Chapter 3
Olivia's POV
I woke to my phone being bombarded with push notifications.
"SHOCKING! Oscar Rising Star Suspected of Sleeping Her Way to the Top!"
"EXCLUSIVE: How Olivia Martinez 'Conquered' Producer Ryan Blackwood"
"Insider Sources Reveal: 'Beneath the Truth' Leading Lady Pre-Selected, Auditions Just for Show"
I scrolled through viciously, each article implying I'd traded sex for the role. Damn you, Victoria, you BITCH really pulled out all the stops.
My phone rang—Ryan's name flashing on screen.
"Seen those bullshit headlines?" His voice sounded tired, with obvious anger.
"Saw them. Spectacular enough to make me puke." I sneered, rolling my eyes.
"I've contacted PR to handle it, but what's most important now is..."
"Slapping them in the face HARD." I interrupted, grinding my teeth. "When do auditions start?"
"Two hours. Olivia, don't let that garbage affect you. Your role isn't in question."
Hanging up, I walked to my closet. Today wasn't just about proving my acting—it was about publicly humiliating those doubters. Let them see what real talent looks like.
The Universal Studios audition room was thick with tension so palpable you could cut it. Dozens of actresses sat in the waiting area, all wearing perfect makeup, eyes burning with desire for the lead role.
Many gave me complicated looks when I entered. Some shot sympathetic glances, others seemed gleeful at my misfortune, and some showed naked jealousy and contempt.
They all think I'll get kicked out because of the scandal. What a bunch of idiots.
I deliberately chose the most conspicuous seat, elegantly crossing my legs and opening the "Beneath the Truth" script. Though I knew this audition was only happening because Victoria spread those rumors, I wasn't worried at all. I'm an Oscar winner.
"Oh my, sister, heard you've been busy lately—busy having 'deep collaborations' with big producers."
That voice was like nails on a chalkboard. I looked up to see Chloe in an expensive Chanel suit, smugly standing before me. Her makeup artist had clearly spared no expense, but it still couldn't hide her naturally plain features.
Several actresses turned to watch the drama unfold, some even secretly recording on their phones. Chloe had obviously chosen this moment to cause trouble.
"Yes, I'm discussing real collaboration." I didn't look up from my script. "Unlike some people who only daydream."
"Daydream?" Chloe's voice sharpened. "Olivia, you don't really think those little tricks will solve everything, do you? Acting ability isn't something you learn by rolling around in bed."
The makeup room fell dead silent. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the show.
I slowly closed my script, stood up, and elegantly smoothed my dress. Then I turned to face Chloe, a cold smile playing on my lips.
"Chloe, jealousy really does make people ugly AND stupid."
I stepped closer, lowering my voice so only she could hear: "Besides, some people don't even get the chance to lie in bed, do they?"
Chloe's face flushed crimson. She opened her mouth but found no comeback.
Just then, an assistant pushed through the door: "Chloe Martinez, you're up for audition."
Through the makeup room's one-way glass, I watched the audition room. Martin Scorsese himself sat center stage at the judges' table, expression stern. This legendary director was famously demanding—actors who impressed him could be counted on one hand.
Chloe strutted forward confidently, bowing deeply.
"Director Scorsese, I'm Chloe Martinez, and I'm so honored to..."
"Begin." Martin said coldly, giving her no chance to brown-nose.
The audition piece was Elena's emotional breakdown upon discovering her friend's death. The scene required displaying four distinct emotional layers—shock, grief, anger, and strength—within three minutes.
Chloe began performing. Her voice was loud, gestures exaggerated, expressions rich... but it lacked that authentic, heart-felt quality. She was performing "sadness" rather than actually being sad.
Good God, this is a disaster.
I watched Martin's brow furrow. After three minutes, he shook his head without hesitation.
"Next."
Chloe stood frozen, clearly not expecting such quick elimination.
"Director, I... I could try again..."
"No need." Martin's words were final. "Acting requires talent. That's not something effort can compensate for."
Watching Chloe being awkwardly escorted out by staff, I felt no sympathy. She was this level in my past life, and nothing's changed in this one. An idiot is an idiot.
"Olivia Martinez."
Finally my turn. I took a deep breath and pushed through the heavy audition room doors.
Spotlights hit me instantly, the intense glare making me squint. Director Martin stared at me intently.
"Ready?"
"Absolutely." My voice was clear and confident.
"This scene requires showing a mother's despair upon losing her child..." Martin began explaining the requirements in detail.
His words struck the deepest pain in my heart. Emma's face instantly appeared before me—that innocent little face, and her agonized expression before death.
"I understand that pain." Real sorrow flashed in my eyes.
No need to act. Just remember.
I began performing. When I delivered Elena's line upon discovering her child's death, the pain of losing Emma in my past life surged up. This wasn't acting—this was despair I'd truly experienced.
My voice went from trembling to choking, then to angry roaring, finally settling into strong calm. The entire process flowed naturally, each emotional transition seamless.
The audition room fell completely silent. Even the crew stopped their work.
"Cut." Martin's voice broke the silence.
He slowly stood, walking toward me, eyes shining with something approaching awe.
"That's exactly right. Real pain cannot be faked." He nodded. "What have you experienced?"
"Loss." I answered simply. "Complete loss."
An hour later, all actresses gathered in the lobby anxiously awaiting results.
Chloe huddled in a corner, face pale. She clearly knew how disastrous her performance had been.
Director Martin emerged holding a document. His serious expression made the atmosphere even more tense.
"I know everyone's eager for results. Frankly, this audition disappointed me greatly." He paused, scanning the room. "But there were also surprises."
Everyone held their breath—you could hear heartbeats.
"For the lead role of Elena in 'Beneath the Truth,' I choose..."
Time seemed frozen.
"Olivia Martinez."
Applause erupted instantly, but was drowned out by a piercing shriek.
"IMPOSSIBLE! This is absolutely IMPOSSIBLE!" Chloe charged forward like a madwoman. "Why her! Director, you must be mistaken! She... she's just a WHORE who slept her way up!"
Whore? This IDIOT dares call me a whore?
The entire lobby fell into dead silence as everyone stared at Chloe in shock.
"ENOUGH!" Martin shouted. "Questioning my choice means questioning my forty years of professional judgment! Security! Get this crazy woman OUT of here!"
Two burly guards immediately rushed over, grabbing Chloe's arms.
"Let go of me! LET GO!" Chloe struggled, hair disheveled, makeup ruined. "This isn't fair! She doesn't deserve it!"
"Drag her out!" Martin roared. "This woman is BANNED from Universal Studios property forever!"
Security dragged Chloe away as her screams echoed through the corridors.
"Congratulations, Miss Martinez," Martin turned to me, smile returning to his face as he extended his hand. "This role was made for you."
"Thank you for your trust, Director." I shook his hand.
Chloe, this is reality. Talent isn't something you can get through jealousy.