Silent Flames

Episode5

Scarlett’s POV

I sat in front of the mirror, staring at the girl who's staring back at me. She looked like me, but also not. The dress clung too perfectly, the powdery foundation masked my real skin, and the bruise-like shadows rubbed on my cheekbones weren’t real wounds, but they might as well have been. Fake makeup or not, they still made me feel exposed, as if every flaw in me had been magnified for the world to gawk at.

I grabbed the brush on the vanity, twisting the handle nervously. I hated this. Every second of it. The door creaked open, and my mother walked in, her footsteps echoing in my ears. She always carried herself like she was walking onto a stage, poised and smiling, but tonight her eyes softened when they landed on me.

“You look beautiful,” she said gently, stepping closer, her gaze flicking over my shoulder to the mirror. “But don’t frown so much, sweetie. The cameras will catch every line.”

I pressed my lips together, trying not to scowl even harder.

Her hand landed lightly on my shoulder, squeezing in comfort. “Don’t forget the deal. This is for both of us. You were bullied by the other team member, and Liam was only trying to protect you.”

She leaned down, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear like she used to when I was a kid. I swallowed, my eyes drifting toward the corner of the mirror where the bruise makeup stood out most. Purple, ugly, and perfectly blended to look authentic.

“See?” She whispered, pointing at it with a smile like she was proud. “That’s perfect. They’ll eat it up.”

My throat tightened. I turned to look at her fully, my face crumbling despite my best effort to hold it together.

“Hey, sweetie,” she said, her tone softening again, almost pleading. “I know you don’t like it. But just know you’re doing this for me, okay? For us.”

I nodded my head stiffly, pressing my lips together again. I didn't trust my voice, and I believed it would be a disaster if I said a word. Her smile widened as though my silence was agreement. She took my hand and helped me up from the chair.

“Come on, it’s time.”

I felt like my body wasn’t my own as she led me out of the room, down the hallway, and into the waiting car. Without wasting much time, she drove off, while I sat in silence, hugging myself, while she hummed softly beside me. To her, this was an opportunity. To me, it was punishment.

When we finally got to the event grounds, the roar of the crowd was muffled through the tinted windows, but I could still feel it, electric and invasive. Security ushered us inside quickly, away from the chaos, down a corridor to a private room.

And there he was, sprawled across a chair as usual, a bottle dangling from his hand. He took a slow drink, his throat flexing, before lowering the bottle again. At the same time, his eyes flicked up at me.

“Disgusting,” I muttered, unable to help myself. I rolled my eyes and sat down, keeping as much space between us as possible.

He let out a low scoff, leaning forward with that infuriating smirk of his. “If I know what’s disgusting, it’s you.” His gaze slid to my face, to the fake bruises plastered across my cheek. “Nice touch, by the way. Really sells the damsel-in-distress vibe. Should’ve gone for a black eye too—would’ve been Oscar-worthy.”

I refused to say a word. I knew what he wanted, but I won't give him that satisfaction. However, he seemed to be enjoying it more than I did. “Do you even know what you look like right now? You look like one of those charity-case posters—please donate, she’s already broken.''

My heart burned in anger, and I clenched my fists in my lap as his words resonated in my ears. He's clearly humiliating me, and it's difficult to ignore. I opened my mouth, ready to snap back, but the door swung open before I could.

“Guys,” my mother said brightly, striding in with a clipboard tucked under her arm like some polished director about to cue her actors.

Liam straightened just enough to look polite, lifting his chin. “Good evening, Mrs. Merrick.''

“Good evening, Liam.” Her smile was polite but brisk as she surveyed the two of us. “I just want to remind you both. This isn’t about you. It’s about the story we’re telling. You’re here to make everything look real. Especially you.” She turned fully to me, her eyes narrowing just a fraction. “The public already adores him. You need to win them over. Cry, if you can. Get the sympathy; it’s easy.”

I bit my lip, holding back the words I wanted to spit. My chest rose and fell quickly, my pulse pounding in my ears. I wanted to do this before. I really did. But since he made a mockery of me earlier, I’ve changed my mind. Liam will regret ever laughing at me when I’m trying to help his miserable life.

The thought suddenly made me excited, and I turned my gaze in his direction and glared at him. Liam tilted his head back and let out a low chuckle, but his eyes gleamed, like he knew I was seconds away from snapping.

My mother’s face stiffened, then smoothed back into its perfect smile. “Get ready; you’ll be called soon,” she said lightly, before turning and walking out through the door, leaving us alone again.

I crossed my arms and turned away from Liam, staring at the far wall, determined not to let him see just how badly my hands were shaking. A knock at the door startled me, and a staff member poked their head in.

''It’s time.”

Liam rose from his chair in one fluid motion, setting the bottle aside. He stepped closer, and when he extended his arm toward me, it wasn’t just a gesture; it was a dare.

“Shall we?” He said smoothly, as if he were challenging me.

I glared at him, every muscle in my body screaming to reject him. But the door was open, the world was waiting, and I didn’t have a choice. Slowly, painfully, I reached out and placed my hand on his arm.

His smirk deepened as if he’d won something, and I couldn't help but shake my head in pity. If only he knew what was about to happen. If only he knew that I'm not the type of girl he can mess around with.