A phone call from Bruce Johnson had me drop everything and rush straight to the east of the city.

His voice was urgent as he spoke, "Ysabelle, come to my side right now, or I'm done for!"

I left the client behind, and amid everyone's shocked gazes, I sped off.

What was supposed to be an hour's journey turned into a thirty-minute sprint as I floored the accelerator.

But when I arrived, Bruce was grinning smugly at the crew.

"I told you all, nothing's more important than me," he declared.

Noticing the dark look on my face, he shrugged nonchalantly, and teased, "Just kidding, don’t be so uptight."

The others laughed together. "What can you do? Bruce is her muse, after all."

Their mocking laughter trampled my dignity.

They believed Bruce was the one who had my heart, and that I would do anything for him, even risking everything at his word.

Yet when I requested the director to replace him as the male lead, so I could kiss another man, he froze, his face as blank as paper.

—

“What happened to Bruce..?”

When I rushed into the makeup room, disheveled and out of breath, the entire room burst into laughter.

And there he was, my childhood friend, Bruce, calm and playing with his phone, even sporting a hint of indulgence at the corners of his mouth.

That was when I realized—it was all a setup.

The staff, who always knew how to flatter the powerful and belittle others, sneered at me.

"Still, Bruce is impressive. His people listen so well. Maybe we should learn from him one day.”

“This is nothing. She’s always at his beck and call.”

“Raising Ysabelle is easier than raising a dog!”

Their words struck me like a sharp slap across the face, leaving a sting in my heart.

I clenched my teeth, my gaze growing darker.

The atmosphere grew tense, and finally, Bruce put down his phone.

He scanned the room disapprovingly before his gaze landed on me.

"Ysabelle, don’t listen to them. I was just joking with you."

A smile tugged at his eyes as he patted my head, as if rewarding me.

He knew I didn’t care about what anyone else thought. My heart and eyes were only filled with him.

"What was the urgent matter on the phone?" I couldn't help but ask.

He smiled softly. "I almost forgot. Can you get me a hot latte, with skim milk, and double the espresso?"

"That's it?" I exclaimed.

My heart tightened, and I almost said it with each word.

Bruce didn’t seem to care. "What else?"

"Such a small thing requires me to come all the way here? Don’t you have an assistant?" I inhaled sharply as I suppressed my irritation.

The mention of an assistant made Bruce give me an annoyed look.

"What do you mean? You’re my assistant!"

Someone scoffed. "Yeah. I bet she doesn't look in the mirror. Just look at her. She couldn't even compare to Gianna."

Gianna was Bruce’s girlfriend.

Saying she was his assistant was just an excuse to spend all their time together.

Perhaps sensing the harshness of their words, Bruce explained, "Gia would never do this kind of menial work."

Hearing him, I couldn't help but inwardly sneer. So, I was born to serve him? Am I supposed to do all the dirty work?

I stared at his handsome face, scrutinizing it carefully.

We were childhood friends, but now, he felt so distant.

Back then, when I was bedridden from menstrual cramps, he had rushed over from another city, clumsily and nervously asking, "Do you need brown sugar water? I’ll go make it."

I smiled, pressing my lips together. "Bruce, you’re so silly."

He scratched his head awkwardly as he replied, "I might be clumsy, but I can still take care of you."

Before, in the alleyway, he was the only one who ever protected me.

However, Bruce was also the one who had hurt me the most.

Taking a deep breath, I asked, "Do you even know what day it is today?"

He searched his mind desperately, but no answer came to him.

Watching him struggle to remember, I let out a bitter laugh. "Today is the day I sold my script rights."

As soon as the words left my lips, my tears followed.

For a fleeting moment, guilt flickered in Bruce's eyes.

Years ago, we both got accepted into the Film Academy—his dream was to become an outstanding actor.

And I, without hesitation, chose the playwriting major.

I loved him so much that I lost myself, making his dreams my own.

After years of polishing scripts inspired by him, I had finally sold one.

And yet, to him, I was only worthy of fetching coffee.

I no longer looked at him. Turning away, I was ready to leave.

But he grabbed my hand. "Come on, I was just joking. Do you have to take it so seriously?"

"Selling a script doesn’t even mean it’ll be produced, so what’s with the attitude?"

I stared at him, feeling my emotions drain away.

I used to believe that even if he didn’t love me now, as long as I waited and kept giving, one day he’d see me.

But I had forgotten—the person I should love the most in this life wasn’t him. It was myself.

The boy who once fought off bullies for me, who punched and kicked the thug that deflated my bike tires, had long since vanished in the pursuit of fame and fortune.

I let out a bitter smile, ready to pull my hand away.

Just then, Gianna pushed open the door, her voice was sugary sweet. "Bruce, did you get my coffee?"

Bruce immediately let go of my hand and walked toward her, deliberately creating distance between us—as if to show his unwavering loyalty in front of her.

"N-no, not yet," he stammered.

It hit me then—the coffee wasn’t even for him. It was for Gianna.

