Inside Mo Yue's Private Studio
"Hello," Mo Yue greeted casually, eyes scanning the young man who had just walked in.
"Hello," Andre responded politely.
Mo Yue studied the boy in front of him—the supposed assistant recommended by Mrs. Shen, who was rumored to be connected to Zhen Yichen himself. His sharp phoenix eyes narrowed in scrutiny.
He's too attractive to be just an assistant. Mo Yue's thoughts lingered. That face could easily belong to a teen idol—soft features, yet paired with a toned, masculine build. Are they sure they didn't accidentally send me a rising star?
"So, you're the new assistant Mrs. Shen sent?" Mo Yue asked.
"Yes."
So cold, Mo Yue scoffed inwardly. What's with the attitude? You haven't even been approved yet.
"What's your name?"
"Andre."
Hm. Not a local name, Mo Yue noted.
"Well, Andre, I heard you requested to be an assistant. Why not pursue a career as a star?"
"…"
The silence hung heavy.
Mo Yue stared, annoyed. What's this guy's problem? He's just an 18-year-old kid and already acting like he owns the room. Did he really choose this job on his own?
Guo Ming, sensing Mo Yue's temper rising, quickly stepped in to defuse the situation before things escalated. The last thing they needed was to lose yet another assistant—especially one that reportedly came from the CEO himself. Even as an A-list star, Mo Yue was still beneath the authority of HYU's president, and offending the headquarters wouldn't end well.
"Ahem," Guo Ming cleared his throat.
Andre finally realized the pause wasn't part of the conversation—it was his turn to speak.
"I hate fame," he said, straightforwardly.
"Oh? And you're sure of that?"
"I just… hate it."
Mo Yue tilted his head, eyes sharp. "Do you know who I am?"
"Yes."
"Oh? So you're a fan?"
"No. I just know you."
Another silence. Tense. Electric.
Mr. Ye, Mrs. Shen's assistant, decided to intervene. "Mr. Mo, do you think he's suitable to be your assistant?"
Mo Yue's lips curled slightly in amusement. He's bold. No fake pleasantries, no bowing down. That's new. His eyes raked over Andre, taking in the youthful face, the silver-glass eyes that seemed too pure, too out-of-place in this industry. Could he be… related to Zhen Yichen? A step-son maybe? Rumor had it Yichen married a foreigner overseas. This kid definitely didn't look Asian, but damn…
Hot. Mo Yue swallowed his thoughts. Too bad he's so young. If he were just a little older…
"Well," he said aloud, "he passes. He can start working today."
Andre, unfazed by the stares or awkward tension, remained quiet—but internally, his stomach grumbled. He hadn't eaten anything since the incident at breakfast.
Should've grabbed something, even if it meant sitting with that man, he thought bitterly.
Just then, Mr. Ye stepped forward again. "Apologies, Mr. Mo, but the president would like to see Andre after this meeting."
"What?" Mo Yue blinked. "Zhen Yichen wants to see him?"
Why? Why would that man want to see me? Andre panicked internally. What now?!
"Well then," Mo Yue said, recovering quickly, "make sure you're back here by 8 tomorrow. We've got an interview with Starling Media, and I won't tolerate tardiness."
"…"
"And my manager will text you the rules and preferences. Things to note when working with me."
"Okay."
"Good. Looking forward to working with you."
"Hm."
With that, Mo Yue walked out with his manager, Guo Ming, his attention fixed on his phone. His expression darkened—clearly, something he saw there had pissed him off.
"Let's go, Mr. Andre," said Mr. Ye, motioning toward the door.