JULIA POV

CASTING CALL & ADDITIONAL CREW NEEDED

Production: “The Rich Boy in Disguise” starring Damon Watts.

Location: Old Town District

My heart pounded faster, so it was true—this was not just a rumor. Damon Watts was really in this town!

The series was being filmed only a few hundred yards away from me. I immediately read the details on the poster more carefully.

Oh, they were also looking for additional crew members for catering and cleaning for the next two weeks!

I reached into my jacket pocket and looked at the cracked screen that had silently witnessed all my struggles. I checked my pitiful bank balance, then looked back at the poster.

While I didn't have professional catering qualifications, I was accustomed to working hard under any circumstances. Washing dishes, preparing meals, cleaning gardens—anything! Even lying if necessary.

“Oh, God,” I exhaled a long breath.

A reckless idea began to take shape in my head. If I could get into the filming location as part of the crew, I might have a chance to get close to Damon Watts. I only needed less than a minute to ask for a short video or an autograph.

The filming location was in Old Town, near an abandoned train station. There was an open field filled with tall grass, now transformed into rows of trailers, tents, and countless people. Large trucks bearing the logos of famous production companies were parked there.

My steps quickened as adrenaline surged through me. The moment I reached one of the gates guarded by security, I gave a casual nod.

“Where are you going, ma’am?” he asked.

I swallowed hard. “Catering. I’m with the catering team.” My eyes briefly glanced inside, where people were rushing around. “I’m late.”

“You do not have an ID? Where is your ID?”

The question hit me like a bolt of lightning. How was I supposed to know that even catering staff needed IDs? I suddenly felt like coming here had been pointless. I had not even made it inside, and I was already about to be kicked out.

“Julia?”

The voice came from behind the security guard.

My eyes nearly stopped blinking when I saw Ashley, my high school friend, standing there. She was wearing a white apron and looked extremely busy. The last time I saw Ashley was when I returned to Spring Creek a year ago.

“Sorry, I’m late!” I immediately waved.

I quickly moved past the security guard, who looked shocked by my impulsive behavior. I wrapped an arm around Ashley and silently begged with my eyes.

“What should I do now? I’m not too late, right?” I said loudly. “Ah, I forgot my ID.”

Ashley blinked, looking confused. Then she immediately understood.

“It’s fine. Just come help me in the back.”

The security guard watched us act, his eyes scanning us for any sign of a lie. But our performance seemed convincing enough.

Ashley turned toward him.

“She’s with me,” Ashley said. “My team.”

“Tell her to bring her ID next time.”

Ashley gave him a thumbs-up. “Roger that.”

We hurried away, and I followed Ashley’s quick pace. She looked slightly tense, even though she was trying to hide it.

“One year without a word, and then you suddenly show up here? Great,” Ashley said sarcastically.

“I’m sorry. I just—”

“I know,” Ashley cut in. “That does not mean you should shut everyone out, Julia. Asking for help is not something to be ashamed of.”

“Well, right now I am asking you for help.”

The smell of delicious food wafted through the air as we reached one of the large white tents. People were busy packing food into boxes and stacking them up. But instead of putting me to work, Ashley dragged me to a quieter corner.

“How are you? And your daughter?” Ashley asked.

I did not answer. My eyes simply began to sting and fill with tears.

That was one of the reasons I avoided so many acquaintances. I hated being asked about Jilly’s condition. The pity and concern in people’s eyes only made me feel worse.

Like, I looked weak. Like I was incapable of taking care of Jilly. For God’s sake, I was trying my hardest for my daughter!

Ashley only gave my shoulder a brief pat, looking awkward.

“Okay, what kind of help do you need? I can still put you into one of the catering team slots. You can start working right now.”

I shook my head. “For now, I just need to meet Damon Watts.”

“What?”

“Yes, Damon Watts.”

Ashley gaped at me. “That is not what I meant. Oh my God, why do you want to meet Damon Watts?”

“Jilly wants to meet him. But she will never be able to meet her idol.” I took a breath that felt unbearably heavy. “So I just need an autograph or a short video for Jilly.”

