“A strong, brave, beautiful spy who values the good of all, sacrificing friendship for her country.”
“Why do you call her beautiful? Was that aspect about the protagonist or the actress playing the role?” The reporter raised her eyebrow as her lips curled. The other reporters by her side couldn’t hide their laughter.
“Well… um, both.” His face flushed, sneaking glances at Ivy.
Ivy just rolled her eyes, ‘what a flirt.’
The reporters didn’t think much about what he said as they settled it for humor. He was just simply telling the facts; Ivy was indeed a beautiful actress.
Isabelle’s blood was boiling, and she felt like glaring at the so-called beautiful woman George complimented. Since the media were present, she had to behave, or her sulky face will be plastered on a poster and sent to the netizens.
“What do you think about the antagonist?” The questions were still coming out. George, with a frown, peered at Isabelle, inclining his head as he studied her face. “Hm.” He rubbed his chin as if he were in deep thought.
“George, I asked about the antagonist, not the actress.” Director Tim facepalmed himself. The actor was being ridiculous; it wasn’t time to play his character, but he was already acting like his character in the press conference. Donna’s partner in the film used silly behaviors in order to hide his true identity. It would be hard to believe a foolish boy was a secret agent.
“The antagonist is a very weak, deceptive individual with loyalty to her criminal organization,” George answered, and the reporter nodded with a slight smile. She thought he was going to compliment her too, but she guessed maybe she wasn’t too beautiful for his liking.
“What particular attribute in the protagonist will be very challenging for you to portray?” This question was directed to Ivy.
“She has multiple personalities, but I will do my best to bring her to life, irrespective of the challenges.” Ivy simply poured her heart out; she was ready to play the character perfectly.
With a few more questions by the media and the closing speech, the press conference came to an end.
A group of reporters went after Ivy, asking for an interview. They wouldn’t miss the perfect opportunity to interview her. Within a few weeks, she would start filming, so she would disappear from the limelight for some time.
“Please, a few questions, Mrs. Anderson.”
“One question, please.”
Ivy gave them the advantage this time around. Ever since her first scandal, she hadn’t given the media the chance to interview her, especially at the time she showed herself for a few minutes at the press conference for ‘Wedding Catastrophe’ and then disappeared without answering any questions. She stood still to answer their questions. The reporters’ eyes lit up seeing her readiness to cooperate with them.
“Why did you change genres? You’ve never acted in action before; what is your reason for this?”
They had completely forgotten they dubbed her a chameleon actress three years ago. Other gossips after her hiatus must have swept it off their memories.
Ivy gave her answer. “I’m only trying to prove my status in the industry, that’s all.”
The reporter finally understood what she meant, and another reporter kicked off with the next question.
“How do you feel about having a look-alike competing with you?”
“I feel she is not a threat.” Ivy smiled intentionally, hinting she isn’t bothered by her replica using her name to create hype to elevate her fame. She was just a buzzing fly with a borrowed fame.
“Have you both met before the press conference for ‘Wedding Catastrophe’?”
Ivy didn’t answer immediately. It would be a lie to say they hadn’t met before that time, but if she said yes… ‘what difference will it make anyway.’ After all, she didn’t know Irene would be despicable enough to change her appearance to completely resemble her.
“No.”
“The past rumors about your breakup with your boyfriend and seducing his uncle, are they true? If false, please tell us what really happened.”
“This is getting a bit too personal, I think you should let her off, okay.”
Susan said as she appeared from behind the reporters to bail Ivy out. They said one question, but it was turning into a bombarding interview.
“Please, one more question, Mrs. Anderson.” The reporter followed after Susan, who was escorting Ivy to her car.
“Mrs. Anderson…”
“Mrs. Anderson…”
“They are like annoying flies,” Susan complained. “Couldn’t they just stick to questions concerning the film and your career? Now they want to pry into your love life.”
Ivy chuckled at her manager’s whining. She should understand this was what they use to make a living. They got into the car and drove off. Since the reporters got some answers that got them excited, they lost interest in interviewing the other cast as they began leaving the venue.
“She took all the limelight,” George said, standing beside his manager with his arms crossed. “What a woman.”
His manager, seeing him licking his lips, asked with a frown. “Are you interested in her?” He was very aware he was a playboy, but this actress was off-limits. What is he thinking?
“Isn’t she pretty? Why won’t I be interested in her?” George responded with a stern look, and his manager sighed.
“She is married, for God’s sake.”
“To whom, that old man? How are you sure their marriage is based on love? It’s probably a marriage of convenience.” George chuckled. He felt she deserves a younger man; money wasn’t everything.
“Can you even hear yourself? You are very crazy, stay away from her.” His manager felt like spanking his head to put some sense in there. Something he doesn’t understand what was wrong with his artist, women were his problem, and he hoped they wouldn’t become his downfall one day.
“If you can stop me.” George replied with a grin. His manager lost the will to fight over the issue. If he wants something, he gets it, and there was nothing he could do about it, only to clean up after him like he always does.
“Hi, handsome.” A feminine voice sounded, and both turned to look at the woman who seemed to be looking for attention.
“He… llo… What should I call you?”
Isabelle’s smile dropped, but she still forced her lips to curl up. It was obvious he was hardly sparing her his attention.
“It’s Isabelle, but you can call me Isa,” she said, stroking her tinted nails, swinging her upper body as she batted her lashes.
“O… Kay, um, Isa, I gonna go, you know, it’s been a long day. I need rest, bye-bye.” He said and walked away, leaving her standing.
Isabelle huffed, biting her lips. “What’s so good about that bitch!”