Elara wasn't that mad. Really, she wasn't. Sure, Marisol's blow-up at Amara had been an absolute mess, and watching the casting girls swarm around her girlfriend like moths to a very attractive flame hadn't been exactly fun, but she'd gotten over worse. She knew Amara wasn't trying to steal her spotlight intentionally. It just… happened.
But, if she had to watch one more giggling wannabe actress ask Amara for "tips" on how to perfectly execute a swordfight, she might just lose it.
They were in the car now, heading back to Elara place with Marisol in tow, who was silent in the front seat, probably plotting the next phase of her master PR plan to clean up this entire disaster. Elara, on the other hand, sat next to Amara in the back, trying not to show just how much she wanted to strangle every girl who'd so much as batted an eyelash at her girlfriend.