Silence settled between us, a sharp contrast to the bustle inside the tent.

“You know I can’t help you with that,” Ashley whispered, lowering her voice. “Just because Damon is filming here does not mean people can meet him whenever they want.”

“Please, Ash...” Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. “Damon is the only thing that keeps Jilly going every single day.”

And this time, I begged Ashley for permission.

I pushed aside my humiliation and discomfort at the thought of burdening someone else. All so my mission could succeed.

I would not leave until I got what Jilly wanted. A tiny piece of hope.

Ashley let out a long breath. She stepped away from me, then grabbed a baseball cap and a food box and shoved them into my hands.

“Damon’s trailer is number two. Remember, if anyone asks, you are a freelance worker from City Catering. Do not talk too much, and do not make eye contact with anyone.” Ashley looked at me seriously.

I nodded repeatedly.

“And for God’s sake, Julia, hide that phone of yours,” Ashley hissed. “Only take it out if Damon agrees to your request.”

“Okay, okay.” I quickly slipped my phone into my back pocket.

“I mean it, Julia. Do not do anything weird,” Ashley warned.

“I know. Just one autograph for Jilly. Then I disappear,” I replied in what I hoped sounded convincing, even though my hands were trembling as I held the food box. “I promise.”

Ashley, the only person crazy enough to help me, finally sent me on my way.

I took a deep breath and left the tent. As I walked, I looked around the old train station.

My plan was simple: Go in, get the autograph, and get out quickly.

Before anyone realized I was not actually part of the catering crew. Just a desperate mother carrying out the most ridiculous disguise of the century.

I walked past rows of crew members. Some were dragging black cables as thick as a human arm. Others carried lights and various filmmaking equipment.

Then my steps came to a halt in front of the trailer area. My heart shrank when a large man immediately stood up. Apparently, another security guard was stationed there.

Well, I should have expected that.

“Stop!” His hand shot up in warning. “Where is your ID card?”

I cleared my throat softly.

“I left it behind. I’m just a freelance worker here. This is for Damon Watts. I was told to deliver it. You can ask at the City Catering tent if you do not believe me,” I rambled, trying to hide my trembling.

The security guard narrowed his eyes. “All right. Get in there. Do not take too long.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

I half-ran through a crowd of background actors who were touching up their makeup. Eventually, I arrived at the VIP trailer area, which was quieter and more isolated.

There were still security guards stationed there, watching me cautiously.

My eyes landed on a white trailer.

There was no number two displayed, but there was a name on it:

Damon Watts.

I stood in front of the door for a moment.

My mind was carefully arranging the first sentence I would say to the twenty-year-old man who held the key to my daughter’s happiness.

“I do not care about that contract! I just want all of you to leave and leave me alone! Can I not have one goddamn ten minutes of peace in my life?”

I flinched at the shout coming from inside the trailer.

A loud crash followed, as if something had been thrown and shattered on the floor. What was happening in there?

Behind this door was a reality completely different from any movie I had ever seen.

Doubt crept into me. Should I even go in?

The young man inside sounded like he hated the entire world.

I recklessly opened the door anyway. Because all of this was for Jilly.

“Excuse me, I brought lunch—”

My voice caught in my throat when I saw Damon Watts.

He was sitting on a couch with his back facing me, one hand dangling loosely while holding a bottle of alcohol. He turned and stared directly at me. His eyes were red.

The world seemed to stop spinning when I finally saw that face in person. The young man Jilly hugged every night in the form of a pillow.

But right now, he looked at me as if I were the most irritating insect in the world.

“Who said you could come in without knocking?” he hissed.

Damon rose unsteadily and walked toward me. I set the food box down on a cluttered table covered with glasses and empty liquor bottles.

“I’m sorry, I—”

My back hit the closed trailer door. Damon narrowed his eyes and stopped directly in front of me. Only a few inches separated us.

“Who are you?” he asked hoarsely.

JULIA POV

The sharp scent of alcohol on Damon’s breath clashed with his masculine cologne, creating a combination that instantly made my stomach churn. I simply froze where I stood, pulling my cap lower over my face.

