Scripted Hearts

Chapter One ~ HomeComing

"ACTION"

That word used to ignite Lily Cruz. Back then, when she walked onto a set, silence followed. Every movement, every word she delivered was art.

People leaned forward in their seats because Lily was speaking, she didn’t just act... she owned every room.

Now, the word sounded more like a curse.

****

The lights were hot that day, blinding and pressing down on her like punishment. The studio smelled of fake wood from cheap props and stale coffee left on the director’s table.

Her skin prickled under the heat of the lamps, and a thin layer of sweat danced down her forehead. She hated the makeup plastered on her, it was too thick and suffocating.

She was supposed to be playing a desperate young woman fighting for her lover’s attention. Easy role, right? Lily had lived desperation all her life, she had burned herself in it. But the words somehow refused to flow. They stumbled out in a flat, brittle tone, as if mocking the script rather than performing it.

“Cut!” The director’s voice snapped sharper than the word itself.

Lily froze, her lips still parted.

“Lily…” he sighed, dragging her name like it weighed a ton. “Again. Try again. With feeling this time.”

"Wait... did he just say with feeling?" She murmured quietly, as she wanted to laugh. If only he knew the fire simmering under her skin.

She straightened, rolled her shoulders, reset her position and let out a deep breath. "I can do this… I’ve done harder. Remember who you are. You’re Lily Cruz, goddamn it".

The clapperboard snapped again.

“Action!”

This time, she pushed harder, pouring force into the scene. Too much force that the words came out overacted, far worse than her first attempt, like some high school performance.

The director slammed his hand on the chair arm in anger. “Cut! Jesus Christ, Lily!”

Her chest tightened as if it were crushing itself. The crew began to murmur, someone coughed into their sleeve stifling a laugh. She could feel the shift in the air—she was losing them. No, she had lost them four years ago.

The makeup girl didn’t even try to hide her smirk as she reapplied lipstick on another actress. Lily hated them all. Every single one of them.

The director rubbed his temples. “Do you even know your lines?”

Lily snapped before she could stop herself. “Maybe if I had a director who knew how to handle real talent, we wouldn’t be stuck here.” that was it for her. She was fed up.

Gasps echoed around the room, followed by electric silence. Everyone waited for him to strike back.

He stood up, chair scraping against the floor, his face red as though punched by a boxer. He approached her slowly and deliberately, like a predator closing in on it's prey.

“Real talent?” His voice dropped. “Do you even hear yourself? You think you’re still Lily Cruz, the star? The girl who used to pull box office numbers?” He leaned in, voice dripping with venom. “You’re not anymore. You’re a liability. Studios don’t want you. Producers don’t call you. The only time your name trends is when it's tied to a scandal.”

Each word hit like a slap. Her nails dug into her palms, but she forced a smirk. No one could see the sting beneath.

“You’re lucky I even said yes to this movie” he spat. “You don’t bring in money anymore. This is charity work Lily. I’m doing you a favor. And if you had any sense left, you’d be grateful.”

Lily forced a laugh—sharp and cruel. “Then maybe I don’t need your cheap little film and your ‘favor.’” She mocked him, imitating the voice he used to say that word.

Dead silence followed after. The camera crew froze. The assistant director stared at his clipboard. Someone muttered to the other “Oh my gosh… this is about to get messy”

“You’re ungrateful. That’s what you are. Ungrateful” Philip Carter said bitterly.

“Ungrateful?” Lily repeated, tilting her head, letting anger seep through. “I carried Hollywood for ten years. Ten. Don’t forget that. Don’t ever forget it.”

Her mic wire brushed her skin as she yanked it off and threw it down. Without another word, she spun on her heel, heels clicking against the floor, and stormed off the set. Behind her, the weight of their stares hit harder than any slap.

Outside the set—the air was cold, but it didn’t calm her. Her chest still burned, her jaw was tight, fingers trembling as she ripped a fake engagement ring—a prop—off her hand and tossed it onto a side table.

Halfway down the hallway, the director’s voice chased her.

“Don’t you dare walk out on me, Lily!”

Of course he couldn’t let it go.

She stopped but didn’t turn. He stood at the end of the hall, red-faced, chest heaving. His script binder dangled like a weapon.

“You think you can just storm off and embarrass me in front of my own crew?”

She laughed hollowly. “Embarrass you? Sweetheart, you were doing that all by yourself.”

He stepped closer, voice booming. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t your empire anymore. Nobody bows to you. You’re… a headline people scroll past.”

“You son of a bitch...” she cursed, stepping closer. “... I worked for everything I have. I bled for this industry. You? You’re nothing but a filler name in the credits. Directors like you come and go, but Lily…? Lily stays.”

He laughed coldly. “Lily used to stay. Not anymore.”

The corridor fell into suffocating silence. She wanted to scratch his smug face off, scream until the walls cracked, but instead, she smiled. Sharp, icy, perfected for cameras and red carpets. I will not break. Not here. Not for him.

“Then enjoy your second-rate movie, Benjamin,” she said, drawing out his name like poison. “Because it’ll be the closest you’ll ever get to having a real star.”

With that, she stormed toward the exit, hips swaying, head held high.

“Lily!” he barked.

She didn’t look back. Every step echoed, each carrying the truth: he was right.

She wasn’t a star anymore. She was a scandal in heels.

Whispers followed her down the hallway, curling around her like smoke. She yanked open the exit door and stepped onto grass and soil. The chill slapped her skin—at least it was real.

Leaning against the brick wall, she pulled out a cigarette, lighting it angrily. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment to think. A few minutes later, her phone buzzed.

“Grrrr… grrrr.”