80

It was a lazy Thursday afternoon when Mike, one of Lea's long-time director friends, called. The kind of call that brought back memories of studio lights, hurried script changes, and the smell of coffee at 2 a.m. during taping breaks.

"Lei," Mike's familiar voice came through, warm but slightly frazzled. "I need a favor. A big one."

Lea smiled, amused. "You sound like you're about to ask me to play a teenager again."

He laughed. "No, no. You've retired from miracles like that. This one's about your son."

Her smile faded into curiosity. "Liam?"

"Yes. One of our kid actors came down with chickenpox — we're stuck mid-shoot, and I can't recast this late. Your boy's age, same look, and from what I've seen, he's got camera presence. Just a few episodes. He wouldn't even have to act too much — mostly reaction shots and a few lines."

Lea's maternal instinct kicked in instantly. "Mike, I don't know if that's a good idea. He's only seven."

"I know, I know," Mike said quickly. "But it's not a heavy role. Think of it as an experience. Besides, the whole country already adores him after the gala. He's a natural."

Lea hesitated, leaning back on her chair. "You're serious?"

"Dead serious. We start rolling in two days. The kid was supposed to play the mayor's son — small but important subplot. If Liam can step in, it'll save the production from chaos."

She rubbed her temple. "Let me talk to Rafael first."

That evening, she found Rafael in the study, half-reading a report from DTVH and half-watching the news on mute. The late sunlight slanted through the blinds, giving his face that calm, thoughtful expression she knew so well.

"Paeng," she said, walking in with her tablet. "Mike called."

Rafael looked up. "Mike? The director?"

Lea nodded. "Yes. He's asking if Liam can substitute for a kid actor who got sick. Just a few episodes. He says Liam's perfect for the role."

Rafael's brow furrowed. "Perfect for the role, or perfect for the ratings?"

Lea sighed. "I knew you'd say that."

He set his papers down and leaned back, eyes steady on her. "You know how this goes, Lei. Once Liam steps in front of a camera, even once, there's no going back. The media will eat it up. 'Son of power couple follows in their footsteps.' He'll lose that bit of anonymity we've fought to keep."

"I know," she admitted quietly. "But it could also be something he enjoys. He's curious, Paeng. And Mike's a good man. He'll protect Liam."

Rafael pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking. "I'm not a fan of the idea," he finally said. "But I won't forbid it either. Ask him if he wants to do it. If he says yes, I'll relent."

Lea nodded, already expecting that answer. "Fair."

Rafael stood and came closer, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"That we don't make the same mistake twice. Fame comes easy for him — too easy. But it takes from him, too. I don't want him living under a spotlight he didn't ask for."

Lea smiled softly. "You mean like us?"

He smirked faintly. "Exactly."

Later that night, she found Liam sprawled on the floor of his room, coloring with Soleil beside him, the baby gurgling in her playpen. Lea sat on the bed and waited for him to notice her.

"Mama?" he said, glancing up. "Did I do something?"

"No, sweetheart," she said, smiling. "I wanted to ask you something."

He sat cross-legged, curious. "What is it?"

"You remember Tito Mike, right? The one who used to direct Mama's shows?"

"Yeah, the guy with funny glasses," Liam said, giggling.

Lea laughed. "That's him. He called today. He wants to know if you'd like to be in one of his shows. Just for a few episodes. The kid who was supposed to do it got sick."

Liam's eyes widened. "Like, on TV?"

"Like, on TV."

He blinked, thinking. "Would Papa let me?"

Lea hesitated. "Papa said it's your choice. But if you do it, it's not just playtime. It's work. Real work."

Liam looked thoughtful. "Would it make you proud?"

Lea smiled, her heart melting. "I'm already proud."

"Then maybe," he said shyly, "I can try."

Lea reached out and brushed his hair aside. "We'll see, anak. We'll talk again tomorrow."

As she kissed his forehead goodnight, Rafael appeared at the doorway, arms crossed but smiling. "He said yes, didn't he?"

Lea chuckled softly. "He said maybe."

"That's a yes," Rafael said, shaking his head.

Lea turned to him, teasing. "You're smiling, Paeng."

He shrugged. "I'm terrified."

She laughed quietly, resting her head against his chest. "Welcome to show business, Mr. De Torre."

Two days later, as the villa filled with production crew and cameras once again — Lea in full mentor mode, Rafael pretending to read a report while watching every move — Liam De Torre stood before a camera for the first time, smiling nervously.

The director called, "Rolling!"

And Lea whispered, just loud enough for her son to hear, "Remember, baby — have fun. That's all that matters."

The red light blinked on. And just like that — the youngest De Torre took his first step into the world that had shaped and tested his parents before him.