Damon did not look like the handsome hero Jilly constantly adored on television. Instead, he looked like a broken young man with a tired face and a clenched jaw—hardened by anger.

A feeling of regret crept over me.

Why had my daughter become a fan of an actor like this? The hero who was supposed to be brave and bring happiness to my daughter was actually like this?

Oh, God, how disappointed Jilly would be if she knew that Damon Watts was nothing more than a man drowning in despair. He looked miserable!

“Do you have ears?” Damon’s mocking voice was like a blade ready to cut. “Who are you? How dare you come in without my permission?”

“I’m just delivering catering,” I squeaked softly.

Damon let out a cynical snort, his eyes sweeping over my appearance.

“Are you sure? Catering staff know exactly what they are supposed to do when they come into my trailer. You do not even look professional at your job.”

I swallowed hard, my mind completely blank. Every sweet and polite sentence I had rehearsed had vanished.

“Who sent you? Paparazzi? Gossip reporters?” He leaned his face closer. “Or are you just another crazy fan who managed to sneak in again?”

I quickly shook my head.

“I’m just additional catering staff,” I insisted.

There was a moment of silence. All I could hear was Damon’s heavy breathing brushing against my face.

Then he stepped back and turned away.

“Leave. I do not want to be disturbed anymore.”

This was not how things were supposed to go. I came all the way here only to get yelled at.

And then what would I tell Jilly? That her idol was a stressed-out young man who got drunk in the middle of the day?

I took a breath and reached for the door handle, but my hand stopped. I turned toward Damon, who had walked to the table and was about to open the lunch box.

“I’m sorry, but could I have a moment of your time?” I asked, my voice trembling.

Damon neither turned around nor answered. That only made me feel even more cornered and confused.

“I only need one small thing. Could you help me? My daughter is being treated at Light Hope Hospital.” My voice sounded anxious. “Jilly really admires you. Could I please ask for a short video or an autograph for her?”

I hurriedly added, “Just ten seconds. I promise I will leave immediately afterward.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone, trembling. It was an impulsive move that I should not have made. Ashley had warned me about this, but I was desperate.

I needed Damon’s help so Jilly could have a sweet memory during days that could end at any moment.

Damon turned around, his eyes locking onto my phone. In an instant, his ragged breathing turned into furious huffs. His expression shifted from suspicion to anger.

“You!” he shouted.

Damon strode forward, closing the distance between us until I could feel the heat of his alcohol-soaked body. His hand clamped tightly around my wrist.

“So it is true. You’re a stalker!” he accused sharply.

He snatched the phone from my hand and threw it onto the trailer floor.

“No, that’s not it—”

“You are all the same! No shame at all, no respect for my privacy!” he cut in.

My eyes widened as his anger exploded, all of it directed at me.

“You people think my life is some circus you can watch whenever you want under the excuse of being a ‘fan’ or having a ‘sick child’!” he ranted.

My eyes burned, and my heart felt as though it were being ripped apart by such cruel accusations.

Yet I could not defend myself. It was as if all my courage had been drained away by the mad young man standing in front of me.

“Get out of here right now before I completely lose my patience!” Damon pointed toward the door.

My hand impulsively grabbed his arm. “Please, this is not for me. It is for Jilly.”

Our eyes met, but all I saw was a gaze consumed by raging fire.

“For God’s sake, Jilly only has one wish. She wants to see her hero,” I pleaded, my voice almost breaking into sobs. “The doctors said she does not have much time left, and—”

“Enough with that drama!” Damon snapped harshly, shrugging off my grip. “I have heard thousands of garbage stories like that!”

“You are wrong!” My courage suddenly returned. “Jilly is not who you think she is! She’s brave! And she keeps fighting every single day because of you!”

“Stop! I know you people just want to get photos of me and sell them to the media!” Damon shouted even louder. “Security! Security!”

“Please, Damon. Do not do this to Jilly!”

“Security! There is an intruder in my trailer!”

The trailer door flew open with a violent bang, and I nearly fell if I had not grabbed the doorframe in time.

Two large men immediately stormed inside. They paused for a few seconds, staring at Damon, whose face was now red with fury.

