A Reborn Bride Pearl Emerging from Dust novel Chapter 1043

“She’s the one who's been flirting with them. If she hadn’t started it, do you really think they would’ve gone over?” Linnea sneered. “But I guess that’s what you get when you’re the screenwriter—she thinks she’s all that!”

She brought her teacup to her lips, eyes locked on Calliope across the room. Her fingers gripped the teacup so hard her knuckles turned white, the delicate porcelain trembling in her hand.

Sylvia lingered nearby, hesitant to say anything. From what she’d seen, Calliope hadn’t made a move on anyone—if anything, Julius and Ulysses had gone to her first. They seemed genuinely interested, and honestly, who could blame them? Screenwriter C wasn’t just anyone. Calliope wrote the hottest scripts in the industry; latching onto her was more than just smart, it was self-preservation.

Her work had a magic touch: every script was a smash hit, turning unknowns into overnight stars. Who wouldn't want to get in her good graces for a chance at that? It was the kind of opportunity people fought for in this business. Truth be told, Sylvia thought Linnea should consider befriending Calliope as well—having someone like her in your corner could only help down the line.

But Linnea clearly had other ideas. Maybe she liked Julius and couldn’t stand seeing him chatting with Calliope. Jealousy painted every line of her face whenever they were together.

Sylvia hesitated, then quietly offered, “Linnea, she really is talented. All her scripts are incredible. It wouldn’t hurt to get on her good side, you know?”

Linnea scoffed. “Oh please, what’s so special about her? I don’t care how brilliant her script is. Without top-tier actors like us, it would be worthless! Sure, her story can get buzz, but let’s not kid ourselves—it’s mostly the actors making it happen.”

“If the cast isn't already popular, who’s even going to pay attention to her script? People keep singing her praises like she’s reinvented the wheel, but none of this would blow up without talented performers. Actors matter more than any script ever will.”

The question threw Sylvia. She looked at Linnea, then over at Calliope.

To be fair, Linnea was dolled up for filming—her makeup flawless, dressed to the nines in a lavish costume. She looked stunning, yes, but her beauty was bold and almost theatrical, clearly the work of a talented styling team. Calliope’s charm was something else entirely.

Calliope wasn’t even from the entertainment world, but she had an air about her—something ethereal, almost unearthly. She was luminous. Even doing nothing, every gesture seemed impossibly graceful.

Sylvia realized, a little abashed, that she hadn’t really noticed before, but now that Linnea had drawn her attention to it, she found herself unable to answer. Calliope’s kind of beauty didn’t invite comparison; it just was. There was no makeup on her face, but her skin was impossibly radiant, every feature perfectly shaped and symmetrical, not a single flaw in sight.