Divorcing Hollywood’s Genius: I Am My Own Muse Chapter 04
Mavis looked miserable. After hesitating for a few seconds, she spoke up anyway.
“Scarlett, whether it’s true or false, just ask him. He’s right here.”
I looked down at my silent phone.
The news had been out for hours, yet Ronan hadn’t sent a single text—he didn’t even deign to explain things to me anymore.
Mavis opened her mouth, but ultimately just let out a heavy sigh.
Before long, she violently hurled her phone onto the couch, gritting her teeth.
“Those bastards, pulling this kind of stunt on us?”
I opened my phone, only to see that the public narrative had somehow flipped upside down.
Someone leaked a story claiming that the woman caught in the photos wasn’t Bianca, but me!
Bianca and I were of similar age, build, and type, and we had long been labeled “destined rivals.”
Now, public opinion shifted entirely, claiming I was throwing myself at Ronan, willing to “sell my body” just to secure a role, even going so far as to book the exact same hotel.
Bianca just happened to post an update on Instagram right then: [Instead of wasting time on cheap tricks, try improving yourself.]
The post practically reeked of gunpowder.
Mavis was shaking with rage. “This was absolutely orchestrated. Who the hell is out to destroy us?”
Ronan’s call finally came, long overdue.
“I’m sorry, Scarlett. This movie is crucial for me. My leading lady cannot be tainted by negative press.”
I felt as though I were listening to the world’s biggest joke.
“So what? You let them dump this pile of garbage on my name instead? Do you have any idea what people are calling me right now?”
His voice carried that familiar, grating impatience.
“You’re an influencer celebrity. Getting slammed gives you engagement—other people would beg for that kind of buzz. Besides, a few insults from netizens won’t kill you.”
“Fine, if the backlash gets out of hand, I’ll just make our marriage public. Will that do?”
Holding the phone, my heart turned to ice.
I had asked to go public so many times in the past, and he had refused every single time.
He said the timing was wrong, his career wasn’t stable, and the Vale family wouldn’t accept an actress who did nothing but walk red carpets…
So many excuses, yet none of them held up against protecting Bianca’s reputation.
“No need.”
I hung up.
The moment the screen went dark, my eyes caught a line from the script.
The protagonist, Sable Rowe, lets out a disdainful smirk: [The most worthless thing in this world is a woman’s devotion.]
From that day on, Ronan practically vanished from my life.
I refrained from responding to any of the online chatter—no clarifications, no crying out for sympathy—I just wanted to focus entirely on delivering a solid performance.
As wrapping up neared, Nora’s complexion grew worse by the day.
“I originally intended to submit this film to festivals and push for an awards season release. But now, all the distribution and marketing arrangements we agreed on have fallen through.”
My heart sank.
Ronan and Bianca carried massive star power, not to mention the weight of the Vale family and Vale Pictures backing them.
His films were always a staple for the awards circuit.
Many production houses would actively move their dates to avoid a head-on collision with him.
It was only natural that distributors wouldn’t prioritize us.
Nora hung her head.
“To ensure the quality of the film, we poured all our funds into production. We don’t have the money to handle marketing ourselves.”
Looking at her bloodshot eyes, I said firmly, “It’s fine. I have the money.”
She looked up in a daze. I patted her shoulder with a smile.
“This is our collective lifeblood, isn’t it? Besides, I believe that if we clinch an Aureate Award, sponsors will come knocking on our door themselves.”
Just as Nora looked visibly moved, a mocking voice echoed from behind us.
“You think you’re going to the Aureate Awards? You’re daydreaming.”
Ronan marched over with long strides.
“Scarlett, I don’t care if you buy luxury bags or jewelry, but you cannot waste money on something this pointless. I don’t approve, do you hear me?”
I looked up at him. Since our bitter parting that night, this was the first time he stood so close to me.
No pleasantries, no asking how I was doing—only accusations.
I couldn’t help but chuckle softly.
“Ronan, I earned that money, so I should have the absolute right to spend it as I please. If you don’t agree, we can always get a divorce.”
Ignoring the stunned expression on his face, I turned and walked away.
I had compromised so many times before; I wasn’t going to lose this time.
Win or lose, I was going to fight this battle myself.
…
The Aureate Awards ceremony was set for July.
I walked into the venue alongside Nora, squarely throwing back my shoulders under the gaze of the crowd.
The venue was filled with mocking looks—an eye-candy actress? A fresh graduate director? A low-budget independent women’s film? How could they possibly make the cut for the Aureate Awards?
Nora had done an exceptional job keeping things under wraps, waiting until today to release the official stills and the first teaser trailer.
Online forums were already exploding, though I remained entirely oblivious.
Sitting in the row behind us was Ronan’s crew. I knew his gaze was fixed intently on me.
But I didn’t turn back.
I simply squeezed my fingers together, letting out a long breath.
I wanted to prove to everyone that Ronan’s choice was wrong, that I wasn’t a talentless ornament.
More importantly, women should never be treated as mere accessories to men.
Up ahead, the massive screen was about to light up, and the golden trophy of the Aureate Awards glittered beneath the spotlights.
Looking up at that gleaming prize, I grasped Nora’s hand.
“Are you ready?”