9
Three months later, I completed my script and directed my first–ever movie.
Thanks to the support of Dominic Fletcher and Marissa Caldwell, I secured the hottest stars in Hollywood, Everett Cole and Evelyn Morgan, as my leads.
Pouring every ounce of my energy into the project, I ensured that every detail was meticulously handled. I even joined the leads during rehearsals to guide their performances.
During an emotionally charged rain scene, Everett struggled to hit the right notes. Frustrated, I decided to step in.
“In this downpour, look at me like your heart is breaking–like you’re losing the love you can never have,” I said, coaxing him into the moment. “You’re holding back tears, but as the rain falls harder and she begins to fade into the storm, you can’t hold it in any longer. You run after her, pull her back.”
“You bend down, and with all the pain in your heart, you whisper…” I softened my voice, locking eyes with him. “Can’t you even look at me?”
Everett’s gaze met mine, and to my surprise, the anguish and restraint I had described were perfectly reflected in his eyes. My heart leapt at the raw emotion he suddenly exuded.
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His red–rimmed eyes bore into mine as he leaned closer, his pale lips trembling, closing the space between us.
I didn’t stop him, giving Evelyn Morgan a subtle nod. This was a rare chance for her to learn–she had to seize it.
She gave a serious nod, preparing to dive into the scene.
But before we could continue, a furious voice broke through the quiet intensity.
“Lexa! What are you doing?!”
The entire set froze.
Everett stiffened, the fragile emotional connection shattered. Annoyed, I turned to see who had dared to interrupt.
There he was–Gabriel Whitmore.
Disheveled, unshaven, and looking like a shadow of his former self, he stormed onto the set with an air of self–righteous fury.
“Lexa, have you already moved on to someone new?!” His voice echoed across the soundstage.
For a moment, I thought Gabriel had forgotten he was an actor himself, thrown into a jealous rage by my rehearsing a scene.
“Gabriel, we’re rehearsing,” I said icily. “Leave the set.”
“You’re a director, sure, but does that give you the right to act out romantic scenes with your actors?” he snapped, his words laced with venom.
“And who are you to question me?” I shot back. “Who do you think you are to interfere?”
“I…” Gabriel faltered, his bravado momentarily broken. After a long pause, he finally said, “Lexa, I’m sorry. I regret everything…”
Gabriel was a master of tears on screen. When he raised his soulful eyes, few could resist their pull. Once, I’d been no exception, melting at his every display of sorrow.
But not anymore.
He stepped closer, but Everett blocked his path with a steely glare.
“Mr. Whitmore, this is a professional set,” Everett said coldly. “Kindly leave.”
Gabriel’s frustration boiled over. He swung a fist at Everett, but it was a clumsy, desperate move. Everett dodged effortlessly, delivering kick that sent Gabriel sprawling onto the wet floor.
Lying in the rain, Gabriel groaned in pain. He reached out for my coat hem, but I stepped back, disdain etched on my face.
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“Lexa… Please. Don’t leave me. Give me one more chance,” he pleaded, his voice breaking.
I knelt beside him, looking him in the eyes one last time. “I gave you chances, Gabriel. I gave you years of chances. But the moment you and Serena Sterling used your fake romance for fame, I knew I didn’t want you anymore.”
I turned and walked away, leaving him sobbing in the rain.
Six months later, my film wrapped. The production had been a resounding success.
As the crew dispersed, Everett approached me, a bouquet of roses in hand.
“Lexa, I-” he began.
“I want to keep moving forward,” I interrupted, smiling gently at his nervous expression..
He looked crestfallen for a moment, but his determination quickly reignited. “Fine. Then I’ll wait.”
4:35 PM
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“I’ll wait until you’ve reached the top. And when you’re ready, see if you want a small–time actor like me by your side.”
