The male lead had bullied her; ripped her howork, spilled paint all over her prom dress, and even posted her ugly photos on the school forum.
Yet the female lead still tried to understand him because ... he grew up in an abusive household and "didn’t know right from wrong."
Oh, typical. Very typical.
Lando and I didn’t turn into rotten people even after going through so many hardships in our lives.
This male lead definitely had the potential to beco a demon since he was born.
"Young Madam, I brought you so tea and snacks," Henry said.
I stopped pacing when I heard his voice. He walked toward carrying a tray with a warm cup of tea and a few macarons.
Damn it. I really loved macarons!
I’d seen those sweet treats yesterday but avoided them because I wasn’t sure if my body could handle sothing sugary yet.
But now Henry brought those devilish little desserts himself!
Still, it was a sweet gesture, so of course, I was grateful.
"Oh my, Henry, thank you so much!" I said with a bright smile. "I was just about to go inside to grab a drink."
He placed the tray on the garden table and returned my smile. "You’ve been outside for two hours, Young Madam," he said. "It might be better if you go back in before the sun gets too hot."
I checked my watch and saw it was still only nine. "Of course. I’ll go inside around ten," I sighed.
Henry nodded in response and was about to head back inside when I suddenly called out, "Wait, Henry! Can I ask you sothing?"
"Of course, Young Madam." He imdiately turned around, looking curious. "What is it?"
I grinned from ear to ear. "Let drive the golf cart!"
The female lead’s character was seriously stressing out, so I needed to release my frustration with sothing fun before having to act like her later.
Drinking first thing in the morning would be a terrible idea, so I decided to settle for sothing safer and more fun instead: driving the golf cart.
"Do you know how to drive a car, Young Madam?" Henry asked, a little worried.
I tilted my head with a smile. "No, but a golf cart isn’t a real car, right? It looks easy enough to handle."
And just like I thought, it was easy! I only had to press the gas and brake pedals. With the manor being so huge, I could drive around freely without worrying about hitting anything.
But for so reason, Henry wouldn’t stop panicking beside .
"Young Madam, you’re going too fast!"
"Young Madam, slow down when you turn!"
Honestly, he sounded more nervous than a GPS with trust issues.
"Henry, relax!" I said while laughing. "This is really fun!"
"Young Madam!" Henry shouted again as I made a sharp turn, narrowly avoiding the pond in front of us. His voice cracked in panic. "Young Master will be furious if he cos ho and finds out you got hurt because of this damn golf cart!"
Instead of slowing down the golf cart, I pressed the gas pedal even harder, making Henry yell again, this ti even louder.
After nearly scaring him half to death, I finally stopped the golf cart right where he had placed my tea and snacks earlier.
"That was so much fun!" I jumped out of the cart, feeling both thrilled and relieved. "I can finally focus on my work now!"
I grabbed the printed script I’d left on the table, finished my warm tea in one go, and took tiny bites of the macaron, careful not to upset my stomach with too much sugar.
"Henry, we should go for another ride later this afternoon!" I said brightly as I watched him struggle to climb out of the golf cart.
"Young Madam," he panted, holding onto the cart for support, "perhaps you should take Young Master with you next ti instead."
"That’s a great idea! I’d definitely take him out for a ride if he wasn’t so busy!" I replied with a grin.
Henry let out a long sigh before straightening his back. "I ... I should get back to work now, Young Madam. Please go inside once the sun gets too hot."
I nodded and waved at him as he walked back toward the manor.
After that, I focused again on my script and decided to practice the scene where the female lead, Mia, was crying and shouting at the male lead out of frustration.
Honestly, she should’ve just shoved the male lead, Dion, into the pond instead of yelling at him.
[Host, please reduce your malicious intent.]
"I know, I know." I waved my hand dismissively.
Besides, she was just a fictional character, so there wasn’t really much I could do about it.
I sighed and flipped through the next few pages of the script, trying to shake off the irritation. "Alright, Mia," I muttered, "let’s see how you plan to cry your way through this one."
The more I read, the more ridiculous the scene beca. But well, an actress’s job was to bring any story to life, no matter how absurd it was.
I stood up, took a deep breath, and started rehearsing the lines out loud. I tried my best to force out so tears, then shouted the dialogue, "Why do you keep doing this to ?! What did I ever do to you?!"
My voice echoed across the garden, blending with the sound of the wind rustling through the trees. I paused for a mont, letting the emotion sink in, before repeating the scene again, this ti with more desperation in my tone.
It felt a little silly to be yelling at an imaginary person, but sohow, it also felt good to let it all out.
But apparently, my crying act looked a little too real, because everyone who passed by gave a worried look.
Before anyone actually started thinking I’d gone insane, I stopped for a mont and wiped my tears away.
"I’m fine! I’m fine!" I said, waving my hands frantically. "Please, don’t tell my husband that his wife has lost her mind!"
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