Woody Harrison scoffed, "What, thinking of riding soone’s coattails to get ahead?"
John Lynch’s body stiffened as if a secret had been poked.
Woody Harrison snickered, tapping John Lynch’s head repeatedly with disdain in his tone, "Look at yourself, a guy who can barely afford school, too poor to even buy decent clothes, do you think you’re worthy?"
With those words, others started laughing too.
So were mocking, so disdainful, others disgusted.
One after another, they pushed John Lynch, who stood in the corner, until he fell to the ground, then walked away laughing.
Throughout the ordeal, John Lynch remained silent, as if he had beco accustod to such targeting.
Immobile like a puppet.
Enduring all the targeting and the abuse.
He had no backing, and his abilities didn’t stand out, except for his face, he indeed had little to boast about.
He truly was short on money, very short.
The burden of life weighed on him like the lamp hanging in a dilapidated house, a lamp that could never bring light.
Until he saw Hannah’s performance on TV.
Could soone really live so freely and confidently?
It had taken him three years to finally grasp this opportunity... He couldn’t miss it.
So, he had to endure.
*
In the dressing room, Hayes Edwards was leaning on the desk, looking up at Hannah sitting opposite him.
She was checking her makeup in the mirror.
Long eyebrows, slightly upturned eyelashes, a high nose, and bright red lips.
Flawless and exquisite in every way.
"Can you stop admiring that face of yours? Haven’t you gotten tired of it after more than twenty years?" Hayes Edwards couldn’t help but grumble.
Hannah continued to focus on the mirror, adjusting a diamond earring dangling below her ear, "This face of mine, I never tire of it. Besides, who gets tired of looking at themselves?"
She put down the mirror, smiled slightly, and countered Hayes, "Do you get tired of looking at yourself?"
Over more than a year, Hayes had only dyed his hair black, with no other noticeable changes.
His career had progressed well, making him a regular on a variety show, a staple in the top tier.
At her question, Hayes cleared his throat and flicked his head in a particularly flamboyant manner, "Of course, I don’t get tired."
While speaking, he grabbed Hannah’s mirror from her hands.
Looking at himself in the mirror, he was even more engrossed than Hannah.
"By the way, what did you send the staff mber to do just now?"
Without her mirror, Hannah casually took out her phone to text Arnold Simmons, sparing a mont to answer Hayes, "Break up a fight."
Break up a fight?
Hayes thought for a while before he realized, "You usually don’t seem like the type to ddle in others’ affairs."
Hannah looked up at him, her lips curving up slightly, "I like to now."
"Alright, you like it, that’s what matters," Hayes shrugged, "Do you even know who was in that dressing room, ddling like that?"
"I don’t know." Hannah continued to focus on texting Arnold, sending him a particularly cute emoji,
The emoji was a chubby orange cat with a particularly haughty expression.
Arnold saw it and replied with two words.
—Like you.
Hannah scrutinized it and then made a comparison.
Sowhat annoyed.
—Are you saying I’ve gained weight?
This ti, there was no emoji, just sulking.
In the conference room, the eting had been over for a while, and everyone had already left.
Only three people were still seated in their original places, unmoved.
Arnold Simmons, Thomas Sanders, male assistant.
The assistant was organizing the key points of the eting today.
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