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2
I was just an agent for a Superstar Actress, but after a chance meeting at a dinner party, he began to pursue me relentlessly.
He sent me flowers and food, and even drove me to and from work.
I was just a young girl back then, and his sweet talk easily won me over.
After we started dating, he began bringing me onto film sets, lining up opportunities and getting me small parts here and there.
I genuinely thought he was doing it for my own good.
After all, his exact words were, "Elara, if you work hard and become a Superstar Actress, then we'll be on equal footing."
At the time, I didn't even realize how strange that sounded.
Later, he brought me along for a cameo in a rural drama. One day, as filming was about to wrap up, the crew was getting ready to shoot the final scene, pack up, and head out.
Nearly all the other actors had already left for a nearby hotel.
In the farmhouse courtyard, only Quentin Stratton remained, intending to finish his last scene before calling it a day.
But after countless takes, he just couldn't get into character for the scene.
I was quietly keeping him company from the side when I noticed something off about the nearby propane tank out of the corner of my eye.
Before I could even react.
BANG— The propane tank exploded, the blast deafening.
I was right next to Quentin Stratton, and my first instinct was to push him away with all my might.
But the force of the push sent me stumbling backward uncontrollably.
I fell straight back, toward the propane tank.
Through the flames, I could dimly see Quentin Stratton and the crew standing frozen outside, but not a single person dared to come forward and save me.
The heat around me grew more and more intense until I finally couldn't bear it and lost consciousness.
...
When I woke up again, I was in the hospital.
The acrid smell of disinfectant was overwhelming.
I forced my eyes open a crack. My mouth was so dry I couldn't make a sound.
My body ached, too; there were sharp pains all over.
Part of my face was also searing with pain.
I had just managed to turn my head a little when I saw Quentin Stratton and his Agent at the door to my room.
They were standing there, talking.
His Agent sighed. "The doctor said Elara Sterling's injuries will heal over time, but... she'll be left with such a large scar on her face. What's going to happen to her acting career?"
'A scar on my face? Am I disfigured?'
My heart sank, and a wave of grief washed over me.
"It doesn't matter," a nonchalant voice drawled. It was Quentin Stratton. "It's a good thing she was the one who got burned, not me."
My heart plummeted.
'What did he mean by that?'
His Agent said nothing.
He continued, "I was the one who brought her into this business in the first place. If she can't make it anymore because she's disfigured, that has nothing to do with me."
I thought I must have misheard him. I stared at him in utter disbelief, my eyes wide with shock.
He didn't notice me, but his Agent seemed unable to listen any longer. "But she did it to save you..."
"Mm," he said, his tone still nonchalant. "I suppose I should thank her. She took the hit for me."
His Agent frowned, about to say something else.
He cut her off. "Besides, she was never good enough for me anyway. There was never going to be a future for a nobody and The Superstar. The only reason I was with her was for her looks. If anything, I was doing her a favor."
...
