Olivia's POV
As the show comes to an end, I do my best to maintain a facade of composure, drawing the curtains with a forced smile plastered on my face. Inside, however, I'm seething with embarrassment and anger at Alexander's false revelation.
There's no time to clarify the situation to the viewers as my directors prompt me about the time. I watch in frustration as the closing credits roll, signaling the end of the show.
But before I can even gather my thoughts, Alexander jumps to his feet, his expression shifting to one of seriousness as he prepares to leave. I give him a deathly glare as he makes his way towards the door, his nonchalant demeanor only adding fuel to the fire burning inside me.
I watch as my manager greets and thanks Alexander, his wide smile stretching from ear to ear as he invites him back for another appearance. I can't help but scoff at the sight, my frustration mounting with each passing second.
As Alexander prepares to leave, I feel a surge of anger rising within me, fueled by the injustice of his false declaration. I rush towards him, my fiery glare fixed firmly on his face as I demand answers.
"Why would you make up something like that?" I seethe, my voice barely above a whisper as I confront him. "You knew it wasn't true, so why lie to everyone?"
Alexander smirks in response, his expression infuriatingly smug as he raises an eyebrow in question. "Isn't it true?" he retorts, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Why are you so upset if there's nothing between us?"
I grit my teeth in frustration, struggling to contain the rage bubbling inside me. But before I can respond, Alexander dismisses me with a wave of his hand, his attention already focused on the door.
As he moves to leave, I instinctively grab his arm, my fingers curling into a tight grip on the fabric of his tailor-made suit. He quickly prys my hands off, a look of disdain crossing his face as he warns me to back off.
But Alexander quickly prys my hands off, telling me never to touch him again because I can't afford his expensive suit. I curse him under my breath, telling him I've never met a self-centered, stupid man like him before.
Suddenly, my manager senses the tension between us and approaches, asking what the matter is. Alexander wastes no time in spinning the situation, claiming that his "girlfriend" here—pointing to me—is blushing because of the revelation he made on live TV.
My manager laughs heartily, asking why I had kept this a secret. But before I can protest, Alexander cuts me off, saying something else that sets my blood boiling.
I glare at him, insult him in my head, and lash out at him in whispers, angrily telling him that if he thinks he can ruin my reputation as a journalist, he's playing with fire. But he just smirks and tells me we'll see about that.
As he leaves, I shout after him, refusing to back down. But he ignores me, disappearing into his car as it drives away, leaving me stranded in front of the entrance to the studio, seething with rage and frustration
I curse under my breath, my anger boiling over as I unleash a tirade of insults at him.
As he walks away, I'm left standing alone in front of the studio entrance, my heart pounding with frustration and indignation. I watch helplessly as his car pulls away, leaving me stranded in the aftermath of our heated exchange.
But as I stand there, a sense of determination washes over me. I refuse to let Alexander Frost get the best of me. If he thinks he can manipulate me and tarnish my reputation as a journalist, he's sorely mistaken.
With a steely resolve, I square my shoulders and set my jaw, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead. Because if there's one thing I've learned from this encounter, it's that I won't let anyone—not even Alexander Frost—dictate the course of my life.
As I go about my day, the weight of Alexander's false revelation hangs heavy on my shoulders, casting a dark cloud over everything I do. My colleagues, both male and female, approach me with curious glances and probing questions, eager to know the truth behind Alexander's declaration.
But no matter how many times I deny any involvement with Alexander, my words seem to fall on deaf ears. Some of my female colleagues even go as far as accusing me of being just another one of Alexander's flings, insisting that he'll use me and discard me like he's done with so many others before.
The accusations sting, leaving me feeling isolated and misunderstood. I try to focus on my work, but the constant whispers and judgmental looks from my colleagues make it nearly impossible to concentrate. By the time evening rolls around, my mood has soured, and I can't wait to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the studio.
When I finally arrive home, my friend Sarah immediately notices that something is wrong. But I brush off her concern, retreating to my room and locking the door behind me. I can't bear to face anyone, not even my closest friend.
Alone in my room, I sink onto my bed, tears streaming down my cheeks as I relive the humiliation and frustration of the day. I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of doubt and suspicion, with no one to offer me a lifeline.
As Sarah knocks on my door, calling out to me, I can't bring myself to respond. I curl up on my bed, burying my face in my pillow as I cry myself to sleep, the weight of the day's events pressing down on me like a heavy burden.
The torture of the day lingers in my mind, haunting me even in my dreams. And as I drift off into a fitful sleep, I can't help but wonder how I'll ever find a way to escape the tangled web of lies and deceit that Alexander Frost has woven around me.