Chapter 11 She's Dead
Emma froze as she recognized Michael. Their eyes locked across the conference table, and sitting at the edge, he had a clear view of everyone in the room.
Emma dropped her gaze to her lap, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Michael, however, didn’t miss the fear and unease in her expression. Normally, he wouldn’t care, but something about this girl seemed off.
He hadn’t seen her before. Who was managing her? he wondered.
If she had truly wanted the role so badly that she slept with Brian, why wasn’t she brimming with pride like most actresses would be?
If looks could kill, Emma would have been six feet under by now because her worry came to fruition.
Without hesitation, Michael pointed at her, not knowing her name. Every pair of eyes followed his finger.
Emma trembled, unable to lift her head.
"Wait! Is this some kind of joke?" one of the actresses whispered, disbelief coloring her voice.
It made sense that Sammy might have been chosen, but this girl? They were only just noticing her existence.
Emma bit her lower lip as the surrounding whispers grew sharper with disapproval and jealousy.
"I’ll leave the rest to you, Director," Michael said, his tone final. Ignoring the women, he turned and left the room.
The director knew nothing could change Brian’s decision. Looking at Emma, he saw a beauty that rivaled any of the women present, innocent yet captivating. He smiled softly. These kinds of girls were magnetic, the type that could shine effortlessly on screen.
With those thoughts in mind, he concluded the meeting and asked Emma to follow him, shielding her from the simmering anger of the other actresses.
\---
That night, Emma returned home, her body still trembling from the day. She shared the news with her mother and siblings, tears flowing freely as she clutched her black cat, Nemo.
Nemo was her only true comfort, the one family member to witness her vulnerability. She buried her face in his soft fur, whispering everything that had happened. Though not human, he seemed to understand, allowing her to cuddle him until she drifted into exhausted sleep.
\---
A week later, Emma was in the agency’s studio, preparing for the indoor shoot alongside Sammy, who had unexpectedly agreed to take the second female lead.
Emma felt a twinge of discomfort as a young assistant, likely nineteen or twenty helped her prepare. Sammy had offered her help, despite Emma insisting she could manage herself. Emma had reluctantly accepted, unsure of the unspoken motives behind the gesture.
Dressed casually in a pink tank top adorned with a SpongeBob print, black knee-length trousers, and her hair in twin ponytails, Emma looked like an ordinary girl amid a sea of glamorous women. The plan was deliberate: make her appear approachable, draw Brian’s cast attention, and ignite jealousy among the others.
Sammy watched from the corner, gritting her teeth. Emma was stunning, too stunning to be ignored.
‘How dare that girl stay in the same room with me’! Sammy seethed internally, but she had chosen this setup intentionally for her own scheming.
Emma accepted a bottle of water from the assistant, taking a sip before her nude lipstick was applied, carefully maintaining a natural look. She soon started to feel slightly off, but shook it off.
Today is a big day for her, so she assumes anxiety is messing with her.
\---
At the photo studio.
Brian entered, dressed in blue jeans and a black shirt, silver hair tousled, light makeup accentuating his sharp features. His effortless smile and casual demeanor made him look both breathtaking and approachable.
He was practicing his script as he got prepared for the photoshoot for the cover of the movie.
Emma’s nerves flared, but Brian’s calm presence eased them. She watched him move around, changing outfits, preparing for the shoot with a casual efficiency that made her feel both intimidated and comforted.
Soon it was their turn. Emma still felt uneasy and for some reason her concentration started to jarr but she pushed on, hoping to get it over with as soon as possible and leave to check on herself.
During a couple shoot, Emma clutched onto Brian tightly after a camera flash left her vision momentarily blurred. He frowned, assuming she was trying to cling to him deliberately.
She was instructed to lightly hug his waistline and rest her head against his arm, but now, her grip tightened, beads of perspiration forming on her forehead.
Charlotte was conspicuously absent, leaving Emma vulnerable under the watchful eyes of the crew.
"Miss Emma, you don’t have to hold him so tight," the cameraman cautioned, but Brian’s patience had reached its limit.
He forcibly pried her arms away, about to step back, when suddenly, there was a loud thud.
Emma collapsed, her body limp on the studio floor. Shock froze everyone in place, except for Sammy and her crew. Sammy smirked, typing calmly on her phone, confident that the poison she had administered would take effect without detection.
"Hey! Are you okay?" Brian shouted, kneeling beside her.
No response. Her lips were pale, her cheeks flushed unnaturally.
The cameraman stepped closer, concern etched across his face.
Brian pressed his ear to her chest.
"Is she breathing?!" the cameraman asked urgently.
"She’s stopped breathing, damn it!" Brian yelled, refusing to give up. He swept Emma into his arms in a princess carry, ignoring the astonished onlookers, and sprinted out of the studio.
He couldn’t believe it. How could someone who has made him a mess for the past days just died without a warning sign.