Julius leaned back on the barstool now, a devil in designer denim, the stream still live and crackling with engagement. He sipped casually from his glass, as if he hadn't just torn open a story the internet would dissect for weeks.
"Let's talk facts," he said, resting his forearm on the bar. "Not gossip, not scandal—just money."
He glanced to the side. Lucas was no longer in frame, probably lifting something twice his weight like it owed him rent. Good. This part was Julius's battlefield anyway.
"Eliza Ning," he said with a shrug, "built a brand on beauty, 'wellness,' and exclusive access. But the access was always borrowed. The trips? Paid for by sponsors. The diamonds? On loan. The apartment? A handshake deal with an agent who wanted her in front of cameras. Nothing wrong with that hustle, sure… unless you turn around and try to destroy the one person who kept your lights on for years."
He let that hang in the air. The chat exploded again, hearts and fire emojis pouring in.
"And yeah," Julius added, smiling too wide, "Lucas had money. Millions then. But he didn't want to play that part. He wanted to coach high schoolers, eat regular food, sweat it out on a real court. Know how many millionaires pass on fame? Not many. But he did."
He raised the glass like a toast.
"That man—he bought her mother a car. Quietly. Kept her sister's tuition covered, and never once asked for payback. Now she's got a nine-episode deal airing laundry no one asked for, and pretending it's empowerment? Please."
The feed popped as several small accounts—fans, insiders, even ex-coworkers—started quoting him live. Screenshots flooded Twitter.
#TeaWithJulius was born.
ATHENA pinged Lucas in the gym.
"Livestream efficacy: critical mass achieved. Julius Quotation Index rising. Ad revenue surging. Influencer reach exceeding 19.4 million. Strategic dominance: confirmed."
Julius leaned forward into the camera, voice lowering, like he was letting the world in on a secret they weren't supposed to hear.
"You want to know the worst part?" he said, eyes burning cold. "Lucas tried to save her."
He held up one finger. "Once, when she ghosted him for a photoshoot."Another finger. "Twice, when she called his coaching job 'brand poison.'"He raised a third. "Three times, when she said he was only useful as long as he stayed hot."
More fingers. More wounds.
"Seven times," he said finally. "Seven damn times he forgave her, made excuses, gave her space to grow. Because that's who he is. He sticks. He waits. He believes people can get better."
He leaned back, letting that sink in.
"But Eliza?" Julius smiled without humor. "She was never drowning. She was building a raft out of Lucas's name, and praying it floated longer than her own talent."
The stream paused—just a blink—and Julius reached offscreen.
He came back with a small folder.
"Receipts? I don't just have them. Cyrus had them. Business records. Payments. Sponsor memos. Audio clips. Doctored edits. The man didn't trust easily, but when he did, he protected what mattered and he did a good job protecting his son."
He tapped the folder with one finger.
"And guess the best part? He didn't delete anything."
The chat exploded in real time.
"DROP. THE. FILES.""Julius is the new people's prince.""Eliza just lost every contract on earth.""Cyrus knew?! That's game over."
ATHENA buzzed in Lucas's ear again."Public sentiment swing now at 91% favorable. Eliza's brand value has dropped 68% in twelve minutes. Recommendation: proceed with tactical silence and let Julius burn the field."
Lucas grunted and switched machines.
Some fires didn't need his match. Julius had it lit—and the whole city was watching it burn.
Lucas exhaled slowly through his nose, sweat running down his spine as he finished a brutal set.
The live stream hadn't dipped once. If anything, the numbers were climbing by the second. It look like his kill order was effective.
Julius turned his chair slightly, now dead center in frame. The grin was gone. His voice? Calm. Cold. Dangerous.
"You wanted the documentary worthy truth," he said, reaching for the last card in the deck. "Here it is."
He tapped a tablet beside him. The screen behind him lit up—static, then video. A grainy rooftop shot, clearly timestamped from six months ago. The night Lucas's contract was publicly canceled after his injury. The night everything fell apart.
Eliza. In a white dress. Making out with a well-known tech heir against the window of a VIP bar suite—unapologetic, laughing.
A second video followed. Different guy. Same night.
"You remember the story, don't you?" Julius asked, voice a little lower now. "Lucas's career-ending injury. That press conference. He left in a brace. Went home in silence. Guess who didn't come with him?"
Silence on the feed. Not a single comment. It was a moment of collective breath held.
"Same night. Not even a day to mourn his career. That's not just betrayal. That's cruelty."
He let the silence stretch. Let the internet scream for him.
Then he added, voice like a final nail:
"We don't forgive that."
ATHENA chimed softly in Lucas's ear."Trending at #1 globally. Eliza Ning's agency has issued a 'no comment.' Sponsors exiting contracts in real time. Reputational annihilation—complete."
Lucas didn't smile. He didn't speak.
He dropped into another set of reps. The only thing louder than the world burning was the silence in his own chest finally starting to ease.
Julius stayed on camera. No script.
"Alright," he said, tapping the tablet as questions poured in, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You want answers? Let's go."
First question: Was Eliza ever loyal?
He didn't hesitate. "Not to the version of Lucas you see now. Maybe to the idea of him she thought she could control. But not this man. Not the one who coach teenagers for fun."
Second question: Why did Lucas stay so long?
"Because he's loyal to a fault," Julius replied. "Because he believed in fixing things. Even when those things didn't deserve fixing."
Third question: Did Cyrus know?
Julius leaned forward. "Cyrus Han always knew. That man ran background checks on everyone. But he did let him choose."
The chat exploded.
"This is better than any drama on TV.""Give Julius a talk show!""Protect Lucas at all costs."
Another question: Is Lucas dating again?
Julius just laughed. "Define dating. He's taking meetings. Let's leave it at that."
The camera angle shifted slightly, giving a blurry glimpse of Lucas mid pull-up, jaw tight, veins flexed.
No words needed.
Just movement. Control. Discipline.
ATHENA's voice slid into Julius's earpiece now."Engagement peak: sustained. Media traction optimal. Stream duration limit reached. Recommend soft wrap and redirect to curated PR segment."
Julius raised his brow at the AI. "Right. Because the robots always want me to behave."
He faced the camera again.
"Thanks for coming to tea, people," he said, his voice warming. "Truth matters. Loyalty matters. And sometimes the best thing you can do for someone you care about… is light the fire they wouldn't."
He winked.
"Catch you next crisis."
The stream went dark.
And the world didn't stop watching.