Cut! My Revenge Arc Starts Now - Chapter 2: Chapter 2

Bruce had been my everything—but he was also the one who'd hurt me the most.
I took a shaky breath, my voice barely steady. "Do you even know what today is?"
His face twisted in confusion as he scrambled for an answer.
Watching him flounder, I let out a hollow laugh. "Today's the day I sold my script."
The moment the words left my mouth, the dam broke—tears spilled over, hot and unstoppable.
For just a second, something like guilt flashed in Bruce's eyes.
Years ago, we'd both gotten into the Film Academy—him chasing his acting dreams, me diving headfirst into playwriting.
I loved him so much I lost myself in it, molding my ambitions around his. Every script I wrote, every story I polished—they were all for him.
And now, after years of pouring my soul into my work, I'd finally sold one.
But to him? I was still just the girl who fetched his coffee.
I turned away, done with this conversation.
His hand shot out, gripping my wrist. "Come on, it was just a joke. Why do you have to be so dramatic?"
"Selling a script doesn't mean it'll get made," he scoffed. "What's with the attitude?"
I stared at him, feeling something inside me go numb.
I used to believe that if I waited long enough, loved him hard enough, he'd finally see me.
But I'd forgotten—the person I should've loved most wasn't him. It was me.
The boy who once fought off bullies for me, who threw punches when some jerk slashed my bike tires—that boy was gone. Lost somewhere in his climb to fame.
I smiled bitterly, ready to yank my hand free—
Then the door swung open.
"Bruce, did you get my coffee?" Gianna's voice was honey-sweet.
Instantly, he dropped my arm like it burned him, putting distance between us—making sure she saw where his loyalty lay.
"N-no, not yet," he stammered.
That's when it hit me—the coffee wasn't even for him. It was for her.
Gianna stood there in a flawless white dress, looking every inch the princess.
"Ysabelle!" She beamed, looping her arm through Bruce's. "Here to visit the set? Don't worry, I'm taking such good care of him."
Her smile was all sugar, but her eyes? Pure poison.
Bruce grinned, playing along. "Gia's the best at looking after me."
The crew erupted in sycophantic praise.
"Gianna works so hard on set!"
"She's always running around—thousands of steps a day!"
I nearly laughed. Gianna never left the air-conditioned luxury trailer.
And Bruce? He'd never let his precious Gianna lift a finger.
She preened under the attention, then turned back to me. "See? You can leave Bruce to me."
Bruce smirked, voice dripping with contempt. "Ysabelle's got no family, so of course she clings to me. What else does she have?"
The words hit like a knife to the chest.
I had no family.
My mother was assaulted—I was the unwanted result. She'd tried to kill me at birth, but my grandmother begged her to stop.
The shame and whispers drove my mother to drown herself.
My grandmother raised me—until she died, leaving me with one last wish: Stay with Bruce. Take care of him.
I never got to tell her—he didn't want me anymore.
My breath came in ragged gasps. My throat closed up.
But no words came out.