Chapter 2

Back at my apartment, I scrolled through tonight's trending topics.

All of them were talking about Mia and me.

People were saying Mia was just an innocent-looking third-rate actress with serious connections behind the scenes, and even I—the favorite everyone bet on—ended up losing to her.

But those kinds of comments got shut down pretty fast. Soon, the trending hashtags switched to [Mia's Unstoppable Work Ethic], [Mia Totally Earned It], and [Mia's Dress Is Fire].

I gripped my phone tighter, my knuckles turning white.

I could tell Henry was behind all this, buying up the trending topics to bury any negative talk about Mia.

Ever since Mia first stepped into the industry, Henry had been playing hero for her, throwing resources her way and making sure she got every opportunity.

I was Henry's real girlfriend, but whenever nasty rumors about me popped up, he never even tried to defend me.

He just told me to suck it up and stop overreacting.

Mia's account was flooded with new fans, and every single one of them was showering her with praise.

One comment stood out. It read: [Some people think that just because they're veterans, they're guaranteed to win. But let's be real—their acting could never beat my girl Mia.]

Mia retweeted it right away. She even posted: [Guys, don't get mad for me. Haters give me more fuel to keep going. I'll continue to prove myself through my work. Let's go.]

Henry liked her post almost instantly.

I stared at my phone, my vision blurring with unshed tears.

During the years we were dating, Henry and I avoided interacting online—never even a like or comment, always afraid of fueling gossip. But now, he was constantly out there, liking literally everything Mia posted.

Lucy, my agent, was fuming on my behalf.

She complained, "What's wrong with Henry? That award clearly should've gone to you. Mia can't even deliver her lines properly—her acting is so awkward. How is she even worthy of it?

"Does Henry even care that you nearly risked your life to film that role?"

As she said that, her eyes softened, gazing at me with genuine concern.

Lucy was one of the few who ever knew about my eight-year, off-the-radar thing with Henry—that messy, hush-hush relationship we'd somehow kept alive all that time.

I forced a small, self-mocking grin and said, "It doesn't matter anymore. We're done."

Lucy froze for a second, then pulled me into a tight hug.

She said, "Good for you. Honestly, I've never liked him, and you deserve someone a million times better."

I felt tired.

I said, "I'm planning to quit showbiz. I'll finish up my work by the end of this month. Just turn down everything else after that."

Lucy looked stunned for a moment, then sighed.

She said, "As long as you've really thought this through, that's all that matters. This industry is a mess, and you're too straightforward—no connections, no interest in schmoozing. Honestly, getting out now while you still can is probably for the best."

My eyes dropped. A pain I couldn't even describe twisted inside me.

After Lucy left, I started going through my place, tossing out everything I didn't care about anymore.

Sifting through my drawers, I stumbled on a dust-covered DVD.

It was Henry's very first short film—Radiance—from eight years back.

Back then, I was just an acting freshman, and Henry was the big-name sophomore in the directing department—pretty much campus royalty.

He blew everyone away with Radiance, scooping up tons of awards and getting called a genius director.

He was good-looking and ridiculously talented, so of course every girl at school had a crush on him.

I fell for him, too.

That day, my team was supposed to rehearse a scene, but I just couldn't get myself in the mood.

After everyone left, I stuck around in the classroom, running lines to myself in front of the mirror.

Henry happened to walk by, offered a few quick pointers, and suddenly everything clicked.

He even stuck around to run the scene with me, really helping me get into character. Right before heading out, he flashed me a smile and said, "Come on, you've got this."

Just a few words of encouragement from him, and I fell for him—so hard I couldn't help myself.

I spent an entire year trying to win him over, and finally, he gave in.

Later, I asked Henry if he'd ever consider casting me in one of his films.

I absolutely adored how he made his female leads come alive on screen—so vibrant, so full of soul.

But Henry didn't hesitate to shut me down. He said, "Your acting just isn't up to par. You're not a fit for my work."

From that moment on, I vowed to pour everything into my acting and hone my craft.

I started as a total background extra—nobody even noticed me. Then came bit parts with barely a few lines. Fast-forward to today: I was finally headlining a show as the lead.

The climb took me eight long years.

All I ever wanted was to stand beside Henry, be someone worthy of him, and become the leading lady in front of his camera one day.

Lucy always said I was too stubborn for my own good.

She said if I'd only acted a little cute in front of Henry—maybe begged him for a small supporting role—I'd probably be famous by now, and the rest of my career would've been a breeze.

But Henry couldn't stand anyone trying to pull strings on his set.

I kept thinking that if I could just win this award, then maybe I'd finally get to say it to him—totally confident, like I actually belonged by his side.

I could proudly say to him, "See? I made it. I'm the Best Actress now. If you put me in your film, you wouldn't have to worry about me dragging you down."

But that day would never come.

I threw the DVD in the trash without a second thought.

Eight years of feelings for him went in right along with it.