Wasn't I enough? Was I not pretty enough? Sure, Vera had the curves, the sultry smirks, the revealing clothes that turned heads everywhere she went. But hadn't Ethan always told me he preferred women who were different? Hadn't he sworn that he hated women like her?

I didn't know what broke me more: the fact that it was Vera sitting there, smug and victorious; the expression of cruel satisfaction painted across her face as I cried; or the cold, detached glances Ethan shot me, like my pain was nothing but a mild inconvenience.

"Look, Gilda," Ethan finally spoke, and I stared, hanging on to every word as though he might still salvage himself.

"Check yourself out... from head to toe." His eyes raked over me, filled with disgust and disdain.

I looked down at myself. A plain red dress, loose-fitting and modest. Nothing like the bum shorts and crop top Vera had tossed carelessly on the floor. But wasn't this who he said he wanted? A decent girl. He had mocked women like Vera before. He had praised me for being different. For being pure till he'd taken my virginity, or so he thought.

"I don't understand you, Ethan." My voice shook as I reached toward him, seeking any scrap of validation. "What's wrong with my dressing? I'm covered, I'm decent. Isn't that what you always wanted?"

He stepped back from my touch like I was poison, nearly making me stumble. His words gutted me.

"That was before, Gilda. Now I love women like Vera. And besides..." He paused, his lips curling cruelly. "I never loved you from the start. I only used you to get closer to her. She's the one I wanted all along."

"What?" My heart lurched painfully in my chest. "Ethan... no, you can't be serious. You told me you loved me. You told me-"

"Ohhh, Gilda, my beloved sister..." Vera's mocking voice rang from the bed, her tongue clicking as she shook her head with feigned pity.

Beloved? I almost choked on the word. Vera had never loved me, never even tolerated me. Her hatred for me was something I had felt in my bones long before tonight. I didn't need anyone to tell me she had nothing but venom to offer.

"Ethan has made his choice," she snapped suddenly, her smugness turning sharp. "Why can't you accept it? He's never been interested in you. He only used you to reach me. Can't you scrape together even an ounce of self-respect and leave?"

Her eyes glittered with malice as she leaned forward, voice dripping venom. "Oh, wait. I forgot - you don't have any. With a whore like you, whose hole men's dicks could get lost in, what shred of shame could you possibly have left? Not that I blame you. From where I stand, it must run in your genes. Just like your mother's."

"Whoa, Vera, you ate with that statement!" Ethan's laugh rang out, mocking, like her cruelty was some kind of entertainment.

I couldn't take it anymore. The insult lodged deep in my chest, choking me. My legs moved on their own as I turned to leave, my vision blurred with tears that refused to stop spilling.

"Come on, Gilda!" Ethan's voice chased after me, cruel and unrelenting. "It's not like I forced anything on you! Did you really think someone as wealthy as I am would settle for an upcoming actress like you? Be serious! You don't even get important roles, you're nothing but the overworked cast shoved into the background! What bragging rights would being with someone like you ever give me in front of my friends?"

Vera's laughter followed next, ringing sharp in my ears, but I didn't turn back. I didn't dare give her the satisfaction of seeing me crumble completely.

All I wanted was to run, to cry until my chest caved in, to scream until my throat bled. To purge this pain from my soul.

Why hadn't I noticed? Why hadn't I seen that I was nothing more than a pawn to him? Why hadn't I realized I was being toyed with and played like a fool?

Why did my life have to feel like one endless script of heartbreak? Why did it seem that everyone who entered it only came to tear me down further and carve deeper wounds into scars that I was still trying to heal?

*****

It's true what they say about the sad news reported on polygamous homes. I thought bitterly as I stepped into the bar, memories tugging me back to the beginning, back to when my father had married my mother and brought us to live with his family.

Vera's mother had been barren for ten years of their union, and when her husband secretly began a relationship with my mother, his secretary, she got pregnant with me only months later.

That pregnancy forced him to make her his second wife. But nothing good came of it. His first wife never forgave her, and when she too conceived and gave birth to Vera shortly after, all hell broke loose.

I shook the thought away and glanced around the bar, scanning for the table where the team from the recently concluded movie sat.

Truthfully, I hadn't planned to attend. But weighed down by the sting of my recent betrayal, I had wanted to drown myself in the distraction of the party. When I heard Vera had declined to come, I thought it safe. And since today was my birthday, it felt like a double win. I could slip in quietly, blend into the crowd, forget my sorrow for a night and secretly celebrate the twenty-seventh birthday I was too broke to mark on my own.

But then my eyes flickered toward the hotel lounge, and I was taken aback when I saw Vera.

My jaw slackened. What in God's name was she doing here? I had thought such gatherings were beneath her. Why had she suddenly appeared, as though fate had decided to mock me? My lips went pale as the only thought in my head was to turn and leave before anyone noticed.

