Tiffany Lynch was already notorious for using backstage connections, only owing her "royalty" status on the show to the editing and hype of the production team, which placed the title on Hannah Winter’s head.
If Tiffany suddenly switched classes now, it would be equivalent to exposing her true "royal" identity.
Naturally, Tiffany understood this, but she was unwilling to accept it.
She resented that Hannah stood at a higher place than she did, resented looking up to her.
That was why she wanted to discuss this matter with George River.
Since she could not achieve it now, she had to swallow her resentnt whole.
"It’s okay, George, I don’t mind being in Class F. Even if I get mocked or targeted, I believe that I can shine no matter where I am."
She lowered her head and recited these lines as if they were lines of a script.
She pinpointed the man’s weakness perfectly.
Indeed, upon hearing these words, George couldn’t help but feel pity for her.
His voice was gentle and apologetic, "I’m sorry, Tiffany, I’ll make up for it by getting you more resources from the advertisers."
Tiffany Lynch: "Thank you, George, but I don’t really need it, others should have a chance too."
George River chuckled: "You’re too kind, Tiffany. What I offer is yours, just take it. This is a competition; being too kind will allow others to take advantage of you. Listen to , soone will notify you tomorrow."
Tiffany gave a shy smile and gently replied, "Okay."
After hanging up the phone.
The tenderness and shyness on Tiffany’s face instantly evaporated, leaving behind a bitter, mocking smile. She handed the phone to Joan King, "Find a way to keep Hannah off the the song stage, understand?"
At this mont, Tiffany was nothing like the elegant and aloof Eldest Miss she normally portrayed, her eyes were sharp and filled with animosity.
Almost like two different people.
Joan King’s hand trembled, almost dropping the phone, she cautiously asked, "What do you an?"
Tiffany looked at her, frowned, and disdainfully wiped the spot that Joan had touched with a tissue.
Joan’s face turned awkward, inwardly uncomfortable, but maintained a flattering expression externally.
Tiffany casually tossed the tissue into a nearby trash bin, her expression gloomy, "Aren’t you in charge of the costus for the the song? Just stick a rusty nail in her shoe."
Joan was shocked, then listened as Tiffany said more, "Rember, it must be a rusty nail."
A rusty nail piercing the skin was more than just a simple injury.
Joan never thought that Tiffany, who usually seed gentle, could harbor such intense hatred.
Seeing Joan’s hesitation, Tiffany sneered, "Why are you panicking? She won’t die. When Hannah gets injured, you just need to tell the producers to give the center position, understood?"
Joan hesitated, "But..."
Tiffany lost her patience, "Don’t worry, there will be benefits for you. You should know the relationship between and Director River, you will not be treated unfairly."
Director River had indeed offered a very attractive deal to win over Joan.
For Joan, who was drowning in debt, the temptation was too great to resist, and she couldn’t afford to offend Tiffany Lynch.
She could only grit her teeth and agree, "Miss Lynch, don’t worry. I will follow your instructions."
Tiffany gave a mild smile, lifted her chin high, looking proud, "That’s more like it."
Though George was helpful to her, it’s a pity that n are always pretentious, saying one thing and doing another.
They consider too much.
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