CHAPTER ONE – PARTY AT THE MANSION

The loud music thumped in Madison's chest, contrasting with the emptiness in her stomach. Mr. White's mansion sparkled with fairy lights and fake smiles, a stark difference from the latest tension brewing between her and Veronica, her step-sister earlier that day. Glancing at her phone, there were no messages from Johnny, her always-busy fiancé. This party, arranged by Bella, her best friend and agent, was meant to be her chance – a chance to relax, a chance to be noticed. "Whiskey, please," Madison whispered to a passing waiter, finding comfort in the clinking ice cubes. "Hey there!" A voice, with fake enthusiasm, interrupted her thoughts. It was Olivia Moore, another actress known for snatching Madison's roles. "Olivia," Madison smiled, masking her irritation. "Nice to see you." "Working on anything exciting?" Olivia asked, her eyes hiding jealousy. "Actually, yes," Madison lied smoothly, downing a shot of whiskey. "A new indie project." It wasn't exactly a lie, just a project she hadn't officially been cast in yet. "Indie. Quirky. Must be fulfilling," Olivia sneered. Madison excused herself, feeling a sour taste in her mouth. Navigating through the crowded room, she felt familiar exhaustion. This industry, once her dream, now felt like a trap. The phone call with Veronica earlier echoed in her mind – Veronica criticizing Madison's "reckless career choices." Johnny, her lawyer fiancé, was always too busy to listen. Just when she felt overwhelmed, a voice broke through the noise. "Hello, beautiful." Mr. White, the studio boss, stood before her. At first, Madison felt hope, then she remembered the rumours about Mr. White and his inappropriate behaviour. "Mr. White," Madison forced a smile. "Nice to see you." "Enjoying the party?" Mr. White's hand brushed hers, sending a chill down her spine. "It's nice," Madison replied, pulling away subtly. "The food looks great." Mr. White chuckled, a cold sound. "Want to see the rest of the house? A more private spot, maybe?" "Actually," Madison interrupted, faking cheerfulness, "I see Bella over there. I’ve got to catch up with my agent, you know, the backbone of any actress!" As Mr. White's advances became increasingly unwelcome, Bella appeared just in time to rescue Madison. With a confident stride, Bella approached them, her expression a mix of professionalism and concern. "Madison, there you are!" she exclaimed, inserting herself into the conversation. "I've been looking all over for you. We need to discuss that potential script." Madison seized the opportunity, nodding gratefully at Bella's intervention. "Of course, Bella," she said with a hint of relief, "lead the way." Bella shot a pointed look at Mr. White, her demeanour firm yet polite. "Mr. White, if you'll excuse us," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. With a curt nod, Mr. White backed off, begrudgingly acknowledging Bella's authority in the matter. As the night went on, the drinks blurred her senses. Exhaustion turned into recklessness. She laughed too loud, danced too freely, her worries fading with each sip. Suddenly, Mr. White reappeared, guiding her to a secluded corner. "Need some air?" he murmured, his voice husky. Before she could react, his lips were on hers, forceful and wet. Panic rose in her throat. She tried to pull away, but he held her tight. "Don't you want this, Madison?" His voice was menacing. Nausea hit her. This wasn't what she wanted. This wasn't her chance. Just as despair consumed her, a voice broke through the darkness. "Hey! Leave her alone!" A figure emerged from the shadows, his voice full of anger. Mr. White backed off, his sneer replaced by irritation. "Who are you?" he snapped. "Someone who won't stand for you harassing a lady," the newcomer declared. Mr. White puffed up, but doubt flickered in his eyes. "This isn't your business," he muttered. "It is my business," the stranger insisted, his eyes firm. "She seems... not well." He glanced at Madison, who leaned on the railing for support. Mr. White scoffed. "She's fine. We were just enjoying the view." "Sure," the stranger replied sarcastically. "Because that's what people do on balconies – grope each other in the moonlight." Madison, feeling dizzy, watched the exchange through blurry eyes. She felt a sliver of gratitude amid her intoxication. Mr. White, visibly shaken, fixed his tie and mumbled something about a "misunderstanding." He shot a glare at the stranger before leaving. Silence returned, broken only by crickets. The stranger turned to Madison, his face hidden in the shadows. "Are you okay?" His voice was gentle, contrasting Mr. White's aggression. "I think so," Madison mumbled, her voice thick. "Thanks to you." He stepped closer, his features becoming clearer. He was handsome, with a strong jaw line and kind eyes. "No problem," he said, offering a reassuring smile. "I couldn't ignore someone in trouble." Madison swayed, feeling dizzy. Exhaustion, alcohol, and the near-incident overwhelmed her. Sensing her distress, the stranger offered his arm. "Let me get you some water." He guided her inside, avoiding the oblivious crowd. Bella was nowhere to be seen. The stranger found a quiet spot and helped Madison sit. "Water?" he asked, already fetching a glass. Madison took it gratefully, sipping the cool liquid. As her head cleared, she focused on her rescuer. "I... I don't even know your name," she said softly. He chuckled. "Ethan. And you?" "Madison," she replied, smiling shyly. They sat in silence, Ethan providing comforting company. He didn't pry about the balcony incident. "You seem out of place here," Ethan remarked eventually. Madison snorted. "Understatement. Hollywood... it's exhausting." Ethan raised an eyebrow. "An actress, huh? What roles do you want?" "Something meaningful," Madison sighed. "Not just another cliché." Ethan studied her. "Maybe someday," he said, a hint of optimism in his voice. Ethan's words lingered in the air, a silent invitation. She scanned the room – Bella was still engrossed in conversation with a director. This was her opportunity, a daring departure from the carefully planned life she led. "Maybe we can talk more about those meaningful stories over a drink," Madison proposed, her voice barely audible over the party's noise. Ethan's grin widened, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Lead the way," he agreed, extending his arm. They slipped away from the crowd, finding a quiet spot in the moonlit garden. The scent of jasmine hung in the air, a refreshing change from the heavy perfume inside the mansion. Ethan pulled out a chair for her, a surprisingly chivalrous gesture in the midst of Hollywood glamour. As they sat facing each other, their knees brushed, sending a thrill through Madison. She met his gaze, finding a new depth in his eyes. "So," he began softly, "tell me about these roles you dream of." For the next hour, they lost themselves in conversation. Madison spoke passionately about the characters she envisioned, the stories that burned within her. Ethan listened intently, his questions showing genuine interest. He saw beyond the actress, recognizing the artist beneath. Suddenly, a playful spark lit up Ethan's eyes. "You know," he murmured, "there's a fantastic bar nearby. They make the best cocktails." Madison's pulse quickened. It wasn't just a drink offer; it was an adventure, a challenge to the boundaries of her life. The fatigue of the night faded, replaced by a thrilling excitement. "Sounds like fun," she replied, a grin tugging at her lips. Ethan's smile deepened. "Adventure it is, then." He helped her up, his touch lingering on her hand. As they left the party behind, Madison felt liberated from the weight of expectations. Tonight, she wasn't here to impress or to be pursued. She was simply Madison, seizing the opportunity for spontaneity that Ethan offered. Stepping into the crisp night air, she knew this was a chance for something different. No strings attached, just the freedom to enjoy her evening with Ethan by her side.