Chapter 2 – Signing the Contract
The papers lay on the glass coffee table like a trap dressed up in legalese. Neatly stacked, full of paragraphs in microscopic font, they looked harmless enough. But Alexis Harper knew better. Every signature line, every initial box, was another nail in the coffin of her dignity.
Across from her, Lila perched on the edge of Alexis's threadbare couch, immaculate in a blazer the color of fresh blood. Her nails tapped an impatient rhythm on her phone, her eyes gleaming with the unholy mix of excitement and caffeine.
"Okay," Lila said, snapping the phone shut with a click that echoed like a gavel. "Let's go through this. Your role is... well, to put it bluntly, you're the chaos factor."
Alexis arched a brow, crossing her arms. "The chaos factor. That sounds less like a role and more like something people mutter about me at industry parties."
Lila smirked. "Exactly. You'll fit right in." She leaned forward, pointing to a highlighted section. "They're calling it the pick-me girl archetype. You know, the one who stirs things up, goes after the main prize even when it's inconvenient, keeps the camera glued to her every move. Viewers will love to hate you. And that, Alexis, is what ratings are made of."
Alexis stared at the word pick-me until it blurred. She imagined herself standing in a glittering mansion kitchen, batting her lashes at some wide-eyed bachelor while the other women hissed behind their wine glasses. A laugh slipped out—dark, brittle, but genuine.
"Great," she said. "So I'm supposed to show up, ruin dates, and probably get a drink thrown in my face? Sounds like high art. Shakespeare would be proud."
"Honestly? Yes," Lila said without irony. "Theater with better lighting. And no one throws drinks anymore—it's usually champagne. More sparkle on camera."
Alexis pinched the bridge of her nose, half to block the migraine, half to smother the hysterical laugh rising in her throat. She pictured herself sneaking into candlelit date setups, loosening the caps on salt shakers, or accidentally-on-purpose tripping into the pool in a designer gown. The montage in her mind was so absurd it almost broke her resolve not to smile.
Almost.
"This is insane," she muttered. "I trained with the Method. I studied Chekhov. I nearly ruined my liver in that indie about alcoholic ballerinas."
"And now you'll weaponize that training into looking devastating while stealing a man from under twenty women's noses," Lila said sweetly. "All while America watches."
Alexis let her head fall back against the couch cushion. "My mother will disown me. Again."
"She'll get over it when you're trending on Twitter."
"Twitter is a hellscape."
"Exactly. Your natural habitat."
Against her will, Alexis snorted. The sound startled her—it had been so long since she'd laughed like that. Lila pounced on it like a shark scenting blood.
"See? You still have bite. This is survival, Alexis. You don't have to like it, but you have to admit—it's better than waiting tables between auditions that never call back."
Alexis winced. Low blow, but not inaccurate. She glanced down at the contract again. The words swam together, forming one giant phrase: humiliate yourself for money.
She tried to picture the alternative: declining, fading further into irrelevance, scrolling social media while the world moved on without her. She thought of the critics who'd called her forgettable. Of the directors who smiled politely, their eyes already drifting to fresher faces.
Her pride screamed no. Her survival whispered yes.
Lila leaned in, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "Look, you don't have to be the pick-me girl. You just have to play her. You're an actress. Think of it as your greatest role yet."
Alexis's lips twisted. "My greatest role is pretending to be desperate on national television? God, that sounds way too autobiographical."
"Better desperate than invisible," Lila said softly.
The words landed like a dart to the chest. Invisible. That was the thing Alexis feared most—not ridicule, not scandal, but fading until no one remembered she'd ever been here at all.
Her gaze drifted to the pen lying on the coffee table. Sleek, expensive, out of place in her shabby apartment. All she had to do was pick it up.
But her hand stayed in her lap, clenched into a fist.
"I can't believe I'm even considering this," she whispered.
"Believe it," Lila said. "Because you don't have another option."
Alexis looked up sharply, ready to snap back, but the truth silenced her. She didn't have another option. Not one that didn't involve abandoning everything she'd fought for.
She closed her eyes, just for a moment. Images flickered—her first red carpet, the indie award in her hands, the warmth of applause washing over her. And then the reviews. The cruel headlines. The empty phone.
Survival or self-respect.
She opened her eyes and reached for the pen. The weight of it was heavier than it should have been, as though it carried not just ink but consequence.
She signed the first line.
Then the second.
Her signature curled across the page, binding her to the role of chaos incarnate. Each stroke felt like cutting away another sliver of her pride.
When she set the pen down, the room felt unbearably quiet.
Lila snatched up the contract like it was the Holy Grail. "There it is. Beautiful. You won't regret this."
Alexis gave her a look sharp enough to cut glass. "If I end up sobbing into a confessional camera while America laughs at me, I'm haunting you."
"You'll thank me when your Instagram doubles overnight."
Alexis groaned, flopping back dramatically onto the couch. "If I trend for crying ugly, I swear—"
"You'll trend for drama," Lila interrupted. "Which is even better."
Alexis covered her face with her hands, laughter and despair tangled together in her chest. She had done it. She had signed her dignity away, one initial at a time.
But as she sat there, the faintest thread of something else coiled through her exhaustion. A spark. Not hope, exactly. Something sharper. Defiance. If the world wanted her as chaos, then chaos was what she would give them.
Only on her terms.
She lowered her hands and stared at Lila, green eyes glinting. "Fine. I'll play their little saboteur. I'll be their villain. But I swear to God, I'm going to make it unforgettable."
Lila's smile widened into a shark's grin. "That's my girl."
Alexis leaned back, heart pounding, torn between dread and exhilaration. She had no idea what she'd just unleashed.
But one thing was certain: when the cameras started rolling, Alexis Harper wasn't going to fade quietly.
Not this time.
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