The next weekend, the sun dipped low, painting the living room in hues of amber and soft pink.
The air conditioner hummed faintly, a stark contrast to the sharp and animated voice of Leila , which bounced off the cream walls.
"I don't get it!". Leila's frustration was palpable as she paced the room, her heeled boots clicking against the wooden floor. "How could they just yank that role from you? You were perfect for it, and now Skye swoops in just because she's loaded? Seriously, what is this, a soap opera? Because I don't understand" .
Yvette, dressed in a loose cardigan and denim skirt sat quietly on the couch with her long black hair loosely pinned behind her head, let out a long, tired sigh as she sat on the plush sofa, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the rim of her coffee mug. She glanced up at Leila as she watched her tirade with a tired expression, trying to steady her nerves.
