When Elena finished, the cabin remained silent.
Adrian Blackwood's lips slowly curved into a satisfied smile.
He turned toward the writer.
Kevin Fonser was still staring at Elena, his script forgotten in his hands. There was a rare, genuine smile on his face—one that hadn't appeared during any audition before this.
He nodded once, firmly.
"Yes," Kevin said quietly, without taking his eyes off her.
"That's Iris."
For the first time since the project began, there was no doubt in his voice.
The role that had remained empty for so long…
had finally found its owner.
When Elena finally finished, the cabin remained still.
Then—
Adrian Blackwood spoke.
"That was an excellent performance."
He turned to Emma, his tone firm but approving.
"You've brought in a remarkable artist.
She has real potential—and tremendous room to grow."
Emma's face lit up.
"Thank you, Director," she said sincerely.
Elena inclined her head slightly.
"Thank you, sir."
The decision had already been made.
The role of Iris now belonged to Elena Carter.
Adrian exchanged a look with the writer.
Kevin Fonser smiled, his eyes warm with certainty.
"This is exactly how I imagined Iris," he said.
"You captured her perfectly."
Then, looking directly at Elena, he added,
"Congratulations."
Elena smiled politely.
"Thank you."
The conversation shifted naturally toward contracts—
fees, schedules, terms.
Business followed brilliance.
Once everything was settled, Adrian stood.
"You should join us for dinner."
Emma was about to respond when Elena spoke
Emma politely declined the director's invitation, thanking him once again.
Moments later, Emma, Elena, and Lucas walked out together.
Outside the hotel, just before getting into the car, Emma turned to Elena.
"Elena, shooting starts next week," she said calmly.
"Make sure you adjust all your work accordingly. We'll have to travel to the capital—the shoot will be there."
Elena nodded without hesitation.
"Alright. I'll manage everything."
Emma noted her response with satisfaction.
Lucas leaned halfway into the car window, clearly refusing to let the moment end.
With an innocent smile, he said,
"Little Fire… you still haven't added me on WeChat."
He sighed dramatically.
"Which is honestly very cruel of you."
"Add me quickly," he continued, nodding seriously.
"Because when you miss me—and you will—you'll need someone to text."
He tapped his phone like a professional.
"Don't worry," he added proudly.
"I reply very fast. VIP speed.
Little Fire requests get top priority."
He stepped back, completely satisfied with his logic.
Elena looked at Lucas with polite patience—
the kind usually reserved for people about to be punched.
"Congratulations," she said flatly.
"Your face is still in one piece."
She tilted her head, unimpressed.
"If you'd like to keep it that way, you should leave. Immediately."
She pressed her fingers to her temple.
"Your voice is giving me a headache."
Then she smiled—thin, dangerous.
"And if you say one more word," she added casually,
"I'll rearrange your face so thoroughly even your fans will need subtitles."
She turned away. Lucas was just about to chase after her—
when Ryan suddenly stopped him.
"No," Ryan said quietly.
Nothing else.
Just that one word.
Lucas turned to him, clearly offended.
"Why did you stop me?" he demanded.
"I haven't even taken Little Fire's WeChat ID yet."
He ran a hand through his hair, already stressed.
"What happens when she needs me?" he continued dramatically.
"What if she misses me?"
He sighed.
"She'll be busy with shooting. I'll be busy with shooting."
"And then Little Fire will think I don't give her time."
Lucas frowned deeply.
"She's fiery. She'll definitely assume I'm ignoring her."
Ryan said nothing.
He just looked at Lucas.
Silently.
Tiredly.
What kind of chaos is this man living in? Ryan thought to himself.
One look at couples and he's already planning a tragic love story.
Out loud, Ryan stayed calm.
"Sir," he said finally,
"you can take Ms. Elena's WeChat ID from Emma Mem."
For a second, Lucas froze.
Then—
His eyes lit up.
"…Oh."
A wide grin spread across his face.
"That's actually a great idea," he said proudly.
"I'll go get it from Emma right now."
Without wasting another second, Lucas turned and hurried toward Emma—
who was already getting into her car.