She stood there in a pristine white princess dress, radiating elegance.

"Ysabelle, are you here to visit the set?" she asked, smiling as she linked arms with Bruce. "Don’t worry, I’m taking good care of him."

Though her words were friendly, her eyes were filled with provocation.

Bruce chuckled, playing along. "Of course, Gia is the best at taking care of me."

The crew around them immediately chimed in with flattery.

"Everyone knows Gianna runs around the set all day, working herself to exhaustion!"

"Yeah, in such a small space, she still racks up thousands of steps on Pacer Pedometer!"

I let out a cold laugh. Gianna never left the crew’s luxury trailer, enjoying air-conditioning in summer and heating in winter. There was no way she was running herself ragged.

And besides, how could Bruce ever let the woman he cherished suffer even a little?

Gianna basked in their praise, looking even more pleased.

"See, Ysabelle? You can rest easy and leave Bruce to me."

Bruce’s voice was filled with disdain. "Ysabelle has no family, so of course, she has to place all her affection on me."

"With nothing better to do, all she can do is wander around and watch others live their lives."

His words shattered me completely, cutting deeper than I ever imagined they could.

I never thought he would use something like this as a joke.

Yes, I had no family.

My mother was assaulted, and I was the result.

After giving birth, she had wanted to strangle me, but my grandmother had begged for my life, saying I was still a living being.

Unable to endure the overwhelming gossip and slander, my mother drowned herself in the bathtub.

I was raised by my grandmother, but she passed away a few years ago.

Before she left, she told me to stay by Bruce’s side and take care of him.

For a moment, I stood frozen, unable to tell her—he already had someone else.

My breath came in ragged gasps. My throat tightened.

But no words came out.

The childhood friend I had loved for so many years was now holding the sharpest knife, twisting it over and over in my heart.

Gianna scoffed and patted Bruce’s arm. "You too—knowing she has no one, couldn’t you at least introduce her to a man?"

"You two grew up together. It wouldn't be right to leave her all alone, would it?"

She looked at me with feigned pity, as if she truly had my best interests at heart.

Bruce kissed Gianna’s forehead, his voice indulgent. "Gia, you’re always so thoughtful. Otherwise, Ysabelle would just keep wasting time."

Gianna’s interest deepened. "What kind of guy do you like? Tell us, and we’ll help you find a match."

"That won’t be necessary," I spat coldly.

My gaze sharpened—there was no way she was doing this out of kindness.

Gianna pouted, looking pitifully at Bruce. "Did I do something wrong? Ysabelle seems upset."

"I’m just thinking about her. It’s not easy being a woman on her own."

Bruce’s heart softened instantly.

His brows furrowed as he scolded me harshly. "Gia is kindly introducing you to someone, and this is how you act? Don't you have a conscience?"

The people around them immediately chimed in.

"It’s only because Gianna is beautiful and kind. Otherwise, who would even bother?"

"With that temper, no wonder no one wants her."

Someone sneered at me. "Don’t tell me you’re still eyeing someone else’s boyfriend? How shameless!"

The moment those words fell, Bruce tensed up. He squeezed Gianna’s hand tighter, instantly drawing a clear line between us.

"Don’t talk nonsense. Ysabelle and I are just good friends."

He turned to Gianna and vowed sincerely, "Gia, my heart belongs only to you."

Gianna sighed dramatically as she looked at me. "We’re both women. Do you really think I don’t know what you're thinking?"

"Some people are simply never meant to be yours. Why keep holding on?"

Compared to her, it seemed like I was the one drowning in delusions.

She took out her phone and scrolled through a few photos.

"Look at these guys—I think they’d suit you well."

"This one is honest and reliable, mature and stable."

I took a closer look. "That’s just a fancy way of saying he’s old, with no real advantages."

Gianna quickly switched to another photo. "What about this one? He may not be tall, but he’s a good man who knows how to build a life and be practical."

"Short and stingy?" My words wiped the smug expression off her face. Her smile stiffened, her expression darkening.

Bruce shot me an irritated look. "Who are you to be picky? Do you even know your own worth?"

"Just pick any random guy on set and be done with it. It’s not like it matters who you marry."

I stared at him in disbelief, my nails digging into my palms.

Even a stranger wouldn’t say something so cruel.

I looked at him, a bitter smile forming on my lips. "Is this how lowly you see me?"

Bruce pressed his lips together. Maybe he realized he had gone too far. He was about to speak, but Gianna cut in before he could.

"A girl’s lifelong happiness is important. Bruce, don’t push her too hard. After all..."

After all, what?

She didn’t finish her sentence.

After all, I have no family? After all, unlike her, I wasn’t born into wealth?

Bruce, ever attentive, brought over a chair for Gianna and even slipped off her heels to massage her feet gently.

"You’re just too kind. You should think about whether she even appreciates it."

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. "That won’t be necessary. I already have a boyfriend."

Bruce’s expression instantly darkened. "You do? Since when? Why don’t I know about this?"

Three sharp questions, as if he genuinely cared.