Chapter 19
Hazel's POV
"Hazel."
My name echoed through the quiet hall, pulling my gaze to the last person I wanted to see—Gabriel Zimmer, CEO of Bloom Entertainment and, unfortunately, my second ex-mate.
"What? Are you here to beg me to accept you back?" His cold, mocking voice sliced through the silence. "Or maybe you thought that if you auditioned, I'd change my mind and give you another chance?"
I stared at him for a solid two seconds before bursting out into uncontained laughter.
"You find this amusing?" he snapped, his tongue flicking against his teeth in irritation.
"The fact that you came here to welcome me… I am honored." I folded my arms and let my glare meet his.
"Who do you think you are that I'd ever come back to you? You don't even have a face card, and your body—" I tilted my head, raising a brow, "—isn't even in good shape. Are you truly overestimating yourself, Gabriel?" I smirked and walked past him, unwilling to waste my audition on old trash disguised as a man.
---
Inside the audition room, mocking whispers and sneering stares followed me. No one came close, and honestly, I was grateful. I sat quietly, watching contestant after contestant perform. They were given random scenes to act out.
When my turn finally came, I greeted the judges politely before sitting in front of them. Four judges—two men and two women—stared back at me. Gabriel sat among them, his eyes burning with provocation. From the faces of at least two judges, I could already tell they'd judged me based on reputation alone.
"Scene 124," one of them instructed.
Perfect. I had memorized the entire script. They thought they'd make it difficult by assigning one of the most emotionally raw scenes. Fine. Let them watch me bleed truth onto their stage, what is character play when I'm playing the role of Hazel in real Life.
I bowed my head, my gaze dropping as unshed tears shimmered in my eyes. My hand reached for the picture frame before me, stroking it as sorrow washed over me. My chest tightened, and my voice cracked.
"Why… why does it hurt? Why does love always hurt? Are they prettier than me? Better than me? I've followed you for nine years, yet you don't even see me as a woman…"
Tears slipped down my cheeks. My body trembled as if I were unraveling at the seams, my voice breaking under the weight of pain that wasn't just acting—it was my life. With shaking hands, I used my sleeve to gently wipe the picture frame.
"Oh my God… what raw emotions."
The voice came from Mr. Carlos Gretzky, the most difficult and impartial judge in the industry—the one no one could ever please. Yet he clapped. His applause thundered in the silent room, dragging everyone else back from the heavy, suffocating sorrow I'd just unleashed.
All eyes turned to me in stunned silence. I raised my chin, catching Gabriel's shocked, almost foolish expression.
"Finally, someone performed her role perfectly," Lucy, the second judge, whispered with a smile.
I gave a small nod of thanks, masking my triumph with a poker face. They didn't need to know I'd forced those tears out by pinching my skin hard enough to bruise. Case closed.
---
The auditions continued until everyone had performed. When I returned to my seat, contestants' eyes lingered on me, some in awe, others in disbelief. Were they surprised at my skill? Probably. But I wouldn't overestimate myself; auditions were fickle and often cruel.
Soon the director's voice cut through the tension.
"Alright, contestants, next is the red carpet show. You'll be scored not only on your acting but also on how you present yourselves. Remember the theme—beauty. This is not just for the judges but for the audience as well. Celebrities and the media are watching. Every channel will broadcast this event. So, into your gowns, beauties."
He motioned us forward. We were guided into separate rooms.
I stood in front of a wide vanity filled with endless makeup products. Makeup had once been my weakness, but now it was my art.
"The theme is beauty…" I whispered to myself. "Then glam makeup will be perfect."
I waited patiently for the call to begin when footsteps approached my room. A knock sounded, and then she walked in.
Dawn.
Her scornful eyes met mine as she stepped inside, wearing the exact gown Anna had picked for me at the mall. She smirked and sat down, ready to flaunt herself.
"Why the sudden call last night? I expected to see bruises on your body," I said calmly, tilting my head. "But it looks like Francis boy is still a novice when it comes to manhandling."
Her face flared with rage. She clenched her fists, forcing herself to remain rational.
"You said something to Francis, didn't you?" she demanded.
I chuckled darkly, rising from my seat. "Oh, I was planning on gifting you something after the show… but since you're here, why not now?"
I walked closer and turned my phone toward her. On the screen—Francis's number. Nearly twenty missed calls stared back at her.
"I didn't intend to ruin whatever pathetic thing you had with him," I said, stressing my words, giving her a pointed you know who I mean look. "But just me answering his call…"
As if on cue, the phone rang again. Francis's name flashed across the screen.
"…might ruin you both." I finished with a smirk.
Her face turned crimson, fury flashing in her eyes as her hand twitched toward my hair.
"Be warned," I said smoothly, "this place has CCTV cameras, and in a few minutes, we'll be live. One wrong move, and you'll ruin more than your dress."
Her lips quivered with unsaid curses, but she swallowed them back.
"Now leave," I said coldly, "and remember—don't spoil my show."
She stomped away, her eyes glinting with schemes she hadn't dared execute yet.
The moment she left, I turned to the wardrobe. My gown hung inside. Identical to Dawn's… at first glance. But one touch, one look, revealed the difference. Mine shimmered with authenticity—the pearls were real, the fabric flawless, the design breathtaking.
I smiled at my reflection, slipping into my gown with the confidence of a queen.
"Let the show begin," I whispered, feeling every inch the villainess who had just cornered another villainess into her own downfall.