"Actors?"
"Low-lives?"
The words hung in the opulent air of the Wisteria Lodge, vibrating with an insult so profound it seemed to physically slap the faces of everyone at the table.
The faces of the celebrities turned a collective shade of furious red. These were people accustomed to adoration. They walked red carpets while fans screamed their names. They lived in a bubble of wealth and sycophancy where "No" was a f*******n word.
To be called "actors"—a term that in the old world implied a low social caste of itinerant entertainers—was bad enough. But "low-lives"? That was a declaration of war.
"You piece of trash!" a female star shrieked, slamming her crystal goblet onto the table. "Do you have any idea who we are? We earn hundreds of millions a year! Wherever we go, it is a tsunami