Then their attention shifted to me, standing there with tears beginning to fill my eyes.

“Get this crazy woman out of here! And make sure she never sets foot on this filming location again!”

Damon gave the order in a voice so cold that it cut through me. Then he turned his back on me. As if my existence was nothing more than trash cluttering his view.

“Please, Damon! Just for a moment, listen to me!” I shouted as one of the security guards’ powerful hands seized my arm.

My body was dragged forcefully out of the cramped trailer.

“Out. Now, ma’am!” one of the guards barked.

I struggled and tried to grab my phone, which was still lying on the trailer floor. But one of the guards accidentally stepped on it.

My trembling hand reached for the phone, only to find the screen—displaying Jilly’s photo—cracked and shattered.

The trailer door slammed shut with a thunderous bang. It felt as though it had slammed shut on the last of my hope as well.

Outside, flashes of light greeted me.

I turned my head and saw background actors and crew members watching me like I was a spectacle. Some of them had their phones pointed at me already. They eagerly recorded the moment I was being dragged away from the VIP area.

“An intruder? Oh, hell!”

“Oh my God, Damon’s stalker? That is bold!”

“Impressive courage. Still stupid, though.”

The whispers, comments, and insults rang clearly in my ears. The humiliation burning my cheeks was nothing compared to the pain in my chest. I had just destroyed the only chance I had to make Jilly happy during the little time she had left.

Forgive Mom, sweetheart. I am not a good mother for you. I failed to make you smile.

No matter how hard I try for you, every opportunity always falls apart.

Forgive me, Jilly. Forgive your foolish mother. 

JULIA POV

The rough asphalt burned through the soles of my shoes as the two security guards dragged me away, giving me no chance to stand. They hauled me past cables, cameras, and crew members who stopped whatever they were doing just to watch the free show.

Sharp stares and whispers spread like wildfire. Phones were raised without hesitation, recording my face as it burned with humiliation—and now, pure rage.

“Let go! I can walk on my own!” I shouted, trying to wrench my arms free.

Their grip only tightened, locking down so hard I knew my arms would be bruised tomorrow.

“Shut up and get out!” one of them barked, shoving me through the metal barricades that separated the set from the public street.

I stumbled onto the sidewalk, my knees slamming hard against the concrete. Pedestrians turned, staring in shock.

“Cause trouble again, and we’re calling the cops, ma’am!” the guard yelled, his voice dripping with disgust. “Crazy bitch, ruining our lead actor’s peace!”

The gate slammed shut and locked with a heavy metallic clang.

I was left stranded among a crowd of strangers who immediately began whispering and pointing. In a small town like Spring Creek, even the smallest spark of drama became a wildfire of gossip.

But I did not care about them.

My mind was trapped inside that trailer, focused on the phone that had been stomped on.

With trembling hands, I opened my grip. The screen was a shattered spiderweb, flickering with erratic green lines.

“No, no...” Panic choked me.

The screen went completely black. Dead.

I pressed the power button over and over, praying for a miracle, but the display remained dark—empty, just like my hope.

“Julia! Julia!”

I looked up and saw Ashley running toward me, breathless and pale. She grabbed my arms and pulled me to my feet, her eyes wide with alarm.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“My phone... I have to call the hospital,” I whispered, tears finally spilling over and dripping onto the cracked glass. “I ruined everything, Ash. I’m so sorry. Your job—”

“Do not worry about it,” Ashley cut in frantically, shoving her phone in front of my face. “But Julia, you need to leave. Right now. Look.”

A short video was already playing on her screen. It was a terrible, low-angle clip of me screaming and struggling while security dragged me out.

The caption made my chest tighten until I could barely breathe:

Middle-aged stalker targets young actor: Drama on the set of The Rich Boy in Disguise.

The comments were pouring in like venom, calling me an obsessed, mentally unstable criminal.

“I just wanted to make Jilly smile,” I whispered, my blood turning to ice.

“I know, but the world does not care about the truth. They only care about who has the camera and the power,” Ashley said, her voice shaking as she looked around at the gathering crowd. “People are already recognizing you, Julia. Go. Run to the hospital before reporters find you here. Take the back street. Now!”

