Chapter 2
Bella reached into her bag and pulled out her phone.
On the screen was a message from her agent, Susan Foster: [Ready. Can post anytime.]
Bella typed back: [Post now.]
Then she looked up at Leon. "Leon, do you know what day it is today?"
Leon shot her a frown, like she was wasting his time.
"It's the last day of our divorce process," Bella answered for him. "After today, we're no longer husband and wife."
Leon didn't even bat an eye. He tugged at his collar, clearly annoyed. "So?"
"So you don't have to wait for the show to end." Bella stood up and grabbed her bag. She glanced at the nearest camera and flashed a smile. "We can settle this today."
The comments went wild.
[What's she up to?]
[Is she about to threaten suicide or something?]
[Bella, stop causing drama!]
[Leon, run!]
Bella didn't spare anyone another glance.
She turned and walked toward the door, her high heels clicking sharply on the floor, each step echoing like a countdown.
Chloe called out behind her, her voice trembling with tears. "Bella!"
Bella didn't look back.
She pushed open the lounge door and stepped into the hallway, leaving behind a flood of comments and fifteen million viewers watching her every move.
As the door closed behind her, she heard her phone buzz.
Susan's message popped up: [Posted. Get ready for the trending list.]
Bella slipped her phone into her pocket and picked up her pace.
The hallway seemed endless, the lights glaringly white, her shadow trailing long behind her.
Bella remembered her wedding to Leon three years ago; the venue was bathed in the same cold, white light.
She'd walked toward him in her wedding dress, believing she was stepping into her own happily ever after.
Instead, she got three years of silent treatment, two years of separation, a year of being torn apart by the internet, and a bracelet on another woman's wrist.
Bella smiled, pushed open the door at the end of the hallway, and stepped into the sunlight.
Behind her, the live stream comments suddenly shifted direction.
[Holy crap, check out Twitter!]
[Bella's statement is trending!]
[What statement?]
[She posted a divorce statement. No, wait, she posted... Hang on, what's her Twitter badge? Is she verified?]
[Wait, she's a famous screenwriter?]
[Bella wrote The Abyss? The Abyss? The one that won the Golden Finch Awards?]
[No way! Must be someone else with the same name.]
[Holy crap, her studio's official account shared it. It's really her!]
The live stream camera was still focused on the closed door of the lounge.
Leon stood by the sofa, still gripping Chloe's wrist, and his composure finally broke.
He pulled out his phone and opened Twitter.
The top trending topic was blazing red.
[Bella Winters, The Abyss Screenwriter] was blowing up.
Leon tapped on it.
Bella's Twitter profile picture was a plain white background with a single bold black word: [Divorce.]
Her latest tweet, posted two minutes ago, was short: [Three years of marriage, and it ends here.
[Attached: scanned copy of the divorce agreement. Also, I, Bella Winters, am the sole screenwriter of the TV series The Abyss. I reserve the right to take legal action against any accusations of plagiarism.]
There were two photos attached.
One was the divorce agreement, Bella's name written in a crisp, formal hand.
The other was the screenwriter contract for The Abyss, with her official signature and her legal name, both clearly displayed.
Leon stared at the contract for five seconds, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.
The Abyss.
It was the breakout drama that swept six Golden Finch Awards last year.
It was the one that had the whole industry buzzing, trying to figure out who the mysterious legend behind it was.
It was the masterpiece that made Chloe blow up online for three months, all because she said at the press conference, "Thanks to the screenwriter for writing such a great role."
Leon's phone dropped to the floor.
The comments went absolutely insane.
[Holy crap! Bella is the screenwriter of The Abyss?]
[Wait, when Chloe thanked the writer, did she know Bella was the screenwriter?]
[No way she knew... Don't Chloe and Bella know each other?]
[Stop fighting and check Chloe's Twitter; she deleted that thanks to the writer's tweet!]
[Deleted? Seriously?]
[She really did! LMAO.]
[Holy crap, this is wild!]
[Bella hit back so fast! Chloe was saying she couldn't bear to part with Leon, and now Bella reveals she's the screenwriter of The Abyss.]
[So Leon's been icing out a Golden Finch Award-winning screenwriter?]
[Lol, Leon, bet you're regretting it now!]
*****
In the lounge, Chloe's face turned as pale as paper.
Her phone kept vibrating in her hand, as message after message from her agent popped up on the screen.
[Did you know Bella was the screenwriter of The Abyss?]
[Why didn't you say something sooner?]
[Delete that tweet! Wait, you already did. Don't post anything else. Wait for my call.]
Chloe's fingers were trembling.
She remembered the celebration party for The Abyss last year. She'd raised her glass and said, "I hope I can thank the screenwriter in person one day."
Everyone laughed, saying the screenwriter never showed up, and nobody in the industry knew who it was.
Bella had been sitting in the corner that day, sipping a sweet coffee, looking at her and saying, "No need to thank me."
Chloe thought Bella was throwing shade.
She never realized Bella really meant it, because the person Chloe wanted to thank had been right there in front of her all along.
Leon picked up his phone, his fingers trembling. He scrolled through his contacts, found Bella's number, and dialed.
A mechanical voice said, "The number you have dialed is turned off."
He tried again.
Still off.
He called again.
Still off.