A slap ca right at her, her cheek burning with pain, almost with full force.
There was a mont of silence in the studio, followed by Tiffany Lynch’s shrill and icy voice, "Bitch, who gave you permission to talk to like that!"
With her costu on, it was hard for a mont to tell whether Tiffany Lynch was still in character or speaking her truth.
But Sophie Taylor’s facial injury was real.
She had had surgery on her face years ago and always had to be careful even when touching it. Now that she had been slapped so fiercely, of course, she had to hit back.
Soon the two of them were directly wrestling with each other.
Pulling hair, tugging clothes, scratching faces, they hardly looked like sought-after actresses, more like little hooligans throwing a fit on the street.
The set was a complete ss; various pieces of equipnt had been knocked over, and even those who tried to break up the fight ended up with a good number of scratches and wounds on their faces.
The director, who had just stepped outside for a mont to catch his breath with a smoke at the road’s side, was quickly called back in, and nearly ran out of breath seeing the two clinging to each other’s hair without any intention of letting go.
"What the hell is this! If I knew this day would co, I would never have been greedy for that bit of money from Jimmy Simmons! Instead of finding an ancestor, I’ve invited a curse!"
Crouched on the ground, the director smoked and wiped away tears, occasionally smashing a few things in a fit of emotion.
Looking up again at the two still not letting go, he simply rolled his eyes and collapsed onto the ground.
It was said that when the ambulance arrived later, the director kept repeating one sentence,"I’m done filming, I’m done, no amount of money could make film again..."
After this farce, both Tiffany Lynch’s and Sophie Taylor’s faces were badly injured, especially Sophie Taylor, with her nose and chin askew.
Rumours said it would take a long ti to recover in the hospital, and who knew how much the subsequent maintenance costs would add up to.
Tiffany Lynch didn’t end up much better, her face marked with several scratches, bleeding on the spot, now not even makeup could cover them up.
Looking at her wretched reflection in the mirror, especially the dozen or so bloodstains on her cheeks and neck.
Furious, Tiffany Lynch swung her arm, smashing the makeup on the table.
Bottles and jars shattered together, the ground a complete ss.
The assistant was frightened out of her wits, but didn’t dare move an inch, keeping her head down in silence.
"Bitch! Bitch! How dare she touch my face!" Tiffany Lynch was on the brink of madness, her eyes red, her face so twisted she looked like a demon crawling out of hell.
"Comparing to Hannah Winter, in what way am I inferior to her? What does she have besides a face? So what if I stole the role, once I’ve taken it, it’s mine!"
"Hannah Winter, why must you oppose , why wherever I go, there’s always you—where exactly is Tiffany Lynch inferior to you!"
"Co out, co out! Didn’t you say you could help kill Hannah Winter, roll out here for !"
Staring intently at her own reflection in the mirror, tears stread down her eyes, blurring her eyeliner and foundation, making her look even more terrifying.
The assistant clutched her own clothes tightly, and after recovering her wits, she sneered inwardly.
You’re indeed not as good as Hannah Winter. At least she can act and doesn’t play the demon like you. She’s much better than you.
The assistant had thought that with Tiffany Lynch’s assistant missing, she might get a raise.
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