I did not argue. I forced my legs to move. They trembled violently beneath me.

My scraped knees burned every time the fabric of my pants brushed against the raw skin, but that physical pain was nothing compared to the gaping hole in my chest.

As I fled through the alleyways, I squeezed the dead phone in my pocket.

I was no longer just Julia, the struggling single mother. In a matter of minutes, I had been rewritten into a monster who threatened their precious prince, Damon Watts.

Oh God, I thought as a fresh wave of panic hit me. Please do not let Jilly see the TV!

My feet felt like lead as I finally pushed open the glass doors of the hospital lobby. I kept my head lowered, praying the baseball cap was enough to hide my face.

But the moment I passed the reception desk, the atmosphere shifted.

The nurses looked up, their eyes widening.

Visitors in the waiting area turned to stare openly, pointing as a heavy murmur slithered through the room like a nest of rattlesnakes.

“That’s her, right? The stalker mom from the internet?” a woman whispered loudly, showing her phone to the person beside her.

I forced myself to walk faster, hurrying toward the elevator as shame burned a hot trail up my neck. My throat felt painfully dry.

When the elevator doors opened on the pediatric oncology floor, a nurse named Sarah intercepted me. She looked shocked, but there was no hatred in her expression.

“Mrs. Pierce,” she breathed, pulling me aside. “Oh my God... is the news true?”

I shook my head frantically. “It is a misunderstanding. It is not what it looks like, I swear.”

“The internet will move on, Mrs. Pierce. Just try to stay calm,” she said softly, patting my back with sympathy.

Then she glanced at the clock. “Wait, are you not supposed to be at the diner tonight?”

My breath caught. The shift!

I was supposed to be at work an hour ago, but in my panic over Jilly and the viral video, I had run straight here.

“Sarah, please, can I borrow the desk phone? I need to call my boss,” I begged.

She guided me into the nurses’ station and pointed to the landline. As I lifted the receiver, my eyes accidentally drifted to the computer screen on the desk. An entertainment article was open, featuring my face beside a polished photo of Damon Watts.

I glanced at the top comments, and it was a fatal mistake.

"Old hag chasing a younger guy? Disgusting."

"She looks unhinged. Put her in jail."

Tears blurred my vision. They did not know I had been there begging for my daughter’s life.

I forced myself to look away and dialed the diner’s number.

“Hello?”

“Alfred, it’s me. Julia,” I said, my voice cracking.

“Oh. Julia.” Alfred’s voice was stiff, stripped of its usual warmth. “I saw the news.”

“Alfred, please, it is a mistake. Let me explain—”

“You do not need to come back to the diner, Julia,” he cut me off, his tone cold and final.

I froze. The world seemed to dim, and my knees threatened to give out right there on the linoleum floor.

“What?”

“Everyone has seen it! Customers are calling the diner, asking why I employ a crazy, viral stalker!” Alfred snapped. “This is a quiet family business, Julia. Not a shelter for internet criminals!”

“Please, Alfred, listen to me,” I sobbed, humiliation swallowing my pride. “I only asked for an autograph for Jilly. I did not attack anyone! You know Jilly is fighting for her life. I need this job to pay for her treatments. Please, you know who I am!”

A heavy sigh echoed through the line. “Julia... just take some time off. Until this cools down. Okay?”

“But Alfred—”

“Do not make this harder than it already is. I will transfer the remaining pay for this week. I am not taking it away. Just... stay away.”

The line went dead.

I stood there, paralyzed, the dial tone buzzing in my ear like a mocking laugh. My world had just completely collapsed.

I hung up the receiver with trembling fingers, feeling the last shreds of my stability slip away.

With what little strength I had left, I wiped my face, forced my expression into something resembling calm, and walked toward Room 303.

Jilly’s room.

But the moment I stepped inside, my heart dropped into my stomach.

Jilly was sitting upright in her small hospital bed, her eyes glued to the TV mounted on the wall. The local news station was broadcasting a live segment.

And right there on the screen was the unedited footage of her mother being dragged away like trash from Damon Watts’ trailer.

Oh, my God!