Unfortunately, someone already had.

Gilda!!" a familiar voice rang out, it was the girl who had played the palace maid beside me. She waved with such enthusiasm, probably thinking I had lost my way.

Heat flushed through me from embarrassment. Swallowing hard, I forced myself forward, each step heavier than the last. There was no sneaking out now, not with so many eyes shifting in my direction.

Silently, I prayed that this wouldn't be as bad as I feared. That I wouldn't end the night regretting my decision to come.

"Gildaaa!!" Vera's voice, sweet as poisoned honey, cut through the air the very moment I sat down at the far end of a long, crowded bench.

The main cast sat comfortably on cushioned chairs and polished wooden stools, their placement reflecting the weight of their roles. The extras were crammed together on a hard bench, stacked side by side.

No one here knew Vera was my sister. She had made sure of that. Despite sharing the same surname, she always pretended not to know me in public, and people believed her and her lies about it being a coincidence. I doubted she was calling me now out of kindness.

"I read in your information that you turn twenty-seven today," she announced suddenly. Her words paused, hanging in the air just long enough to draw the crowd's attention to me before she continued.

"I was surprised, for real. Don't get me wrong. But twenty-seven and still working as an extra on movie sets? Honestly, I don't see a future for such a person in this industry." Her voice rang with deliberate sweetness, a venom masked as concern. "If you'd ask me, I suggest you find a man to get you pregnant so you can tie him down with the child and make him marry you. You know what they say, women expire too easily. And with how broke you look, I doubt you could even afford surrogacy in the future if you don't take my advice."

I sat, waiting and hoping for someone atleast, to counter her words. After all, she was only a year younger than me, twenty-six herself. If her cruel analogy applied to me, then what made her think she was immune to the same fate? But instead of protest, I heard murmurs of agreement ripple through the bench. Heads nodded and lips curved in approval.

"I never knew you were this smart, Vera. I thought you were only good at acting," a lady said, raising her glass of wine before gulping it down. She sat perched on a stool; her role must have carried more weight in the movie. "What good advice you gave her. It's now left for her to decide whether to follow or not."

"With how she looks, I bet she's whored herself around to so many men," a man snickered. "I haven't seen any real talent whenever she acts. No doubt her sponsors always leave her stranded after, because sex doesn't equate to talent."

I didn't even flinch at his words. He was shameless, and the married man who had tried forcing himself on me yesterday, promising me a better role than the palace maid I'd been stuck with. His bitterness was only resentment because I had turned him down.

"She's twenty-seven already and hasn't made any real progress in her career? Gosh, I'd gladly quit. She has three more years until she clocks thirty. As I see it, no man will be willing to marry a liability. Gilda, take Vera's advice. She's such a good person, always looking out for everyone's future," another voice chimed in, dripping with mock pity.

"I'm barely twenty-one and I've already achieved a significant feat in my career. Vera is barely twenty-six and already an international act. Heavens, even if I were under a curse, geezzz, I pray it never gets to the level of Gilda's!" another lady whispered, though her words carried just loud enough for everyone to catch.

The table erupted with laughter at her jab, even the girl seated beside me joined in, as though cruelty was the evening's entertainment.

Heat rushed to my face, and my chest tightened. Too embarrassed to sit there any longer, I excused myself with the pretense of going to the restroom. I wasn't pressed, I just desperately needed the privacy it promised, a sliver of space to gather what remained of my dignity before facing them again.

I shouldn't have come. The thought churned in my head, filling me with regret.

I hadn't reached the restroom when a strong hand clamped around my wrist.

Instinctively, I braced to writhe free, even ready to sink my teeth into the hand if I had to. But when I turned and saw my manager, relief washed over me. I was grateful I hadn't unleashed my fight-or-flight instinct on him.

"We need to talk!" he said, dragging me along the hallway that stretched opposite the restroom.

I trusted him, so I didn't resist. Yesterday, when I found out my lead role had been stripped from me, he had fought to at least secure me a spot as an extra. It wasn't much, but it was something. The thought that he had stood up for me, even in that small way, warmed my heart.

We stopped at a door marked Storage Room. He pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked it.

For a second, I froze. "Wait... is this where we're supposed to talk? Why here? The hallway is already quiet enough. No one has passed since we walked down here. What could we possibly have to discuss that you need to be in this place?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he sighed and ran a hand through his hair before turning to me.

"Look, Gilda... I'm sorry. You're talented, yes, I'll give you that. But you don't have sponsors..."

His words instantly set off alarms in my head. I tried to pull my wrist free from his grip, but he only tightened it. Something about his tone wasn't right.

"I'm doing this because I have to protect my own career," he continued, avoiding my eyes. "If you attend the audition tomorrow and land that lead role, my head will roll. I have a family to feed, Gilda. I can't risk it. So... you'll have to stay here until it's over. I promise, I'll come back for you once the audition ends."

