Rebirth: Supporting Actress/C18 She Was Crying a Little too Loudly.
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Rebirth: Supporting Actress/C18 She Was Crying a Little too Loudly.
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C18 She Was Crying a Little too Loudly.

The crowd around gasped audibly, and even the burly men touched the goosebumps on their arms. A spider that size would unsettle anyone, yet they hadn't expected the young, slight girl to handle it with such composure.

The filming location was on the outskirts of town. Diantha briskly walked for a while before setting the spider down in a copse of trees.

She had caught this spider in her yard days earlier. It seemed to be a mutated, slightly larger version of the white-backed spider, but she had tested it and found it non-venomous. She had kept it in a box since then, biding its time for today's reveal.

If Diantha's recollections from her past life were accurate, Anthea had an intense fear of insects, spiders in particular.

The white-backed spider, pampered by Diantha's care, was reluctant to leave. It attempted to scale her leg but paused under her gaze, as if sensing something, then obediently scurried off into the forest's depths.

Upon Diantha's return to the set, she found Anthea with a flushed, tear-streaked face, insisting through sobs, "My foot really hurts, I'm not pretending..."

Layla stood by, her usual consolations absent, her expression odd after witnessing Anthea's agile jump.

Diantha caught Sabino's eye; he watched Anthea with a complex look, a trace of displeasure evident. Diantha felt a surge of satisfaction, her scheme to erode Sabino's fondness for Anthea was working.

She had gone to great lengths to show her brother Anthea's true colors, not the virtue and strength she pretended.

Approaching Sabino cheerfully, Diantha noticed his dry lips and remembered his lifelong aversion to water. About to fetch him a bottle, she recalled his slight obsession with cleanliness. She pulled out a disinfectant wipe, cleaned her hands, then offered him a bottle of water from her bag. "Mr. Foster, would you like some water?"

Sabino eyed Diantha, his gaze flicking to her right hand—the one that had caught the spider—before accepting the bottle with a quiet thanks.

It had been ages since Diantha had spoken to her brother. Eager to engage, she sought a conversation starter, glancing at Anthea and Layla. "What's going on over there?"

"She's crying," Sabino murmured, lips tightening, brows knitting. "It's rather loud."

He reached for his phone, only to remember Glean's directive to focus on the script instead of his phone while on set. With a touch of frustration, Sabino picked up the script from a nearby table cluttered with daily items and began to read.

Diantha was puzzled. Was Sabino truly annoyed by Anthea's commotion, or was he feeling pity? She couldn't take any chances; Anthea's tears had a powerful effect on men, as Diantha well knew from her past life. She decided to reinforce her protective measures.

With a smile, Diantha approached Anthea. "Don't worry, Teacher Anthea. That spider species is quite docile and not very poisonous. Plus, I've taken it far away—it won't be coming back."

The crowd, assuming Diantha had dispatched the sizable spider to the great beyond, grew in their silent admiration for her.

Anthea's wails persisted, grating on everyone's nerves.

Diantha extended her hand to comfort her, but Anthea, recognizing the hand that had held the spider, shrieked and batted it away, leaping aside. "Don't touch me!"

Quickly regaining her composure, Anthea stammered apologies, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I was just terrified..."

Diantha, though she had evaded Anthea's slap, recoiled and feigned distress, her voice soft, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you..."

She then subtly revealed the red mark on her hand before covering it again, as if shy. In truth, Diantha's hands were so delicate that even a gentle squeeze could leave a mark.

The crowd's esteem for Diantha, efficient and kind-hearted, grew as they saw the 'injured' girl. A voice among them muttered, "Tsk, no good deed goes unpunished."

"I never would have guessed Anthea was that kind of person. She lied and even resorted to violence. I used to really like her..."

"She faked an injury and accused Mrs. Edwards of pushing her. In our group, she played the victim, but in reality, she wasn't hurt at all. Dith was just trying to be kind and comfort her, and she lashed out at him. It makes me think that the rumor about Mrs. Edwards pushing her might have been all her own doing."

"Poor Dith..."

Anthea shook her head in disbelief, her eyes fixed on the reddened back of Diantha's hand, the cold words of those around her cutting deep.

"I didn't hit her, I swear..."

