Chapter 2Daddy, Gone Viral

I never thought Aaron Brown would accept an offer from our network.

Traditional media had been on the decline for years, and Dad for a Day was the only show our station had that was still worth anything. But last year, the director had gotten a taste for controversy. The show became a cycle of malicious editing and deliberately casting difficult children to create viral clips of celebrities having meltdowns.

The backlash was so severe that the show was temporarily canceled.

Aaron had just won a prestigious acting award for his latest film. He was the hottest star in the industry. The production team had sent him an offer as a long shot, never dreaming he would actually say yes.

After endless pleading from the director, I finally relented and agreed to let Finn be a backup guest. Besides, he could barely talk yet. Even if he did run into Aaron, it wouldn’t be a big deal.

More importantly, the one running into him right now was me.

I stood in Aaron Brown’s private dressing room, my head bowed, staring at the floor. I’d been roped in at the last minute to do his makeup.

“Your assistant said you were bringing your own makeup artist, so the station didn’t assign anyone…”

“Aren’t you someone?”

Aaron’s deep, velvety voice washed over me from above.

“Leah. Raines.”

He read the name on my staff ID, a name that was both familiar and strange on his lips, and let out a cold, humorless laugh. A wave of guilt sent a tingling numbness across my face.

“I… I don’t know how to do makeup for men.”

It was a lie, of course. Aaron’s face was so perfectly sculpted that he could have gone on camera without a drop of makeup and still looked flawless.

“Haha, Leah’s just being modest! She’s the best makeup artist at our station!” the director chimed in, pulling me aside. He lowered his voice. “I’ve already hyped you up. You know what to do.”

He leaned in closer. “There’s only one Aaron Brown, but the station can hire a new makeup artist anytime. And there aren’t many places that will let you bring your kid to work, are there?”

I had no choice but to bite the bullet.

Aaron’s skin was pale, and it took me a while to find the right shade of foundation. Just as I was about to start, his assistant stopped me with a frown.

“Is that a used makeup brush?”

I was a staff makeup artist. Of course, my tools were shared.

“Aaron is allergic to other people’s… residual skin cells. Didn’t you do your research?”

“…”

“They’ve all been sanitized,” I mumbled. “And his allergic reaction isn’t that severe. It’s usually just a little sensitive around his lips.”

She reacted like a cat whose tail had just been stepped on.

“Can you take responsibility for that statement? If something happens to Aaron’s face, do you know how many projects it will affect? Can a little makeup artist like you afford to pay for that?”

The live broadcast was about to start; the director was already counting down the seconds. I glanced at my personal makeup bag next to my suitcase and sighed.

“This is all I have on hand… unless you want me to use my personal kit.”

“Then use yours.”

I froze.

Aaron glanced at me, his tone strictly professional. “There’s no other choice, is there?”

The director, terrified of being held responsible, scurried over. “Leah rarely wears makeup, but she must have used her tools a few times, right? Isn’t there still a risk of an allergic reaction?”

“It’s fine,” Aaron said, his voice casual. “I’ve built up a tolerance.”

His words landed like a torpedo in the small backstage room.

Every single pair of eyes swiveled to look at me.

My heart hammered against my ribs, threatening to leap out of my throat. Terrified of being assassinated by his fans at the station, I stammered, “We… we’re not a thing…”

The air hung thick and still for a second.

Then, Aaron’s expression turned icy.

“I meant, I took my allergy medication.”

Someone in the room snickered.

“Leah, who asked you? As if Aaron Brown would ever look twice at you!”