Before I could even process what he was saying, he shoved me inside the room...

I grabbed the doorknob, refusing to let go. My heart raced as I struggled against it, desperate to open it back up. But his strength overpowered mine. Seconds later, I heard the sharp click of the lock sliding into place.

Horror washed through me.

"Why? Why do people keep doing this to me?!" I screamed, pounding on the door. "Am I the only one who doesn't deserve a chance? Am I the one with no responsibilities to take care of?"

The silence that followed nearly broke me.

Finally, his muffled voice seeped through the door. "I'm sorry, Gilda. I knew you'd be stubborn, that's why I had no choice. The management doesn't want anyone standing in Vera's way. She's the star now. Maybe if you had half her fame, you wouldn't be here."

His footsteps faded, leaving me in the suffocating quiet of my new prison.

I slid down against the cold door, my body folding into itself. Curling my legs until my knees touched my jaw, I hugged myself tightly. Again, Vera. Always Vera. It was as if her shadow was destined to strangle every flicker of light in my life.

The air smelled faintly of lavender, so floral and fresh and so out of place. I frowned. Why would a storage room carry such a scent when it should reek of dust, mildew and forgotten things?

Curiosity pushed me to my feet. I fumbled for my old smartphone, its cracked screen glowing faintly as I turned on the flashlight. The beam cut through the dimness, brushing over crates, bags and shadows until I froze.

Two wide, doe-like eyes stared back at me from behind a sack of potatoes.

It was a child.

Startled, I blinked. The girl looked so small and fragile, tucked away like a ghost. The moment she realized I wasn't a threat, she bolted forward. Before I could steady myself, she flung herself into my arms, knocking me backward onto the floor.

Her tiny arms wrapped tightly around me.

Instinctively, I held her, my palm moving in slow circles across her trembling back. "It's okay," I whispered without even thinking. "You're safe now."

And just like that, the crushing weight in my chest seemed to ease. My anger, my shame, my despair....... everything was drowned out by the simple act of holding her. For the first time in hours, maybe even days, I felt something other than pain.

*****

I pressed the alarm bell in my father's living room again. The security at the gate had already let me in, but the real problem lay ahead, waiting for either my stepmother or my sister to open the main door. For over an hour now, I had been pressing that bell, yet none of them showed up.

I glanced at my phone to check the time. It was barely 9 pm. Meaning I had returned around eight.

I would have been home much earlier, but I had given the little girl all the money I had on me to buy herself some sweets after dropping her out of the storage room through that tiny window.

It had been an excruciating task, one that left me with bruises and an ugly cut on my arm. But because the girl was safe, I didn't mind the pain.

"Who is that fool disturbing someone's sleep at this time? How dare you...!" a voice thundered from inside.

Finally, the door creaked open and fury greeted me, Vera's face twisted with rage. But the moment she saw it was me, all that anger drained, leaving her pale and startled, as though she had seen a ghost.

Vera never slept this early. Besides, the party at the club near the hotel wasn't supposed to end until 2 a.m. at the earliest. So why was she here, already in her pajamas, eyes heavy with sleep? In my judgment, she must have been in bed for a long time now.

Perhaps she returned home when she got bored, realizing she had no one left to torment after locking me up in the storage room. Or maybe she was simply too baffled at how I managed to free myself, since she had taken every measure to keep me trapped just so I wouldn't stand a chance at the role she was dying to snatch tomorrow.

"You?" she gasped, her tone a mix of surprise and confusion, staring at me like I was some kind of apparition.

I said nothing. I had no strength to waste on her. Silently, I walked past her through the gap in the door. I was too exhausted for arguments.

All I wanted was to rest my head on my bed. At least that much was still mine until tomorrow, when I would once again be forced to shoulder all the house chores because they refused to hire maids. To them, I was enough.

"The daughter of a whore is finally back," my stepmother's voice rang out from the living room just as I reached for the stairs.

I stopped for a second, my jaw tightening. This was my father's house, the only reason I still endured their cruelty. That and the simple fact that I had no money to find a place of my own.

A bitter hiss escaped me inwardly. If only I hadn't been foolish enough to spend all my savings on that so-called love of mine, who turned out to be nothing but a user, I wouldn't still be stuck here.

"Here. I've been waiting for you to hand this over," my stepmother said, stretching a brown envelope toward me.

The television flickered in the background with the documentary she was watching. She had been awake the entire time I stood outside, pressing the alarm bell endlessly, yet she hadn't thought it fit to open the door.

Swallowing my rising frustration, I stepped toward her and reached for the envelope and opened it. Halfway through, I froze. My eyes narrowed, and I looked straight at her, my expression hardening with sudden fire.