Evander’s POV
I had planned to keep the act going. It was the only way I could get Claire to hear out since she’d refused to speak with after our last conversation. But when Damian interrupted us, clapping loudly and breaking the mont, I clenched my fists in frustration. I really wanted to punch him for his foolish timing.
However, my irritation started to fade when he praised Claire for her exceptional acting. The pride in her eyes, mixed with the slight confusion on her face, made it hard to stay mad. She deserved every bit of the praise he was showering her with. But just as I was beginning to relax, Damian opened his big mouth again, this ti directing the conversation toward .
He started embarrassing , recounting every detail of my admiration for Claire over the years. He didn’t hold back, ntioning how I had collected every magazine she appeared in and watched even her smallest roles countless tis. My cheeks burned with humiliation as I saw Claire’s stunned expression. She looked caught between disbelief and awkwardness.
And then, Damian crossed the line.
"Claire, would you mind signing an autograph for ? Actually, I should say for Evander here." He grinned mischievously. "It’s a promise I made him a year ago."
I wanted to disappear. A year ago, when I had drunkenly confessed to Damian that Claire was my favorite person and I liked her, he had made so ridiculous promise to get her autograph for soday. I hadn’t taken him seriously, but now he was using it to tornt .
Claire’s cheeks turned pink as she processed his words. She hesitated, clearly unsure of how to react. I could see her glancing at out of the corner of her eye, debating whether or not to go through with it. I opened my mouth to say sothing, to stop this madness, but before I could, the door to the audition room swung open.
"Evan! You are here too?"
That voice. That annoyingly familiar, high-pitched voice that annoyed even more.
I turned toward the source, my blood boiling instantly. There she was, striding into the room as if she owned the place, her overly cheerful tone making my stomach churn.
"Susan," I muttered under my breath, forcing myself to stay calm. Of all people, why did she have to show up now?
Susan’s bright smile didn’t falter as she walked closer. "Are you here to visit ? It’s been ages! I didn’t think you would be here today. What a pleasant surprise!"
I gritted my teeth, feeling my irritation spike. Ages? I had just seen her yesterday! And since when had I ever been to the audition hall to visit her? My jaw clenched as I tried to keep my temper in check.
The worst part was Claire’s reaction. She seed completely unfazed by Susan’s arrival. She didn’t flinch. Was she that indifferent to this situation? Or had she already made up her mind about to stay away from ?
"Oh my! Claire! My friend, you are here as well?" Susan exclaid, her fake surprise as thick as her perfu. "Did you et Evander? Have you seen the article? I an... I am sorry I didn’t tell you myself."
Her words hit like a cold slap. Article? What article? What was she even talking about? Was she talking about the ss Damian had made?
I glanced at Claire, hoping for so clue, but her face remained unreadable. That calm, indifferent expression made feel even worse, as though she already believed whatever lies Susan might have been feeding her.
Susan’s overly sweet tone grated on my nerves. The way she emphasized the word "friend" and acted like she was trying to cover up so big secret only made things worse.
My mind started racing. Was this how Susan acted when I wasn’t around? Pretending to be close to , claiming there was sothing between us? Had she been planting seeds of doubt in Claire’s mind all this ti? And I... I had unknowingly played right into her hands with my coldness and mistakes.
I couldn’t help but wonder—was Susan the reason everything between Claire and had made things out of control?
For the first ti, I looked at Susan differently, seeing through her sugary words and exaggerated expressions. There was sothing calculated about her behavior. It wasn’t just an act of friendliness—this was manipulation.
I balled my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to say sothing sharp. But no, not yet. I needed to handle this carefully.
Still, I couldn’t stop myself from glancing at Claire again. She wasn’t reacting to Susan’s words, but that didn’t an she wasn’t affected. I needed to find out what she thought—what she felt—before it was too late, and that mont ca soon.
"Are you talking about the rumor about you being a very special person to Mr. Kensington?" Claire asked calmly, her expression as plain and unreadable as ever. Her tone was polite, almost casual, but there was a sharp edge hidden beneath her words.
Susan’s smile faltered for a split second, but she quickly tried to regain her composure. Before she could respond, Claire continued, her voice carrying just the right amount of concern to sound genuine.
"Well... it must have taken quite a toll on your life," Claire said, tilting her head slightly, "especially since the man involved himself announced that his wife at ho would be angry seeing those articles! I am so sorry that this troubled you."
The room fell silent for a mont, and I couldn’t help but stare at Claire. Her words were like a perfectly aid arrow, sharp and direct, but delivered with an air of innocence that made it impossible to call her out.
"Ex... excuse !?" Susan stamred, her face turning pale as her bright smile finally crumbled.
I had never seen her like this— at a complete loss for words. Susan, who always had sothing to say, always knew how to twist situations to her advantage, was now standing there speechless.
And for the first ti in a long while, I felt... satisfied.
I never cared about petty gossip or social gas, but seeing Susan struggle to keep her facade intact was oddly satisfying. She had been playing her little gas for too long, weaving lies and stirring doubts. This mont felt like justice, even if I wasn’t the one delivering it.
Claire, on the other hand, remained composed, her calm deanor only adding to the impact of her words. She didn’t raise her voice or lash out—she didn’t need to. Every word she said carried weight, and Susan was clearly feeling its full force.
Susan finally opened her mouth to respond, but no sound ca out. Her usual confidence was gone, replaced by a flicker of panic as she glanced at , perhaps looking for so kind of support.
But I didn’t move.
For once, I wasn’t going to step in or save her from the ss she had created. This was her problem, not mine.
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What do you think Susan would do now? And how would Evander react after knowing the truth and seeing it by his own eyes!?
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