Chapter 3
I really thought this time, I'd finally see some results.
But then Ryan won an international award and became the head of a film empire.
His lens started to capture more and more people. But gradually, I faded out of the frame.
Things between Ryan and me started to fall apart the year Elsie came back.
I wasn't exactly famous, but I was the female lead in almost every film Ryan directed.
He always said I was made for the camera.
But after Elsie came back, he swapped me out of The Pure Ones, the movie he'd spent three years preparing, right before filming started.
I'd spent half a year getting ready for that role.
To play a woman who crawled out of the ruins, I lost weight, practiced fight choreography, and picked up a dialect.
I spent two weeks in the basement.
There was no sunlight, I had no sugar, and I'd been watching documentaries about ruins.
The day before filming was supposed to start, Ryan told me I didn't need to come.
I asked him, "Why?"
He said, "Elsie is a better fit."
I thought I must've misheard him.
Ryan looked at me, sounding like he was directing a scene. "Evelyn, you know too well how to win.
"The moment you step in front of the camera, the audience sees your sharpness first.
"This role needs a face untouched by the world.
"Elsie standing there is the whole story."
I asked him, "So what was the point of the last six months?"
He paused for a moment. "That's just how it is for actors. You have to go with the director's call."
*****
Now, standing by my hospital bed, Ryan still spoke in that same tone.
"Ryan," I said, "when you told me I wasn't pure enough, did you ever stop to think who taught me to be so worldly?"
His brow twitched.
I forced a smile. "I was the one hitting up film sets with you, drinking, chasing down investors, begging people to watch your movies.
"Back then, you couldn't even hang onto a single reel of film.
"All the messes I covered for you have turned into stains everyone sees on me."
Ryan's expression changed.
My tears splashed onto the sheet. I wiped them away at once.
"So relax," I said. "I just want to leave."
Ryan swallowed hard, but didn't say a word.
*****
Back then, after the filming started, during that fire scene on set, something went wrong.
Elsie tampered with the pyrotechnic fuse.
When the flames rushed at me, I shielded my face, but my back and shoulders were left with severe burns across a wide area.
The doctor said the scars would fade, but they'd never disappear completely.
After that, I couldn't take on any backless scenes, or anything with fire or explosions.
Whenever I got near the hot lights, my back would go numb.
Whenever the camera zoomed in, I couldn't stop myself from trembling.
Ryan had all the evidence—the props the crew left behind, photos from the set, and even footage of Elsie entering the control room.
But he never exposed any of it.
He said, "If we put this out now, Elsie's finished. Evelyn, the storm will pass."
I asked, "So what about me?"
"You can work backstage. You've got the talent. You don't have to stay in the spotlight."
Ryan made it sound like he'd left me an out, but at the end of that path, he was the one who erased me from the screen.
That day, the System told me Ryan hadn't chosen me either.
His camera could've exposed everything, but he chose to cover up for Elsie instead.
Before Elsie left the country, Ryan even shot a short film for her.
In the short film, she stood by the lake in a white dress, tears streaming down her face.
She said, "I just wanted to be seen."
People online started to sympathize with her.
They said she was just a kid, a victim, and that I was being too harsh.
Only after watching the short film did I realize that the lake in the video was the exact place where Ryan and I had our first kiss.
*****
When the doctor came in to change my bandages, Ryan stepped over to the window to take a call.
His phone screen lit up with Elsie's name.
On the other end, she was sobbing, her voice trembling. "Mr. Chase, did Evelyn try to hurt herself because of me?
"Is filming still happening tomorrow?
"If I'm making things difficult for everyone, I can step down."
Ryan glanced at me. "It's not your fault, Elsie. Evelyn's been like this before."
The doctor started cutting through the bandages.
My skin was stuck to the gauze, and as he slowly peeled it away, it was being torn open, bit by bit.
My fingers curled in pain, but I didn't make a sound.
Ryan's voice kept going. "I'll take care of it. Just get some rest."
He said that softly, sounding tender.
But when the doctor lifted the blood-soaked gauze with the tweezers, Ryan's eyelid twitched noticeably.
His fingers tightened around his phone, and then went still.
Elsie whispered, "Will Evelyn hate me?"
Ryan said, "That's not going to stop the shoot."
I stared at my wrist, which was still bleeding, and suddenly let out a bitter laugh.
After Ryan hung up, his assistant came in and handed him a document.
Ryan set it down by my bed. "Sign it."
I glanced at it.
It was a non-disclosure agreement.
It said that tonight's rooftop video, the clip of Alex and Elsie, and everything about my suicide attempt could never go public.
There was also a preliminary statement attached.
It mentioned relapse of old injuries, unstable mental state, and possible sleepwalking.
I looked up at Ryan. "My blood's not even dry yet, and you're already writing my story for me?"
Ryan's face was blank. "I'm doing this for your own good.
"If this blows up, everyone will say you tried to kill yourself to force Alex into marrying you."
"For me? Or for Elsie?"
Ryan stayed silent, refusing to answer.
I pulled a silver lighter out of my bag.
It was something Ryan's mom left behind.
Back then, when he handed it to me, he said, "If you ever feel like you can't go on, bring this to me. I'll do one thing for you, whatever you ask."
There were so many times I wanted to take it out. I wanted to beg Ryan to trust me, to release the evidence, to not give my role to Elsie.
But not once did I ever use it.
Now, I set the lighter down in front of him.