Under the shade of a tree, in a patch of weeds, Melody sat comfortably in a chair, while her assistant Jesse held up a rather large mirror in front of her; she really loves acting, and if she truly wanted to practice, she'd find a less crowded place to quietly rehearse, without needing her assistant to search for such a big mirror, seemingly just to deliberately have someone take photos and upload them online.
And then sell some articles saying: how hard Melody works for her acting and so on.
"Jesse, make sure those paparazzi hiding in the dark spots take good photos, remember to edit them for me," Melody said before taking a sip of blood syrup, 'poof', she spat it out, looking at herself in the mirror, observing the arc of the blood spray.
"I think it's excellent, I really don't know what the director is thinking, how could it be any better? Could anyone possibly be better than me?"
The young girl was indignant, and as soon as she finished speaking, a shadow loomed over her.
