She felt it—the sting of sadness, the gnaw of jealousy.
Why did Balfour have to play the caring gentleman to her, then turn around and wrap his arms around Giselle?
Ah, men!
After a restless night, Ivy dragged herself through the next day, her spirit seemingly as heavy as lead.
"Ivy, you're looking a little under the weather today," chimed in a co-star, a side character in the TV show, barely a blip on the call sheet.
They had shared a scene once, but that was the extent of their acquaintance. Ivy had not expected anyone in the crew to take notice of her, especially after the recent scandal that had everyone treating her with kid gloves.
"Thanks for noticing. Just didn't catch much sleep, that's all."
"Is it the old 'new bed blues'?" Margot, the inquisitive sidekick, leaned in with a conspiratorial air and fished out a tin from her purse. "This is my little insomnia buster. Works like a charm. Here, take it. Might help you next time you're counting sheep."
Ivy hesitated but accepted the tin gratefully. "Thank you."
She did not understand why this colleague seemed so eager to extend kindness her way, but she was not about to reject a friendly gesture.
"By the way, Ivy, what's the deal with you and Giselle? On day one, she timed her coffee delivery precisely—it was so obviously a move aimed at you."
The young actress did not have the same opportunistic vibe as the rest of the crew.
Giselle seemed to rub her the wrong way, and she did not hesitate to voice her suspicions.
"You're not a fan of Giselle?" Ivy was taken aback. "But she's like the darling of the set. How come you don't like her?"
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