Hawk was panicking.
Even though he was in a bright, spacious office, he couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. It was as if a cold wind was creeping up from under his feet, and he felt like some malevolent spirit was coming to claim his life, making him instinctively hunch his shoulders.
He was holding a thin piece of paper in his hand, showing the sales figures from the past three days. It should have been good news, but his expression looked like he'd just eaten a mouthful of something foul.
The numbers were shocking. Sales had plummeted by 40% compared to the previous issue.
What did that mean? It was as if thousands of car accidents had happened in New York, perfectly targeting all the men who would have bought the magazine.
"FXXK! FXXK!" Hawk cursed loudly, his chest heaving before he slumped back into his thick office chair like a pile of mud.
His heart was racing, and he saw stars. He even felt like he might end up in the hospital at any moment.
How was this possible? He scratched his head, unable to figure out what had gone wrong. Could it be that people no longer liked Lisa?
How could that be?
"Ring ring!" The phone on his desk rang, and Hawk picked it up, hearing his subordinate's anxious voice on the other end.
"Chief! We've been getting a lot of calls from readers, and they're all complaining about how much the quality of the magazine has dropped."
"Wait, wait, what exactly are they saying?" Hawk adjusted his crooked baseball cap and asked.
"They're saying the photos are... well, awful. They say it doesn't have the same feel as the last issue."
"Some said our taste is terrible, and that Lisa and her outfit don't match at all."
"Others even asked if we'd changed photographers, because the style is completely different."
"On top of that, they're saying Lisa didn't look good, like she'd overindulged in something, and her expression was awful."
"Alright, enough!" Hawk's fragile heart couldn't take any more criticism, so he stopped his subordinate. "Okay, I get it. Don't worry. Tell them we'll fix everything in the next issue!"
After hanging up, Hawk let out a sigh of relief, only for a large, burly man to barge into his office.
"Hawk! Look at the mess you've made!"
"Boss!" Hawk immediately stood up, only to be hit by a barrage of curses.
In the span of ten minutes, he endured no fewer than twenty "FXXKs," fifteen "SHXT," and thirty-six "GOD."
By the time he left the office, he was still dazed.
The cold wind jolted him awake, and he remembered he had to visit Ethan
"Damn it! Why do I have to convince him to come back?" Hawk grumbled, but his feet moved faster, knowing his career depended on getting Ethan back as a photographer.
He sped down the road, turning a 40-minute drive into just 25, arriving at Donder's front door.
Seeing the lights on in the window, Hawk took a deep breath, walked up the steps, and rang the doorbell.
"Ding dong!"
"Who is it?" Ethan, who had been chatting with his agent Mike, heard the bell and was puzzled. He checked the time—it was already 6 p.m. Had Carmella returned with the kids from the park?
He opened the door, only to find Hawk, the editor-in-chief of *New York Underground Art*, standing there.
"What are you doing here?"
Hawk barged in, offering an awkward smile as he walked into the living room. "I... just wanted to check on you."
"Check on me?" Ethan frowned.
"Uh, yeah. Hey there. I'm Hawk, editor of *New York Underground Art*."
Hawk only then noticed another guest in the room—a serious-looking man in a suit. He quickly greeted him.
Out of politeness, Mike responded, "Hello, I'm Mike, Ethan's agent."
"Agent? What agent? A photographer's agent? Haha, good one," Hawk laughed, but then his expression turned serious as he looked from Ethan to Mike.
"Wait a minute, you really are his agent?" he asked, confused.
Ethan shrugged. "Of course. No doubt about it."
Mike added, "Yes, Ethan signed with CAA. He's going to direct the music video for Kelly Rowland's new song."
"Alright, Kelly Rowland. Who's that? Some third-rate singer? Since when does CAA handle stuff like that? I guess if I ever feel like making music, I can hire you guys too." Hawk joked, trying to lighten the mood.
But neither Ethan nor Mike laughed.
"Uh, if you need those services, we can arrange that. As long as you pay the package fee. Trust me, CAA's package deals are worth every penny."
Mike couldn't resist correcting Hawk. "And by the way, Kelly Rowland isn't some third-rate singer. She's part of Destiny's Child."
Hawk froze. Of course, he knew Destiny's Child. He was a fan—well, at least enough of a fan to buy their albums. He knew how big their influence was in the U.S.
So, Ethan was directing a music video for Destiny's Child?
How was that even possible?
Hawk's brain stalled for a moment. He looked at Ethan and Mike again and saw they weren't joking.
"Do you still have time to shoot, uh, I mean, are you available to work on the magazine?"
Ethan shook his head as he peeled an orange. "Sorry, Hawk. I don't have any time for magazine shoots now, like I said before I left."
"Alright, then." Hawk snapped out of his shock and mechanically turned toward the door. As he was about to leave, he paused and asked, "Ethan, do you think you'll ever attend the Grammys?"
Ethan laughed. "Who knows? If I do, I'll let you know so you can see me on TV."
"Great. Be sure to let me know."
Hawk forced a smile, then opened the door and walked out.
After he left, Mike wondered aloud, "What was that all about?"
"Not sure. Maybe he came to try and convince me to go back? But he seemed pretty distracted."
"Never mind. Let's get back to planning for the shoot. The music video director is Tony…"
Meanwhile, outside, Hawk was still eavesdropping. When he heard the details of the music video shoot, he finally realized this wasn't some crazy fantasy. Ethan had really moved on to bigger things.
Hawk wandered down the steps in a daze, only to get a call from Lisa.
"What do we do? Keep shooting. Don't worry, next issue will be better."
"What? My fault? You're the one who accused Ethan of verbally abusing you!"
"Bad shoot? If you'd lifted your damn butt higher, we wouldn't be getting so many complaints! And what about your expression? A total mess! Awkward and stiff!"
"I'm losing my job here! I don't care about your problems!"
"Get Ethan back? Get lost! He's directing a music video for Destiny's Child! Who do you think you are? FXXK YOU!"
.....
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