Chapter 70: Just pretend you’re the only one in the room
[Alaska Studio]
Anna’s pulse quickened as she stood before the towering glass building, the bold letters Alaska Studio gleaming in the morning light. Her first table read. Her first movie. Her dream finally coming alive.
Once, in her past life, she had buried that dream beneath fear, betrayal, and suffocating expectations. But not this time. Not in this second chance.
She straightened her shoulders, her eyes glinting with the determination of a woman who had sworn to live for herself.
And just as she took her first confident step forward—
Wham!
She collided with someone hard enough to make her stumble back.
"Watch where you’re going, girl," came the voice she dreaded most, slicing through her ears like nails on glass.
Anna froze, recognition hitting her instantly. Fiona. Of course.
Of all the people she could have bumped into, fate had thrown this woman straight into her path.
Anna’s lips curved in irritation. "Funny. I was just about to say the same thing, Fiona. Can’t you open your eyes for once? Or do you really believe the world revolves around you?"
Then her gaze slid upward, catching the oversized sunglasses perched on Fiona’s nose. A sharp laugh slipped out. "Oh, wait. How could you see? You’re too busy hiding behind those shades."
Fiona’s lips twitched. With a hiss of annoyance, she ripped the sunglasses off, her eyes narrowing into slits.
"Excuse me, Miss—" her assistant, Venus, snapped, puffing her chest up. "You can’t talk to my Madam like that."
Anna glanced at her, then back at Fiona, and smirked. "How ironic. A blind girl helping another blind one."
"You—!" Fiona’s face flamed.
Anna didn’t give her the satisfaction of silence. She leaned forward slightly, voice cool but sharp. "Tell me, Fiona, since when did you become the authority on collisions? If I recall correctly, you’re the one who failed to notice a whole human being walking right in front of you."
Fiona jabbed a finger at her, fury written all over her face.
Over the years, Fiona had grown used to Anna’s timid silence. But that Anna was long gone. In her place stood a woman who refused to bow, who wasn’t afraid to sting back—and the realization infuriated Fiona all the more.
"Hello, my beautiful ladies," a cheerful voice cut through the tension, halting the firestorm brewing between them.
Both women turned, their expressions snapping into something else entirely.
Wilsmith.
The producer strolled toward them with his usual warm, approachable demeanor, Ethan walking beside him like a silent shadow.
"Good thing I found you both," Wilsmith said as he stopped in front of them, his easy smile dimming the sharp edges in the air.
Like flipping a switch, Fiona’s face softened into a sweet, practiced smile. "We were just talking," she lied smoothly, her gaze flickering to Ethan as if hoping for acknowledgment.
But Ethan didn’t so much as glance her way. His eyes went straight to Anna.
"Are you okay?" His voice was blunt, directed entirely at her.
Anna blinked, caught off guard. Her gaze darted between Fiona, Wilsmith, and Ethan, suddenly aware of the awkwardness his question sparked.
"Yes, perfectly fine," she managed, her voice steady despite her nerves.
Ethan hummed, expression unreadable, before looking away.
Out of the corner of his eye, Wilsmith noticed the subtle shift in Fiona’s expression, her smile faltering the moment Ethan ignored her. He filed that away without a word.
"How about we head upstairs?" Wilsmith suggested, cutting the silence. "I’d like to go over a few things before the session starts."
Grateful for the interruption, Anna nodded, and soon they all moved together through the sleek lobby toward the elevators.
***
[Inside the Elevator]
"I thought it would only be us, the cast, and a few staff members today," Wilsmith began, breaking the silence as the elevator ascended. "But the producer has changed his plan. He’ll be joining us for the table read."
Anna blinked in surprise. ’Producer?’
Wilsmith adjusted his glasses, lowering his voice as though he feared the walls might be listening. "He declined at first because of his schedule, but late last night his assistant called me personally. He’ll be here soon" his voice trailed and so where his thoughts
’but under one condition. His identity remains confidential. Not a word beyond this room.’ concluding the remaining words in his mind.
At once, Fiona’s eyes glittered, her lips curving with eagerness. She had spent weeks trying to uncover details about the mysterious investor who had poured money into this project, but all she had found were whispers: wealthy, powerful, influential.
"That’s wonderful," she said sweetly, masking the greed in her tone. "It will be an honor to meet the man who believed in us enough to invest."
Her mind, however, was already racing with schemes. ’If I can win him over, the spotlight will always be mine.’
Anna, meanwhile, furrowed her brows. ’How have I not thought about him before?’ She had been so consumed with her nerves, Fiona’s constant barbs, and Daniel’s suffocating presence that the producer himself had slipped her mind.
Her thoughts broke when she felt eyes on her. Turning slightly, she caught Ethan watching her, his steady gaze soft with concern.
"Are you sure you’re alright?" he asked, his voice low, cautious. He had noticed the subtle tension between her and Fiona the moment he stepped in—and something told him Fiona had tried pulling one of her usual stunts.
Anna hesitated, then forced an awkward but genuine smile. "I’m fine. Just... nervous. This is my first table read."
It wasn’t a lie. Her ghost role before had been so small it barely counted, and her audition had been in front of only Ethan and Wilsmith. Today was different. Today, she would be performing in front of a group. That thought alone made her stomach twist.
"Don’t worry," Ethan said, his voice steady, reassuring. "Just pretend you’re the only one in the room. Forget the others exist. Focus only on yourself—and the script."
His words slipped under her skin, a quiet anchor she hadn’t expected.
Back in school, he had seen her—the quiet girl eating lunch alone while classmates whispered and laughed. Fat, greedy, pathetic, they used to mock. She never fought back, never defended herself, simply bore it in silence.
And Ethan... the golden boy, the one who drew eyes wherever he went... had wanted, so many times, to sit with her. To tell them to shut up. To not let her carry it alone.
But he hadn’t. Because being seen with her would have made things worse for her. And because his own popularity was a prison—constant stares, fake friendships, no privacy. The attention that everyone thought was a gift had been his own curse.
Sometimes, when he looked at her now, he still felt that sting of guilt.
Anna’s lips parted as though to respond, but no words came. She quickly looked away, staring at the glowing numbers above the door.
Fiona, watching from the corner of her eye, had noticed everything—the way Ethan’s tone softened, the way Anna’s shoulders eased. Rage coiled hot in her gut, though she forced a brittle smile. ’Enjoy it while you can, Anna. He’ll see soon enough who truly belongs at his side.’
The elevator dinged, doors sliding open. However was unsure of what was waiting next for her.