The bespectacled woman was on cloud nine, feeling almost giddy. Mr. Howard was young, successful, and breathtakingly handsome. Even after years of swimming in the shark-infested waters of showbiz, she couldn't recall ever crossing paths with such a flawless man.
As these thoughts swirled in her head, a blush crept across her cheeks, her mind daring to entertain the fantasy. Could there possibly be a chance that Mr. Howard might fancy her?
Sure, she wasn't the fresh-faced ingenue that Giselle was, but there was a certain allure to a woman of experience.
However, her reverie was shattered by Balfour's icy gaze, laced with a trace of disdain.
She had been spouting vitriol about Ivy, and she knew Balfour wasn't exactly Ivy's number one fan. So why did his eyes seem to flicker with a murderous intent?
Had she misread the situation?
Regrettably, after giving her that piercing look from his lofty perch, Balfour never glanced her way again.
Ivy had grown accustomed to the scornful looks cast her way by those around her. Being publicly dumped by Mr. Howard had made her the punchline of a cruel joke.
No matter what evidence she had, they would never believe she was framed.
It didn't seem to matter anymore. She had no desire to plead for the truth. In fact, she found herself wishing for an escape.
Maybe she was simply incompatible with this film crew. Ever since she took on this role, nothing but chaos had ensued.
She wasn't some emotionless automaton. The weariness was starting to take its toll.
Initially, Ivy had thought that if she stayed true to herself and focused on her craft, everything would work out.
But the reality on set was far from it.
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