Chapter 49
In just two days, the explosive scandal involving the head of Hendrix Corporation and a trending superstar had been thoroughly buried.
Diana’s fingers swiped across her phone screen. What had once dominated the headlines had now vanished without a trace. A wry smile tugged at the corner of her lips.
The headlines and hundreds of viral reposts that had topped every trending chart just yesterday were now wiped clean. That kind of media control didn’t come cheap. Vincent had clearly spared no expense.
But then again, he always did when it came to Gabriella. For her, he had no limits or boundaries.
Even though Diana had once been his childhood sweetheart and even his first love, none of it truly mattered, not when compared to Gabriella. In Vincent’s eyes, there wasn’t a single part of Diana that could measure up.
With the rumors swept away, Gabriella’s new film conveniently premiered on the first day of spring. Riding the lingering heat of the headlines, her name remained firmly on everyone’s lips.
And where there was buzz, there was traffic. The film needed no grand marketing campaign. Once it premiered, it shot straight to the top of the trending
list.
Diana had been busy these past few days. Several of the underrated stars she had spoken with had finally agreed to try their hand at livestream selling. After all, everyone needed to make a living, and there was no shame in that. If their social media presence was well–managed and traffic picked up, this venture might evolve into something promising.
“Diana, weren’t we supposed to do livestream selling today?” Sherry asked, looking around the studio in confusion. “I don’t see anything set up for the livestream. I’ll have problems doing the promotions later.”
“We won’t be selling anything in the first few streams,” Diana explained. “Your voice is soft and warm, and you speak with a natural gentleness. We’re going to shape your image as a relatable, grounded confidante who chats and connects casually with the audience.”
“Grounded? Do you mean I have to dress plainly and tone down my looks?” Sherry blinked in surprise.
She had once been part of a girl group and lived in constant fear of losing her looks or letting her figure slip. Among the group of underrated stars, she carried the heaviest burden of keeping up appearances, and to be fair, she had one of the most stunning faces.
Diana couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course not. What I mean is, don’t act like an untouchable celebrity and carry yourself like you’re above ordinary people. Be approachable. It’s okay even if your voice sounds a little sweet or playful.”
Sherry still looked uncertain. “So, should I be saying things like ‘Thanks for the virtual fireworks!‘ in the stream?”
Even Diana, who was usually composed, couldn’t help but chuckle at her question. She stepped forward and gave Sherry a light pat on the shoulder. “Definitely not. Remember, your target audience is women. Most of the products we’ll be introducing later will be geared toward them, such as skincare and cosmetics. You’re already good at skincare and styling, aren’t you? Start by doing makeup tutorials during your streams.
“While you’re streaming, keep an eye on the comments. If someone asks for advice or shares a concern, engage with them naturally. If a topic piques your interest, you can even invite them to join the stream for a quick chat.”
Realization dawned in Sherry’s eyes. “I get it now.”
After wrapping up their conversation, Diana turned back to the rest of the team to continue refining their strategy for the debut livestream.
In her view, launching straight into product sales wasn’t the right move. While a handful of diehard fans might buy anything their favorite celebrity promoted, that kind of loyalty wouldn’t last forever. Diana had no intention of resorting to manipulative tactics that took advantage of fan devotion. Among the group of underrated stars, Zen Lunsford, a seasoned actor at the age of 40, stood out.
He had once risen to fame through action dramas, but the entertainment industry had since become obsessed with youth and viral fame. Every drama on screen now featured fresh–faced, picture–perfect young actors.
Most of Zen’s peers had long since retired. Those who remained, like him, were stuck in an endless loop, relegated to the same recycled roles in painfully similar scripts. And even then, they were always given minor supporting roles.
