When she first entered the entertainment world, she had nothing—no connections or fame. She was stuck playing extras, barely scraping by. I felt bad for her, so I worked behind the scenes, convincing directors to give her a shot. I even endured humiliation for her.
One time, a director tried to drug me to 'seal the deal.'
But back then, none of it mattered. I believed in her, in us.
That belief seems like a cruel joke now.
Luckily, Margot had shown up with the police just in time to save me that day. I still remember how she clung to me afterward, sobbing uncontrollably.
“Frank, I’ll quit acting,” she had cried. “I can’t let you suffer like this, especially not at the hands of some disgusting men…”
Back then, she really did love me with everything she had. We leaned on each other, weathering every storm together.
But now?
Now, she was the one suggesting I seduce foreign businessmen like it was nothing.
It was laughable—absurd.
I felt a burning sting behind my eyes and let out a bitter, hollow laugh, lowering my head to hide the hurt.
“You’re right,” I said, forcing the words out. “I should make the most of this opportunity.”