Dhar mann auditions

Andrew Tate and Dhar Mann fanfic, chapter 1.
Andrew Tate scrolls through his phone, browsing on Youtube with criticizing brows. "Who's this guy? He's clearly a beta, talking about being nice to people... especially weaker, poorer people and... and... Such bullshit!"
"Sir, he's right in front of you" whispered a suited henchman to Andrew, gesturing towards Dhar Mann himself. Andrew rolled his eyes, visible from above his tinted shades of a blatantly expansive brand.
"Um, duh. It's called asserting my dominance. It's what you do when you clearly know you are the Sigma Alpha male who needs to teach their betas a lesson," mansplained Andrew to his ignorant henchman. As if on que, Andrew then quickly shot his look at Dhar Mann, who was standing patiently, leaning over one leg and his arms crossed, his face having the "are you done yet?" look.
"Are you couples done playing in the grass? Get off my lawn, I'm very uncomfortable about you guys standing here," pointed Dhar Mann. They are indeed standing on the lawn next to the path that leads to Dhar Mann's front door of a multi-million dollar mansion.
"I'm here because your videos are sending the wrong message! And why aren't the women in them making sandwiches? Out. Rageous." exclaimed Andrew. "I mean, here I am, telling dudes who look up to me to be rough and tough, and to buy my merch, and here you are, telling them to be soft and to buy YOUR merch!"
Dhar Mann shrugged, "Well, we don't exactly have a lot of mutual followers in the first place, take it easy."
Andrew Tate's veins popped off, something inside him snapped in annoyance. Dhar Mann's response is insinuating that Andrew's overreacting, and Andrew hates it when people think he's overreacting. It means he's not being taken seriously. Andrew himself wasn't being serious, purposely agitating Dhar Mann with a hidden camera for content, but it still stung his ego with the way Dhar Mann played out.
"Shut your pothole!" spitted Andrew Tate, his intent to act ceasing by the second.
"Fancy, coming from the loudest pothole here," Dhar Mann threw back.
"Don't play hypocrite with me, not with your cheapass mansion of only 15 mill and still too poor to pay your actors," leveled Andrew.
"Yeah well it looks like you should be an actor, with all your hidden cameras."
"What? You knew?"
"What can I say? Filmmaker's intuition." Dhar Mann moved his chin up, gesturing his superiority towards Andrew Tate, his ego looking frail in comparison to how cool Dhar Mann looks.
"Alright, that's a wrap!" said a director, talking in to cut the scene. The whole thing was a setup agreed by the two media creators to stir up drama for internet relevance. The hidden cameras are real, however, and is planned to be uploaded on Andrew Tate's platform.
The Tate, who's no longer acting, is still shaking in annoyance at the thought of appearing inferior, is approached by Dhar Mann.
"Woah... good acting, you really don't look okay!" Dhar Mann said while leaning back in reaction.
Andrew doesn't say anything.
"It's okay, honey-boo. It'll only be temporary. You will look just as big as you are in bed later on when you show me who's boss," assured Dhar Mann, reaching out his hand at Andrew to comb his hair.
Andrew gave a deep sigh. He has calmed. "You're right. This is only a chad-energy investment for later on in the video."
Dhar Mann smiled in pride. "That's my love," and pushed Andrew's head towards his lips to kiss it.
END OF CHAPTER 1.