Chapter 40 The Superstar (2)

Back at the accommodations, I saw the other show guests.

When I walked in, one of them, Prenda, smirked coldly and said, "Some dogs don’t know their place, sticking around like gum you just can’t get rid of."

Her persona on the show was "straightforward and blunt," but in reality, it just meant she lacked tact.

On the surface, she was talking about dogs, but the insult was aimed at me.

Having been in the industry for over a decade, I wasn’t about to take that lying down.

"Dogs don’t know much. They like someone, so they approach them. But there are always those with twisted morals who mistake sincerity for shamelessness. Why? Because their hearts are filthy, their eyes see the world as filthy too."

After a pause, I asked her, "Don’t you agree, Prenda?"

Everyone mocked the real Emily, calling her a fanatical stalker, despising and belittling her.

But what had she done wrong?

All she did was share her affection for Morton with the world.

"Emily, what’s that supposed to mean? Everyone knows you spent eight years chasing after the movie star, and he couldn’t even be bothered to spare you a glance!" Prenda raised her voice.

I scooped up a tiny puppy trembling from the cold, cradling its soft little body as I shot her a sidelong glance, "Not anymore."

On the way back, I found the puppy in a trash can. It was so small and soft, barking at me pitifully. Who could resist?

Prenda let out a derisive laugh as if I had just told the world’s funniest joke, "I bet you… a dog like you can’t help but ......"

She suddenly froze mid-sentence, her eyes fixed on something behind me.

Morton stood in the shadows, his eyes slightly narrowed, lost in thought. It was unclear how long he had been standing there.

Prenda laughed awkwardly, "Morton, I wasn’t talking about you ......"

"She called you shit."

I said, finishing her sentence for her.

"I didn’t say that!" Prenda glared at me.

"Oh, I just helped you finish it."

The tension lingered until a staff member stepped in to diffuse the situation.

"Prenda, please head to the wardrobe for your costume change. The performance will begin shortly," the staff member said.

I froze for a moment.

It was only then that I remembered just the day before I arrived, the teams had been randomly assigned to perform an impromptu performance based on a program set by the directors.

And the real Emily had been paired with Morton.

Their task was to recreate a classic scene from Morton and Anna’s new movie.

In the scene, the heroine, dressed in white, sits gracefully on a high platform, playing a luminescent harp. Her delicate fingers bring forth an enchanting melody that captivates all who hear it.

Drawn irresistibly by the music, the hero leaps forward, lifting the heroine’s veil in one smooth motion.

The plot might be cliché, but the beauty of the imagery makes it unforgettable.