Diantha curled in on herself, her voice barely above a whisper, "It was my own clumsiness..."

On the outside, she appeared distressed and anxious, yet inside, a cold laugh echoed. She was tempted to confront Anthea: have you ever felt the sting of being beyond defense?

Anthea glared at Diantha, "I've never even met you before. Why would you frame me like this?"

Diantha simply hunched her shoulders, staying silent. Internally, she mused: Isn't this just a taste of your own medicine? Your pitiful act, playing the victim – doesn't it look familiar to you?

"I didn't hit you. You're faking it. Show me your hand – I bet there's not a scratch on it!"

Anthea stepped forward, reaching for Diantha's hand.


Before Diantha could respond, Hollis stepped in, pulling her to safety behind him.

Hollis examined Diantha's reddened hand, his brow furrowed. He instinctively reached for a bottle of Yunnan Baiyao to spray on her hand but stopped midway, changing course and pressing the bottle into Diantha's uninjured hand instead. "Here, take this. Mr. Fisher sent you the medicine."

Diantha caught the bottle, surprised, and smiled her thanks to Hollis, then turned and thanked Glean as well.

"Why thank me? Just thank Mr. Fisher!" Hollis said, scratching his head, a blush creeping up his ears, hidden beneath his tousled hair.

Glean gave Hollis a curious look but remained silent.


Anthea, eyes brimming with tears, watched Hollis's retreating back. "Brother Hollis, please believe me. I didn't hit her..."

Hollis glanced back at her, his eyes cold.

Anthea's gaze was pleading as she looked at Hollis. She had dined with him and Elder Brother Cassius before and considered them acquaintances. Hollis, handsome and amiable, had even given her an autographed photo when he learned she was a fan. She was sure he would believe her.

Anthea waited for Hollis's response with hope in her eyes, but he just frowned and remained silent.


Laughter and whispers spread through the crowd. "After Director Edwards, this missy is acting like she knows Hollis, calling him 'big brother' as if they're close. She's got no shame."

"Does it look like Hollis cares about her at all?"

"You think those love triangle rumors were just made up by those marketing accounts? Maybe Director Edwards really did see her as just the girl next door, looking out for her."

"Yeah, even the Edwards Group's official blog said as much."

"But everyone thought the official blog was just putting on a front. Now it seems strange – why didn't anyone believe the official statement?"

"It's all because those marketing accounts exaggerated everything for clicks."

"Think about it, where do those marketing stories come from? Anthea herself spins tales. Every time she's asked about her relationship with Director Edwards, she acts all coy, giving those accounts something to latch onto."

Reflecting on it, how did Anthea respond whenever reporters asked about her relationship with Cassius? "Please, don't think like that. It's not what you imagine. It's not fair to Elder Brother Cassius." She'd blush and lower her head, making it difficult for anyone not to speculate.


Anthea's complexion turned ashen as she listened to the surrounding chatter.

They were right. When the rumors with Elder Brother Cassius first surfaced, she told the media there was nothing romantic between them, but nobody believed her then.

Now that some people were finally seeing her relationship with Cassius for what it was – not the romantic entanglement the media portrayed – she should have felt relieved. So why did it feel like her heart was being pricked with needles?


The middle-aged doctor glanced at the director's assistant who had brought him along. He had just happened to witness Anthea's sprightly leap, so he found it odd to see her now, full of life, while Diantha stood there, shoulders drawn in. He thought to himself, 'This industry is a mess,' as he adjusted his glasses and asked the assistant, "Where's the girl who's seriously injured?"

Scattered laughter filled the air.

The director's assistant was fraught with concern. Why did life have to be so complicated?

He quickly considered the best way to handle the situation. Actor rumors were trivial, but if the filming and the movie's reputation suffered, that would be a real problem.

"My apologies for the interruption, everyone. Has there been any change in Miss Perry's foot injury? Director Edwards has ordered that should there be any complications, Miss Perry must be taken to the hospital without delay."

Upon hearing the voice, the director's assistant looked up with a sense of relief washing over him, akin to finding a lifeline. There stood Heyden, impeccably dressed in a suit, his posture exuding confidence.

Libre Baskerville
Gentium Book Basic
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