Chapter Text
Hong Kong, 2017
The message had been simple, almost casual—"Dinner. 8 PM. My private lounge. – L"—but Raymond Lam had read it three times before exhaling sharply through his nose.
He knew this was coming.
His contract with his previous agency EEG had expired two weeks ago, and whispers had already begun circulating in the industry—Louis Koo’s company is looking for fresh talent. He’s expanding. He wants to invest in the next generation.
And Raymond? Raymond was ready to be invested in.
He arrived exactly five minutes early, because Louis valued punctuality but hated eagerness. The lounge was dimly lit, all dark wood and leather, the kind of place where deals were made in murmurs and handshakes. Louis was already there, nursing a glass of whiskey, his tailored suit cutting a sharp silhouette against the city lights through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Raymond had known him for years-first as a young actor awed by the seasoned star, then as friends, and now—
Now, he wants me to work for him.
"Raymond," Louis greeted, a hint of amusement curling the edges of his voice. "Sit."
Raymond obeyed, sliding into the seat opposite him with practiced ease. He kept his posture relaxed but attentive, his fingers loosely curled around the glass of water the waiter had set before him.
"You look well," Louis remarked, eyes scanning him in that assessing way he had—like he was measuring Raymond’s worth down to the millimeter.
"Trying to stay in shape for whatever comes next," Raymond replied, letting his lips quirk just slightly.
Louis hummed, swirling his drink. "And what does come next?"
Ah. The opening.
Raymond tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness. "That depends on who’s asking."
Louis’ mouth twitched. "I’m asking."
Raymond let the silence stretch for a beat—just long enough to make Louis lean in—before he answered. "Then I suppose I’m open to suggestions."
Louis chuckled, but there was a sharpness in it. "You’d rather stay a TV star forever?"
The question was a blade wrapped in silk.
Raymond had spent years building his brand as the charming leading man, the singer with the million-dollar smile. But films? Real, prestigious films? That had always been out of reach—until now.
He leaned forward slightly, just enough to seem engaged but not desperate. "Of course not. But film is… different. I wouldn’t want to just jump into anything."
Liar.
Louis’ eyes flickered with something—interest? Annoyance?—before he set his glass down with deliberate care.
"What if," he said, "it wasn’t just anything?"
Raymond waited.
"I’m offering you a contract with One Cool," Louis continued, tone even. "My personal guidance. Leading roles. No more soap operas."
Raymond listened, nodding at the right moments, his fingers tracing the rim of his glass. When Louis finished, he let his gaze drop for a moment, as if overwhelmed, before lifting his eyes again—just enough to let the light catch them.
"It’s an honor," he said softly. "I’ve always admired your work. Both in front of and behind the camera."
Louis’ expression didn’t change, but Raymond saw the flicker in his eyes—the quiet pleasure of being recognized not just as a star, but as a force.
"Then we’re in agreement?" Louis asked.
Raymond tilted his head, as if considering. But the truth was, he had already decided the moment Louis called. This was an opportunity—no, a chance—he had been waiting for.
Still, he couldn’t seem too eager.
"Are you sure?" Raymond asked, feigning hesitation. "I know the industry's changing. And I wouldn't want to be… a burden."
Louis exhaled a soft laugh. "You? A burden?" His gaze was assessing, lingering just a second too long on Raymond's face.
"You've always had potential. I saw it when you were twenty."
Raymond remembered that first collaboration-the way Louis had watched him onset, his quiet nods of approval. Back then, he had been too green to understand the weight of that attention.
Now, he knew exactly how to wield it.
"You mentioned…your personal guidance?" He let his voice soften slightly, the faintest hint of vulnerability slipping through.
Something in Louis' posture tightened. "If that’s what you need."
Raymond exhaled, as if weighing the offer. Then, just as Louis’ patience might have thinned, he smiled—small, sincere.
"I’d want nothing less, Sir ."
The honorific slipped out like an accident.
Louis’ fingers stilled on the stem of his glass. But eventually his mouth curved into a satisfied smirl. He raised his glass. "To new beginnings."
Raymond clinked his water against it, knowing full well this wasn’t just about work.
It was a hunt.
And Louis had just invited the predator to his table.
The humid night air clung to Raymond's skin as he waited for his car.
"Need a lift?"
The voice—low, assured—made him turn. Louis stood just steps away, hands tucked into his pockets, looking every inch the untouchable mogul.
Raymond hesitated—just enough to seem flustered. "I wouldn't want to trouble you."
Louis smirked. "It's no trouble."
The moment stretched. Raymond let himself bite his lower lip, just slightly, before nodding.
As he slid into Louis' car, he caught the older man's gaze in the rearview mirror.
Step one: complete.