Laila had never failed before. Her flawless track record made film critics hesitant to criticize her movies. Every time they predicted her film would flop, they ended up being the ones embarrassed. Being repeatedly wrong cost them their credibility. And what's a film critic without credibility? Who would still pay them to review films?
As a result, no one dared to predict anything negative about Laila's movies anymore.
But this time was different.
Just look around—look at the faces of those walking out of the theater. Blank expressions, tired eyes… they didn't look like people who had just enjoyed a cinematic feast.
Should they go with the flow, echo what others say?
Or should they take a chance—call out Laila's failure and maybe rise to prominence because of it?
Several critics lay awake, tossing and turning over this decision before finally making up their minds.
Meanwhile, back at home, Laila didn't immediately rush to her computer to check the reviews for the first time.
She didn't dare. She was afraid—afraid of seeing a flood of negative comments, afraid that the strong kingdom she had built for herself would crumble to ruins with the release of this film.
It wasn't that she lacked confidence. She was just so afraid she'd forgotten what confidence even felt like.
Heaven or hell—it was just one click away. But she couldn't bring herself to take that step. She unplugged her computer, pulled the phone line, and even stopped Roy from checking his phone or laptop. No matter what, she didn't want to know the results today.
"What exactly are you afraid of?" Roy said with a laugh, trying to pull her out from under the blanket. But after several attempts, he still couldn't do it. She was like a hamster burrowing into its nest—completely unwilling to come out.
"It's late. Let's sleep. I'm exhausted." Her muffled voice came from beneath the covers as she wrapped herself up tightly.
This was the first time Roy had seen her avoid reality like this. Holding back his laughter, he gently tugged her head out from under the blanket. "You're going to suffocate like this. I won't check the reviews, and I won't tell you anything, okay?"
Only then did Laila sit up, slightly embarrassed when she saw the smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "I just... want to give myself some suspense. I don't want to know the result too early."
"Of course, whatever you say." When it came to his wife, Roy had absolutely no principles. Forget not wanting to know the reviews—if she said she wanted to conquer the world, he'd be the first to charge into battle for her.
Still, her current state worried him. Avoidance wasn't a solution. With her heart hanging in suspense like this, how could she possibly feel at ease? If you asked him, it was better to face the results head-on and move forward from there.
As the saying goes in the East: "The sooner you die, the sooner you're reborn." How long did she think she could hide like this?
"You've seen the film too. Do you really think I—or Leslie —didn't do a good job?"
"Of course it was good!" Laila didn't hesitate. Their performances were irreplaceable. Without their outstanding acting, the film wouldn't even exist. But just because she believed in it didn't mean the audience would feel the same. "I'm just afraid I'll let them down."
"How could you? Didn't the theater vibe seem pretty good?"
Laila shook her head. "I'm not sure." Something about the atmosphere felt... different from what she was used to. At first, everything was fine—people were shouting "cool" again and again, and everyone laughed at the jokes. But later on, things changed. The audience went quiet.
Sure, there was applause at the end, but she could tell—it mostly came from guests and film critics. It was applause of consolation, not the genuine enthusiasm that usually came from real fans. That left her unsettled—too afraid to even ask anyone what they thought of the film.
"Silly girl." Roy pulled her into his arms, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. "You have to believe in yourself. At least trust my eye for picking scripts, right? If it was bad, would I have agreed to act in it?"
Laila glanced at him, amazed at how thick-skinned he could be to say something like that. "Aren't all your scripts the ones I picked for you?" And every time she made a movie, even if there wasn't a role for him, he'd insist on squeezing in a cameo. He had the nerve to claim he had good taste in scripts?
Roy coughed and said, deliberately, "Exactly. And you see how great all my roles turn out? That just means the scripts you picked are fantastic. So, since you have such an incredible eye, what's there to worry about with a film that captivated you from the start?"
But it wasn't the same.
Laila closed her eyes.
All those roles she helped him pick had already proven themselves in her previous life. Even if they weren't directed by famous directors, those films still did well at the box office or in award circuits.
But Silent had never existed in her past life. She had no idea how people would react to it. She didn't know whether they'd love it or hate it. Even if Roy acted his heart out, if the plot didn't land with audiences, the film could still flop.
Roy patted her arm reassuringly. "Fine, even if you don't trust me, you should trust Leslie, right? He's never asked for your help picking roles, and he's done some great films. Didn't he say on that talk show that it was your script that convinced him to join this project? That proves he really believed in it, too."
Hearing Leslie's name, Laila felt a little more at ease. "You're right."
She felt better.
Roy, however, nearly drowned in jealousy. When it was about his ability to choose scripts, she didn't believe him. But the moment another man's judgment was mentioned, she believed it wholeheartedly? That was clearly favoritism!
He was her husband, after all! Shouldn't she trust him more than anyone?
Laila, now reassured, lay back in bed and quickly fell asleep.
Roy, on the other hand, lay next to her, staring at her sleeping face for half the night. Jealous and restless, he finally drifted off with his mind full of vinegar. His wife clearly held another man in higher regard—and that was a problem. He had to do something. He needed to win back the top spot in her heart!
—
The next morning, when Janette came downstairs, the first thing she saw was Roy sitting at the table, bleary-eyed and eating breakfast without much energy.
"Roy, what happened to your eyes?" she gasped in surprise, instantly drawing everyone's attention to him.
Because of the film premiere, the entire family was staying over for the holidays. Janette's one shout brought all their gazes to Roy's face.