Lucas stood up, his towering presence making it clear that Caroline had overstayed her welco.
"I think that’s enough for today, Caroline. If you really care about Aurora, you’ll respect her need for peace."
Caroline huffed but forced a smile. "Of course, Lucas. I understand. I’ll co back another ti."
With that, she turned on her heels and walked out, but not before giving Aurora one last lingering glance.
As soon as the door shut, Lucas exhaled, rubbing his temples. "I don’t trust that girl."
Aurora, ntally exhausted, agreed wholeheartedly.
................................
Theodore humd a tune as he strolled into the filming location, adjusting the strap of his bag over his shoulder. The mont he stepped onto the set, however, the atmosphere turned frigid.
"Look who finally decided to show up!" a sharp voice rang out, making Theodore freeze mid-step.
The director, a man in his forties with a perpetually displeased expression, strode towards him with an air of authority.
The bustling crew mbers imdiately quieted, their attention snapping toward the confrontation.
Theodore straightened his posture, feeling the weight of their gazes.
"Do you think this is so kind of playground, Theodore?" the director sneered, arms crossed tightly against his chest.
"Do you have any idea how much your little tardiness costs us? Every second wasted is money down the drain! I should’ve known better than to take a no-na, small-ti actor like you."
Theodore’s face paled slightly, but he forced a polite smile.
"I sincerely apologize, sir. It won’t happen again."
The director scoffed, shaking his head.
"It shouldn’t have happened in the first place! People like you don’t have the luxury of mistakes. Do you think just because you got a lucky break, you’re suddenly important?
You should be the first one here, on your knees if necessary, proving that you’re even worth my ti. But no, here you are, waltzing in like you own the place."
Theodore lowered his gaze, gripping his bag strap tighter.
"I understand, sir. I’ll be more punctual from now on."
The director narrowed his eyes at him before letting out a disdainful huff.
"More punctual? You were already late. One minute late. Do you know what that tells ? That you’re irresponsible. That you don’t respect this production. That you don’t belong here."
One minute late.
Theodore swallowed the retort bubbling up his throat.
He had checked his watch multiple tis before arriving; he was certain that he had barely been a minute off.
But what would arguing accomplish? He knew better than to challenge soone who held his career in the palm of his hand.
"I’ll do better," he said instead, his voice even.
The director smirked, as if satisfied with his submission.
"You better. Otherwise, don’t expect another chance in this industry. Now, get in line for makeup before you hold up the shoot any longer."
Theodore let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and made his way toward the makeup station.
His steps felt heavier now, as if the earlier enthusiasm had been drained from his body.
He took his place behind a few actors waiting for their turn, his fingers tapping against his thigh in silent frustration.
At the makeup station, the head makeup artist—a woman with perfectly styled blonde curls—was currently working on the main actor’s face.
Her hands moved with delicate precision, blending foundation seamlessly into flawless skin, adding just the right amount of contour to enhance his already striking features.
"You’re going to look divine on cara, darling," she cooed, her voice honeyed.
"This role was made for you."
The actor preened under the attention, flashing her a dazzling smile. "Well, I do try."
Theodore waited patiently, watching as she ticulously adjusted every minute detail of the actor’s look.
Ten minutes passed.
Then twenty.
When the actor was finally finished and stepped away, the makeup artist turned her attention to Theodore, and instantly, her entire deanor shifted.
Her polite smile dropped into sothing bordering on disinterest. "Sit."
Theodore obeyed, settling into the chair.
Before he could even adjust himself properly, she had already begun applying foundation—hastily, with none of the care she had shown the actor before him.
Her brush strokes were rough, almost careless, as if she were simply going through the motions rather than treating him as a legitimate client.
"Hold still," she snapped when he instinctively flinched as the bristles scratched against his skin. "If you keep moving, you’ll just make my job harder."
Theodore clamped his mouth shut, forcing himself to remain still.
He felt the cool press of powder against his cheek, the quick drag of a brush along his jawline.
No blending, no adjustnts. Just the bare minimum effort.
After barely two minutes, she took a step back, exhaling sharply. "Alright, done. Go."
Theodore blinked. That was it? He glanced at the mirror, his brows furrowing.
The foundation was uneven, making his skin look patchy under the harsh lights.
His under-eye area, where a slight exhaustion lingered, had barely been covered.
It was obvious she hadn’t even attempted to enhance his features—just a quick, dismissive application, enough to make him passable on cara but nowhere near as refined as the other actors.
He turned back to the makeup artist, hesitating. "Uh... would you mind—"
She rolled her eyes.
"Listen, I have real actors to work on, okay? If you want special treatnt, you should try actually making a na for yourself first. Now, move along."
The words stung more than Theodore cared to admit. But he smiled anyway, ignoring the heavy lump forming in his throat.
"Right. Of course. Thanks."
He got up and walked away, suppressing the urge to wipe his face clean right then and there.
As he moved toward the set, he caught a few crew mbers whispering, throwing him pitiful glances.
He clenched his fists.
His role was an insignificant one in the movie, but he didn’t know why the director was so harsh to him.
He had dealt with difficult directors before, but this one seed a bit too difficult.
’It’s alright, Theo. The day you beco famous, you can kick their ass!’ He consoled himself.
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