Mr. Production Manager

The act of reasserting her own perception offered a semblance of empowerment in the face of Darren's judgment.

"It's so unfortunate I have to work with him too," she murmured, the resignation in her tone underscoring the challenges ahead.

The thought of having to endure his presence at work added a layer of frustration, Kiara sighed with the weight of the situation settling on her shoulders.

As she continued to gaze at her reflection, a mix of determination and resilience flickered in her eyes—a silent promise to herself that she wouldn't let Darren's words define her.

_ _

The next morning at the Hernandez residence, the dining exuded a cozy ambiance, adorned with an array of mouthwatering dishes that reflected the refined taste of the renowned Hernandez family.

Darren, impeccably dressed for work, found himself at the heart of his bustling morning.

Darren's mother, a beacon of hospitality, playfully teased him as she urged him to join them for breakfast.

"You're all set for work, but why not indulge in a moment with us before dashing out?" she suggested, artfully arranging the table, assisted by the chef workers.

"I'm running late, Mom," Darren replied, sensing the ticking clock.

"I'll grab something at work."

Undeterred, she persisted, "No, son, you must eat. Your dad won't say no this time." She turned her playful gaze towards Mr. Hernandez, anticipating his response.

Mr. Hernandez, a discerning figure, not really touched by Mrs Hernandez words, took a bite and remarked,

"Looks like you're really working hard to be a part of my business. I like that."

Despite the mounting pressure, Darren excused himself, hastily grabbing his bags.

As he left, the atmosphere lightened, and his mother, adopting a playful tone, teased, "Your son is truly stepping up, proving to be quite responsible."

Mrs. Hernandez, seized the moment, attempted to influence her husband's decision regarding Darren's placement in an upcoming company.

"He's showing maturity; why not spare him the stress of that current job?" she playfully urged, injecting a lighthearted touch into the conversation.

The room adorned with mahogany furniture, Mr. Hernandez leaned back in his chair, a faint trace of concern etched on his face, the air pregnant with the weight of responsibility.

"I told you," Mr. Hernandez's voice resonated, carrying a blend of paternal pride and a tinge of apprehension.

"There are things I want him to grasp before he can shoulder the mantle of my business.

He needs to understand how to elevate my company to its zenith, Let him embark on this venture, and let's witness how adeptly he navigates these uncharted waters."

As he spoke, Mr. Hernandez couldn't shake the realization of how swiftly his son had matured.

The prospect of entrusting the company's signatories to him loomed large, yet doubts crept in – a concern that his pampered upbringing might prove a hindrance rather than an asset.

—--

Darren, taken just some minutes past the house, brought the chauffeur-driven car to an abrupt halt, signaling an unexpected change in his mundane routine.

"Stop me here," he commanded, his eyes reflecting a subtle defiance.

"I can continue from here," Darren asserted, cutting off the driver's potential objections. The driver hesitated, attempting to convey his concerns,

"But.."

Darren interrupted, "But what? I can handle it from here.

Just make sure to inform my father that you dropped me off."

Whenever his father is present, he insists that a driver accompany Darren, and doesn't allow Darren to drive solo.

The only exception is when Darren is with his mother, and his father is away, then he's allowed to drive by himself.

"Okay, sir," the driver acquiesced with a respectful nod before quietly departing.

Darren, with the opportunity, seized the car keys and veered away from the familiar route to his home, opting instead for a detour to Kyle's apartment before reaching for work.

As he navigated through the city streets, Darren grappled with conflicting thoughts.

"Did my father really expect me to take that job seriously?I'm just playing the part, hoping for a pardon."

"Working with these people feels like a sentence," he mused, frustration simmering beneath the surface.

Upon reaching Kyle's apartment, Darren, accustomed to unhindered entry, punched in the familiar door code.

The door swung open, revealing Kyle, who had been roused by the unmistakable sound.

"Why are you here?" Kyle inquired, his tone a mix of curiosity and reproach, as Darren casually poured himself a glass of wine.

"Aren't you supposed to be at the job your dad assigned you?"

Darren responded with a smirk,

"Did you really think I'd take that job seriously? I can't stand working with those people; they don't meet my standards.

And, to top it off, the lady we met at the mall works there too. I have to deal with her on a daily basis."

Kyle cut in, "Hold up! She works there?'

"Yeah she does," Darren said nonchalantly.

Kyle, a hint of disapproval in his expression, countered, "Hey! Then don't speak ill of her."

"Oh, great," Darren quipped sarcastically, "So, I'm the one stuck working alongside her. How about we switch positions?"

Kyle chuckled, "You better know what's ahead of you and fulfill your responsibilities. It's time to make your way to the office, whether you like it or not."

Shadows danced across the walls as the weight of Darren's worries hung in the air.

"Pff, I thought I was pouring out my worries to you," he sighed, frustration etching his features. Unmoved, the room seemed to absorb his concerns.

With a resigned air, he swiftly emptied the remaining crimson liquid from his glass, the wine offering no solace.

"It made no difference," he muttered, the bitterness lingering on his lips as the glass met the table with a soft clink.

As he prepared to face the day, a sense of defeat loomed.

"I'm off to work, since I couldn't get any better advice from you," Darren remarked, his tone a mix of disappointment and acceptance.

The room remained silent, offering no consolation.

"Bye," Mr. Production Manager Kyle chimed in, a playful teasing in his farewell.

The words hung in the air, a reminder of the workplace banter that failed to alleviate Darren's troubles.

Without a backward glance, Darren hurriedly left for his car, the engine roaring to life as he drove away.

—-

Nolan, with a stack of carefully organized call sheets, approached Kiara in the bustling production office.

"These are the call sheets, Miss Kiara," he said, extending the neatly printed schedules for the casts and crews.

Kiara, engrossed in her tasks, looked up and accepted the sheets.

He gazed at Kiara for a while, his mind raising with questions of where such beauty emanated from before continuing,

"You're to confirm attendance and ensure contact information is up to date." He informed.

"Thank you," Kiara replied with a warm smile carrying professionality as her attention quickly shifted back to the computer screen, updating the system, leaving Nolan to go back to his workspace.

Amidst the organized chaos of the production office, Kayla rushed in to her seat, she couldn't contain her excitement.

"He's here! Is my makeup okay, or my hair?" she anxiously asked Kiara, who was deeply engrossed in her work.

Kiara, still focused on the system, inquired,

"Who's here?"