Chapter Text
The lights dim to set the mood, the crowd’s chatter fades, cameras swing into position, technicians yell “two minutes to showtime,” and that’s the exact moment it hits me: this is really happening. I’m about to step onto the Golden Globes stage, surrounded by the most famous actors and directors of the moment, to perform a scene rehearsed in five days. Total panic.
The smell of makeup and hairspray hits my nose, mixed with the sweet, enveloping scent of Chanel and Dior from the actors nearby. From the stage, already audible, come the audience’s applause and laughter. My hands are sweating, my legs trembling, my heart racing wildly. A shiver runs down my spine, and every fiber of my body screams that I’m not ready for this.
And if that wasn’t enough to send a normal, reasonable person into hyperventilation, let’s add that right next to me, so close I can even smell her dark, penetrating perfume, Agatha Harkness is getting her touch-ups before going on stage. Yes, you heard that right. The fucking Agatha Harkness. The actress with more awards than could fit on the shelves in her house. The woman with a gaze so sharp it could kill. Who occupies space as if she owns it, as if she owes nothing to anyone. The same woman who, for the past week, has done nothing but insult my acting skills (non-existent, I admit).
If someone had told me a week ago, while I was studying for my last university exams, that I would end up in a situation like this, I would never have believed it. In fact, I probably would have laughed and told them to get their head checked. Me, the least extroverted person in the world, who gets embarrassed even taking a selfie in public, acting on stage? Absolutely not, not even with a gun to my head.
But apparently the universe has a twisted sense of humor, because here I am, backstage at one of the most anticipated events of the year, in complete panic, short of breath, and feeling like I’m about to throw up, mentally cursing my sister for getting me into this mess. On that note, I’m already devising a plan to make her pay.
But let’s start from when everything began to go wrong.