I'm on the couch, hugging a throw pillow like it's a shield.
My phone's face-down on the coffee table. It's vibrating every few seconds. I don't check. I know what's there.
"Miss Margaux," says Alyssa, my PA, from the kitchen doorway. Her voice is small. "Do you want coffee? Or juice? i can make—"
"Water," I say. My voice cracks. "Just... water."
She nods quickly.
I watch her turn, wiping her eyes with the heel of her palm before she thinks I'll see.
God. Even her crying over this.
The front door swings open.
My manager, Carla, rushes in, papers in her hand.
She looks like she hasn't slept in days.
"Margaux," she says. No hello, No good morning, Just my name like an exhale.
I don't move.
She tosses the papers on the coffee table. Articles.
Screenshots.
Red-circled comments.
"Look at this," she says, voice tight. "Just look at this shit."
I glance.
Just enough to see the words. Homewrecker.
User.
Die.
I flinch and look away.
She sits down hard on the chair opposite me, rakes a hand through her hair.
"Gusto mo ba mag-post na tayo ng statement?"
I shake my head slowly. "What's the point?"
"Margaux—"
"They won't believe me."
She sighs, long and ragged.
Alyssa returns with the glass of water and sets it carefully in front of me.
Her hands shake a little.
"Thanks," I murmur.
She doesn't leave right away.
She hovers, Like she doesn't want to go back to crying in the kitchen.
Carla notices and softens her voice. "Alyssa, pahinga ka muna. Kami na ni Margaux."
Alyssa nods, blinking fast.
She ducks out.
Silence falls.
Carla leans forward. Drops her voice.
"Producers are backing out."
I look up at her slowly.
She meets my eyes.
Holds them.
"They're saying... if they cast you, they'll lose investors. Sponsors will drop. Even the brands that already booked you—nagba-backout."
I let out a hollow laugh. "Of course they are."
Carla's lips press into a line. "Margaux... this isn't just a slump. This is career suicide."
I swallow. My throat burns.
She waits for me to speak.
I don't.
She shifts in her seat. "They're comparing Jayda and Ken to BTS. National treasures daw. You went up against them, Margaux. That's what they're saying."
I stare at her. "I didn't 'go up against' anyone."
"I know that," Carla snaps. "But that's the narrative! That's what everyone believes!"
I lean back, pressing the pillow to my chest so tight i can't breathe.
"They really think i destroyed them," I whisper.
Carla closes her eyes. Her voice cracks. "They want you gone, Margaux."
The house is so quiet i can hear the clock ticking.
Finally, i mutter, "Mom and Dad want to sue everyone."
Carla looks up sharply. "Honestly? Let them."
I shake my head. "No."
She blinks. "Why not?"
"Because i'm done fighting." My voice trembles. I hate it. "I don't want court cases. I don't want press conferences. I don't want to defend myself to people who already hate me."
"Margaux—"
"Let them say what they want," I spit out. My eyes sting. "Let them fucking wish i was dead. I don't care anymore."
Carla's eyes shine. She looks like she might cry too.
She gets up. Starts pacing. "So what now, huh? You just let them kill your career? This was your dream!"
I flinch at that.
She stops.
Sighs. Lowers her voice.
"Margaux... please."
I can't look at her. I bury my face in the pillow.
My voice is muffled. "It was my dream. It still is."
She exhales.
Silence.
Then:
"I had a call this morning."
I peek up at her.
Carla's face is unreadable.
"Director Dalisay."
My heart skips.
She nods. "He wants you for his next film."
I blink. "What?"
"He says you're the only one he wants."
I swallow hard.
"What's the movie?"
Carla picks up her tablet. Scrolls. Finds the title.
The Bridge of Life.
She looks at me.
"It's about a woman getting destroyed in the press over a scandal she didn't cause. Being made the villain when all she did was exist."
I let out a shaky laugh. "Wow. Subtle."
Carla doesn't smile.
"He wants you. No one else. He says it's perfect for you. That you'll nail it."
My fingers dig into the pillow.
"Who's the male lead?"
"Dustin."
My eyes widen.
"Seriously?"
Carla nods. "He said yes immediately. He didn't even hesitate."
I don't realize i'm crying until the tears hit the pillow.
Carla sits down beside me this time.
Gently.
Carefully.
"He's one of the few who didn't turn on you," she whispers.
I sniff. "He's always been good to me."
Carla's hand rests on my back.
"You don't have to say yes," she says quietly. "But... it's something."
I don't answer for a long time.
I'm breathing through the tears.
Finally i sit up.
Wipe my face with the back of my hand.
I clear my throat.
"I'll do it."
Carla exhales, shaky with relief.
"You're sure?"
I nod.
Firm.
"I'm not giving up. They want me gone? Too bad."
She gives a wet laugh.
"Good," she says.
And for the first time in days, I let myself believe just for a second that maybe i'm not finished yet.