Ryan watched him go, shaking his head slightly.
Some people chased fame.
Some chased success.
And some…
chased Little Fire.
Lucas walked straight up to Emma, wearing the expression of someone facing a personal tragedy.
"Emma," he said earnestly,
"give me Little Fire's WeChat ID."
Emma didn't even look up.
"She's not giving it to me," Lucas added, clearly offended.
"Can you believe that?"
He leaned closer, lowering his voice like this was a crisis.
"Come on," he pleaded.
"Just give it to me. Please."
Emma closed her eyes.
Slowly.
Her headache returned—right on schedule.
"You know how Little Fire is—she gets angry easily."
He waved a hand confidently.
"But she likes me," he added quickly.
"I know it. Deep down."
He tapped his chest.
"She just doesn't say it out loud." lowering his voice as if he's about to reveal a world-class secret.
"Honestly," he says seriously, "Little Fire and I have perfect compatibility."
Emma pauses.
Lucas continues confidently,
"The only problem is… we haven't really connected yet."
He flashes a charming smile.
"So I thought—you could help a little.
You know… bringing two destined souls together is basically charity work."
Emma's eyebrow twitches.
Inside her head:
Amazing. I'm not an agent anymore. I'm a professional matchmaker now.
She looks at him with a dry smile.
"Lucas, if confidence alone could make relationships work,
you'd be married three times by now."
Lucas blinks.
"…So that's a yes?"
Emma exhales slowly.
"Let my headache recover first.
Then we'll talk about Little Fire."
Lucas, completely shameless, leans in again.
"So… her WeChat ID?"
Emma doesn't even look at him.
"Get it in your dreams."
Lucas sighs dramatically,
Next time, Lucas swore silently, I'll take her WeChat ID no matter what. Ryan followed, shut the door, and stared ahead for a second before sighing inwardly.
I really should start carrying headache medicine with me, he thought.
I have a strong feeling I'm going to need it.
....
Alena went straight home.
Her grandmother and mother were sitting quietly on the sofa when she joined them.
"Mom," Alena said casually, "my shooting is confirmed. In a week, we're leaving for the Capital."
The moment the word Capital left her lips, the air changed.
Both women froze.
A memory—old, heavy, and unspoken—rose silently between them. Their eyes shifted toward each other, filled with something they wanted to say… yet couldn't.
The silence stretched.
Alina noticed it. Alena looked at her mother and grandmother's faces.
Something was wrong.
"Mom… what happened?" she asked softly.
Her mother forced a small smile, hiding the fear in her eyes.
"Nothing, dear," she said. "It's nothing."
But Alena could tell—
it wasn't nothing.
Alena didn't ask anything further.
She started talking about her film instead—about the role she had been selected for, about the script, the director, and how shooting would begin soon.
Her mother and grandmother listened quietly.
They were happy for her.
It showed clearly on their faces—the proud smiles, the warmth in their eyes.
Yet…
the moment Capital was mentioned, a shadow passed through their expressions.
A fear they couldn't completely hide.
After talking for a while, Alena smiled, wished them good night, and went to her room to rest.
The living room fell silent.
Her grandmother and mother remained seated on the sofa, side by side.
Neither spoke.
Both were lost in memories they never wanted to remember…
memories tied to the Capital.
And those memories were slowly waking up again.
Alena's mother, Eleven, slowly turned toward her mother-in-law.
"Mom… Alena is going to the Capital," she said quietly.
"I know she would have to go there someday. I can't keep her in this city forever," her voice trembled.
"But now that this day is actually coming… I'm scared. I'm really scared."
She lowered her gaze, her hands tightening in her lap.
"I'm worried about my daughter."
Her mother-in-law gently placed a hand on Eleven's shoulder, grounding her.
"We can't stop Alena, Evelyn," she said softly.
"The life we lived—filled with fear and pain—we cannot let her live that same life."
She paused, her eyes distant.
"Besides, it's been a long time since then. Maybe no one even remembers anymore.
By the time Alena goes there… those people may have already forgotten everything."
But even as she said it, the silence in the room suggested otherwise.
Some memories never truly fade.