The world hated me, but Hollywood had a script it wanted me to play. In it, I was cast opposite Ethan Cole, the golden boy of the silver screen. We were to play a couple teetering on the edge of divorce, two souls torn apart by heartbreak and betrayal who, against all odds, find their way back to each other. A second chance. A story of redemption. No one on set knew the irony. In real life, Ethan and I were secretly married. And we hadn't spoken a civil word to each other in years. The day we wrapped, I went home to our cold, empty house. But he was there, a shadow in the darkness, and his arms wrapped around me from behind. "Whatever you did back then," he whispered, his voice thick with a history I no longer wanted, "the betrayal… I'm willing to forget it. We can—" His words were cut off by the sharp ping of a notification. Another headline, another picture of Ethan with his new girlfriend splashed across the gossip sites. The ninth one this year. I pushed him away. "Let's get a divorce, Ethan." He didn't understand. The day he let the world crucify me to save himself, our story ended. There was no coming back from that. Our broken pieces could never be glued back together. So why, then, was he sitting in the front row, tears streaming down his face, the night I finally walked on stage to accept my award? 1 The first day on set, I saw him before he saw me. Ethan Cole was locked in a passionate embrace with his latest girlfriend, Chloe, right by the trailers. It was a full-blown, movie-style kiss, a performance for an audience of none. Or so they thought. I watched them, a dull ache in my chest where a storm used to rage. She wasn't the first. She wouldn't be the last. The first time he brought a woman home, I had shattered, screamed, even hurt myself in a desperate, pathetic attempt to shock him back into our marriage. All I did was push him further away. Liam, the director, was walking me through the production schedule when Ethan’s face suddenly appeared in my line of sight. My breath caught. He wasn't just dropping Chloe off. Liam, oblivious, beamed at us. "I don't think you two have formally met! Ava, this is Ethan Cole. Ethan, Ava Reed. You're my leads." He then waved Chloe over. "And this is my little sister, Chloe. She’s playing your rival, Ava. I know you'll all take good care of her!" A cold knot formed in my stomach. I glanced at Ethan. His face was a mask of polite confusion. He hadn't known either. My agent, Maya, shot me an apologetic look from across the lot. I had no idea it was them, she mouthed. I took a slow, steadying breath and gave her a small nod. It’s fine. Let them come. I wasn't the one who should be hiding. Chloe bounced over, linking her arm through her brother’s. "So, did you finally come to your senses and make me the lead, big bro?" Liam playfully rolled his eyes. "With your acting skills? You're barely ready for a guest spot. I want this film to actually sell tickets." She pouted, retreating into Ethan’s arms for comfort. "She’s just some nobody who slept her way to the top. What's so special about her? I'll be way bigger than her one day…" Her voice was a stage whisper, designed to be heard. My jaw tightened. I waited, a foolish part of me hoping Ethan would defend me, even a little. He just chuckled, stroking her hair. "Of course you will, babe. You'll be a thousand times the star she is." In that moment, it felt like a thousand tiny needles piercing my heart. The boy who once picked fights with anyone who dared to speak ill of me was gone. In his place was a man who would casually join in on the gossip himself. 2 During our first scene together, I couldn't find my focus. The script demanded I look at him with a mix of love and resentment, but all I felt was a cold, clinical distance. I didn’t want to see his face. I’m sure the feeling was mutual. "Cut!" Liam yelled for the fifth time. During the break, I sat in my chair, trying to quiet the storm in my mind. Memories kept ambushing me. Years ago, we were nobodies, just two more faces in the crowd on sprawling studio lots. We were extras, background players, sharing the same impossible dream. That shared struggle forged a bond between us, and it wasn't long before he used a scene from a cheesy medieval fantasy series to confess his feelings for me. "We might be background players in this world," he’d said, looking earnest and ridiculous in his pageboy costume, "but in my heart, you're the only leading lady." I couldn't help but laugh. He got flustered. "You don't believe me? I'm going to make it, Ava. I swear. And I'm going to give you everything." That day, surrounded by a hundred other extras, we felt like the stars of the whole show. "A pageboy getting married?" I teased. His eyes lit up with a familiar spark. "Just wait 'til tonight. I'll show you what this pageboy can do." … My thoughts scattered as I saw Chloe dabbing sweat from Ethan’s brow, cooing over him. He leaned into her touch, soaking it up. "Her acting is atrocious," Chloe was saying, loud enough for me to hear. "How many takes for one simple scene? And they call her a Starlight Award winner. I wonder how many directors she had to sleep with for that. My brother must have been blind to cast her." I pretended not to hear, my nails digging into my palms. Liam, seeing that Ethan and I were a lost cause for the moment, decided to move up a scene between me and Chloe. The cameras rolled. Before I could even get my line out, Chloe’s hand cracked across my face. A real, stinging slap. I stumbled back, my cheek burning, and stared at her in disbelief. "The scene is about her trying to steal my man," Chloe announced to the crew, her voice dripping with self-satisfaction. "I felt adding a slap would make it feel more authentic." A production assistant helped me up. Fury pulsed through me. "Stick to the damn script," I said, my voice shaking. She scoffed. "It's called improvisation. It's what real actors do. Maybe you should try it instead of relying on your stale, robotic techniques." The set descended into chaos. Liam