The Movie Queen

My phone buzzed in my palm as I touched up my makeup on the film set. The entertainment news headline that popped up stabbed at my eyes, making them ache. "Rising star Grace Scott is suspected of being caught up in a photo scandal, with private photos leaked." I thought it was just some mix-up with someone having the same name, but my fingers clicked open the images before I could stop them. The background in the photos was clearly my apartment bedroom, and the person's face was unmistakably mine. My mind went completely blank in an instant, the makeup artist's puff still resting on my cheek. The director's shout came fast, saying the investors were pulling out and that I had to leave the set immediately. I packed my things like a puppet, the whispers around me stabbing at my ears like needles. When I got home, the living room light was blindingly bright. My father sat on the sofa, a stack of newspapers in front of him, his face pale as death. "How dare you show your face here?" He slammed the newspapers at my feet. "You've completely shamed the Scott Family!" I tried to explain that the photos were fake, but my throat felt choked, and I couldn't get a word out. "Get out," he pointed at the door. "From now on, you're no longer my daughter." The screech of my suitcase wheels against the hallway floor was unbearably sharp. I stood outside, not knowing where to go. I pulled out my phone to call my fiancé, Joseph Locke, but first got a message from his mother. "The engagement is off. Our Locke family cannot marry a woman like you." Right after, a post from Isabelle Scott popped up on my social feed. She's my father's stepdaughter, two years younger than me. In the photo, she wore a pure white dress, standing next to Joseph Locke, with the caption "Everything has settled, the rest of my life starts now." I stared at the screen, tears finally spilling down my cheeks. Just then, a black sedan pulled up right in front of me. The car window rolled down, revealing William Stafford's face. He's my childhood friend—we grew up together—and later he took over the family business. "Get in." His voice was still calm and steady, just like before. I hesitated for a moment, then grabbed my suitcase and climbed into the passenger seat. "I already know everything," he said, handing me a tissue. "Don't worry, I've got you." Over the next few days, William took care of all the mess for me. He suppressed the negative news online and covered the film crew's losses for me. I thought he was just helping me as a friend—until he laid a marriage contract in front of me. "Marry me," he said, looking into my eyes, "I'll protect you." I was stunned and asked him why. He said we grew up together, and he always wanted to take care of me. Back then, I was desperate. Seeing the seriousness in his eyes, I nodded. The wedding was lavish, and William Stafford purposely invited a ton of media. He held my hand and told the cameras, "Grace Scott is my wife. From now on, anyone who messes with her is messing with me, William Stafford." After the wedding, I took William Stafford's advice and announced my withdrawal from acting. Cooking at home every day, arranging flowers, trying to be the perfect Mrs. Stafford. He treated me well, remembered all my likes, and read me stories when I couldn't sleep. I slowly let go of my past shadows, thinking I'd finally found happiness. That kind of life went on for three years. That night, Isabelle Scott won the Best Actress award for a film, and the entire internet was celebrating. I was sitting in the living room watching the award ceremony live. William said he was going to hang out with friends and would be back later. I waited for him until midnight, then went to the study to make him a cup of tea to help him sober up. I had just reached the study door when I heard voices inside. It was William Stafford and his friend Simon Chow. "The move you pulled with Grace Scott back then was seriously risky." Simon's voice sounded amused. I froze on the spot, my heart suddenly tightening. "If I hadn't done that, how would the investor have given the leading actress role to Isabelle Scott?" William's voice was calm, but it stabbed me like a knife. "Aren't you afraid Grace will find out?" "She trusts me so much, she won't suspect me." "In the end, it was all for Isabelle, wasn't it? After all these years, was your kindness to Grace just an act?"