Changes

The next few days felt utterly unreal to Nelly. The entire team, and even some departments of the company, revolved around her.

Stacks of screenplays about love stories filled the coffee table in her living room—at least twenty or thirty of them.

One screenwriter after another came in person to tell her what their stories were about and what kind of effect they hoped to achieve.

She sat on the sofa while the female assistant beside her, who was a little older than her, cleaned the dead skin from her hands and filed her nails.

The male assistant kept putting things where they belonged. It was clearly winter, and he was sweating heavily from exhaustion, yet he still grinned and insisted he wasn't tired.

Her agent sat to one side with a stern expression, discussing the details to come with the screenwriters and the company's producers, as though they were discussing who would win Best Actress at this year's Federal Film Awards.

None of it felt real. Everything in the past seemed like a mistaken dream—or perhaps everything happening now was a beautiful dream.

It was too unreal.

The female assistant released her hand and sat down on her other side. Nelly naturally raised her arm and handed her other hand to the assistant.

She glanced at her finished nails. They were beautiful.

Was this what life was?

At Nelly's own insistence, her fee was ultimately reduced to eight thousand dollars. However, Fox Film deposited forty-two thousand dollars into Nelly's account under the pretext of "improving the actor's skills before filming."

The company's official explanation was that she was going to take some dance classes and the like, with the company covering the cost. In reality, it was simply an excuse to give her the money.

Her agent clearly conveyed