rushed over to mediate. After a quick touch-up from makeup, we reset for another take. This time, I was ready. I channeled all my anger into the performance, and in the raw energy of the scene, she was clearly outmatched. She was losing control. Frustrated, she suddenly shoved me, hard. Caught completely off guard, I fell backward, the back of my head hitting the unforgiving concrete floor with a sickening thud. A warm, wet sensation spread through my hair. Blood. Through a dizzying haze, I saw Chloe shrink into Ethan’s arms. "It wasn't me… I barely touched her…" Ethan’s voice cut through the fog, sharp and clear. "Don't worry, I saw it. It was her own fault. She threw herself backward. She's always been good at faking it." He paused, his voice laced with venom. "If she died, it'd be no great loss." A shocked silence fell over the crew. Liam finally broke it, his eyes wide with confusion. "Ethan… Do you two know each other?" 3 Know each other? We were husband and wife. We still were. It was a secret we'd kept buried for years. Few people even knew we'd once had a love story so bright it could have lit up a city. But we were small-town kids then, nobodies. And the love stories of nobodies rarely make it into the spotlight. On our wedding day, I made a wish that in five years, we’d still be as happy as we were in that moment. Well, I’d held on, refusing to sign divorce papers, dragging our marriage to its five-year anniversary. But the happiness was long gone. He hadn’t come home in years. Our marriage was a ghost. I woke up in a sterile white hospital room. The crew had gathered around my bed, their faces a blur of concerned expressions. My eyes scanned the room, searching, hoping… but Ethan wasn't there. A familiar wave of disappointment washed over me. What did you expect, Ava? After the crowd dispersed, I picked up my phone. No calls. No texts. Nothing from him. I remembered a time, early in our careers, when I was working as a stunt double. A lead actress had accidentally scratched my face with her long nails, drawing a thin line of blood. Ethan had lost his mind, screaming at her until he was red in the face, ready to burn the whole set down just to defend my honor. Now, his new girlfriend could send me to the hospital, and he couldn't be bothered to send a single, perfunctory text. My head throbbed. I was about to put the phone down when a push notification lit up the screen. #AvaReed Injured on Set, Co-star Chloe Miller Implicated #AvaReed Rushed to Hospital #Production Halted on 'An Echo of Us' I clicked on a link. The comments section was filled with supportive fans, many of whom had already descended upon Chloe's social media accounts with a vengeance. But one comment, pinned near the top, caught my eye. [Don't fall for her act. This is a woman who would do anything for fame. You really think this isn't a publicity stunt for the new movie?] I knew that username. It was Ethan’s burner account. He despised me. We had created those secret accounts together, years ago, laughing about how we’d use them to be each other’s biggest fans, our own private hype-squad. He was using it, just as we’d planned. Just not in the way I’d ever imagined. My fans fought back, and soon, his callous comment was trending too. Exhausted, I fell into a restless sleep. Maya woke me up later, carrying a container of soup. She fidgeted, looking hesitant. "Ava… did you see the news?" I assumed she meant the articles about my injury. I nodded. She let out a strange sigh of relief. "Oh, good. I was worried you'd be upset when he made it official with Chloe…" The spoon in my hand clattered against the tray. With a shaking hand, I grabbed my phone. It was the number one trending topic in the country. #EthanCole: 'Chloe Miller is My Girlfriend' Something inside me, something I didn't even know was still intact, quietly shattered. He’d had so many women over the years, but he’d never, ever gone public. Was he serious about her? Or was this just a desperate move to bury the negative press about my "accident"? I didn't know. A memory surfaced, unbidden. Five years ago, his words whispered in the dark: "If I ever go public with someone, Ava, it will only ever be you." I managed a bitter smile. Some promises just weren’t meant to be kept. 4 After three days, I was back on set. My old friend, Noah Sterling, a director I’d worked with before, stopped by to check on me. "Coffee and pastries for the hardest working crew in Hollywood!" he announced, charming everyone instantly. The crew buzzed with speculation. "Ava, what's the story with you and Director Sterling? I heard he never visits sets." "Yeah, he's handsome, rich, and was voted 'Sexiest Man Alive' by that online poll! Are you two an item?" I just smiled, unsure of what to say. Noah handed me a thermos. "I made this for you. Bone broth. You need to recover." The teasing from the crew grew louder. "Ooh, is a big announcement coming? Are you two going Instagram official tonight?" "Guess that means the on-screen couple is officially doomed in real life, since both our leads are taken now!" Noah paused, a tray of croissants in his hand. "What do you mean?" Maya quickly filled him in. "You don't spend enough time online, Noah. That one over there..." His gaze followed her gesture to where Ethan and Chloe were busy doing a live stream, projecting an image of perfect love for their followers. As Noah approached, Ethan looked up, a smirk playing on his lips. "Still hanging around her after all these years, Sterling? Haven't you two made it official yet?" He let out a cold, humorless laugh. "Then again, after what she did… I guess even you think she’s too dirty to touch, right?" Before the words had even fully settled, Noah’s fist connected with Ethan’s jaw. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Noah snarled, his voice trembling with rage. "If it wasn't for Ava, you wouldn't even have a career today! You ungrateful piece of shit, parading your little flings in front of her!"
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