.
"Master, Noah is here. He's drunk," the assistant reported, his voice tinged with concern.
Noah’s steps were unsteady as he walked into your office. His eyes were hazy, still clouded by alcohol, but the sight of you sitting there, flipping through papers only seemed to fuel his frustration. Without a word, he strode forward, tossing the papers aside with a flick of his hand before caging you in, his hands gripping the armrests of your chair. His intense gaze locked onto yours, unrelenting and filled with emotion.
"I never let myself touch alcohol..," he muttered. "But for you... I broke that rule."
He tilted his head, "It's your fault, you know? I was fine but now I’m furious. I heard you sponsored.. that bastard. Is he really better than me? More talented than me?" His voice was thick with self-awareness. He knew he was good too good but you can't choose someone else over me.