Chapter Six : The Rewrite
464 Words
They handed Zara a script.
Not even subtle about it anymore—just shoved the pages into her hands with highlighted cues and a patronizing smile.
She flipped through the lines, each one more insulting than the last. The producers wanted her to confront Romeo on camera, cry a little, and confess that the “rumors” about Jesse were “just a misunderstanding fueled by a vulnerable moment.”
A vulnerable moment?
They wanted her to erase herself to clean up their narrative.
Not this time.
---
Inside the production trailer, Victoria lounged like a queen at court, reviewing footage with two assistants. She didn’t even glance up when Zara walked in.
“I’m not saying it,” Zara said, voice firm. “None of it.”
Victoria finally looked at her. “I assume you mean the new monologue?”
“I’m not reading your rewrite of my story. Not this time.”
Victoria leaned back, calculating. “Zara, sweetheart. The audience has certain expectations. We’ve all seen what happens when talent gets difficult. Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Zara stepped forward, eyes blazing. “You used me. You scripted my pain. You told me I’d be safe here—and then you fed my private life to the wolves for views.”
Victoria’s smile faltered.
“You said I was the star,” Zara continued. “So guess what? I’m taking the spotlight back. Either I speak the truth, or I don’t speak at all.”
---
That afternoon, production rolled anyway.
Zara was expected to meet Romeo in the garden—roses everywhere, fairy lights strung across trellises, all meant to frame their “healing moment.”
But when the cameras started rolling, Zara veered off script.
She turned to face the camera directly.
“This isn’t the story they wanted me to tell,” she said calmly.
Off-screen, someone cursed. A boom mic dipped. But she didn’t stop.
“I came here to fall in love. And I did. But not with the man you were promised. Not with the man they picked for me.”
Romeo stared, blindsided.
She turned toward Jesse, standing just out of frame.
“I fell for someone who wasn’t supposed to be part of the show at all.”
Gasps rippled from the crew. One camera shut off. Another panned wildly.
Zara just smiled.
“You can keep filming. Or not. But this time, I’m telling my story.”
---
Later that night, Victoria’s call came through.
“You know what you just did?” she hissed.
“I did,” Zara said, “and the ratings will thank me.”
Victoria didn’t reply.
But she didn’t hang up either.
And that was all the confirmation Zara needed.
- Writer
