I stood in front of them now.
The lights felt blinding.
Hot.
Heavy on my skin like judgment.
Thousands of faces staring.
Phones raised.
Screens glowing.
They used to cheer for me.
Once, I was the actress everyone loved—Philippines' pride on the world stage.
Korea's adopted darling.
The "foreign star" who spoke their language fluently, who cried on cue in their dramas, who smiled politely in every interview.
The kind of actress you could trust to never make waves.
Now?
Now, I was a scandal with legs.
A cautionary tale in designer heels.
Because in Korea, a scandal isn't just a story.
It's a brand of shame you can't wash off.
—
When those photos leaked, grainy but unmistakable, I didn't say a word.
Jake and I, leaving a hotel.
His arm around me.
My head on his shoulder.
Secret lovers.
Because that's the only way we could exist.
He was Jake Tan, top idol of Zero. Korea's Golden Boy.
I was the foreign actress who was supposed to be smart enough to know better.
We hid because we had to.
Because cancel culture doesn't forgive.
And when it got out?
He said nothing.
Giselle said nothing.
Their company shut it down with silence.
And me?
My own company told me to do the same.
Because that's how you survive.
Let the public write the story for you.
Let them decide who to hate.
And they did.
They wrote me as the slut.
The outsider who tempted their idol away.
Never mind that he cheated.
Never mind that i ended it when i found out.
It didn't matter.
Because Giselle Lim wasn't just anyone—she was Korea's sweetheart.
Aurora Entertainment's jewel.
We were under the same company.
Her, the idol princess.
Our scandal wasn't just messy, it was bad for business.
When it broke, the headlines were brutal:
"International Star Margaux Serene Imperial in Love Triangle with Zero's Jake Tan and Aurora's Giselle Lim."
Comment sections called me witch. Seductress. Whore.
I lost sponsors.
Drama producers quietly replaced me.
My own company was furious.
But they wouldn't clear my name.
Because acknowledging it would drag Giselle down too.
So they chose silence.
And they told me to choose it too.
Because that's how you keep working.
That's how you keep food on your staff's tables.
That's how you stay "marketable."
But silence has a price.
It means swallowing the names they call you.
It means reading threats in your DMs at 3 a.m.
It means letting your own family see you crucified in comments.
And you can't say a damn thing.
Because here, explaining is worse.
Here, denying is arrogance.
Here, defending yourself is "disrespect."
So i stood there on stage, hearing the roar of the crowd.
My song was about heartbreak.
Not just romantic, but the heartbreak of losing everything for the sake of survival.
The piano intro floated across the arena.
My throat was tight.
But i sang anyway.
My voice cracked on the high notes.
Maybe on purpose.
Because i wanted them to know i was human.
And in the middle of it all, the camera cut to him.
Jake.
Expression frozen, lips a hard line.
Then Giselle.
Eyes wide.
Pretending surprise.
The crowd gasped.
Whispers erupted like static.
But i didn't stop singing.
If anything, I sang harder.
The words hitting like confession.
I let them see it all.
My humiliation.
My betrayal.
My refusal to break for them.
When the last note faded, the silence was suffocating.
Then came the applause.
Louder than i deserved.
Fiercer than i expected.
Some people still believed me.
Some people were crying.
And in that moment, just for a moment, I let myself feel it.
That maybe they saw me.
Not the mistress.
Not the villain.
Just a woman who loved wrong.
And paid for it.
I bowed.
Head low.
Heart raw.
But unbroken.
Because even if they'd already written my ending, I wasn't going to die on their page.
—
I didn't wait for the award to be announced.
I didn't want to hear it.
Didn't want to stand there smiling for cameras while the entire arena whispered like I'd killed someone.
Because that's what it felt like.
That i was on trial for murder.
Of someone's fantasy.
Of their perfect love story.
Of their idol's untouchable reputation.
My heels clicked too loud in the backstage corridor.
I didn't say goodbye to anyone.
Stage crew.
Fellow performers.
I just kept walking, head down, hair falling over my face.
My manager scrambled to keep up.
"Margaux, please wait—"
But i couldn't.
I could still hear the crowd screaming behind me.
Not for me.
For whoever was up next.
Because in this industry, the show always goes on.
Even when it kills you.
I pushed through the exit door into the alley behind the venue.
Cold air slapped my face.
Flashbulbs burst.
Reporters were waiting like vultures.
"Margaux! Margaux-ssi! Is it true you were the mistress?"
"Do you have a message for Giselle?"
"Did you plan that performance to shame Jake Tan?"
Their questions felt like knives, all landing in the same raw wound.
My eyes stung.
I didn't answer.
My bodyguards surged forward, blocking cameras.
My manager's voice was tight. "Back off. No questions."
But they didn't back off.
They shoved mics between arms.
Shouted over each other.
Called my name like they owned it.
Because here, you're not a person.
You're a story.
A headline.
A commodity.
I clenched my fists, nails biting my palms, jaw trembling.
I wanted to scream.
Tell them i wasn't the villain they made me.
Tell them i wasn't anyone's fucking mistress.
Tell them i was the one who got cheated on.
But i didn't.
Because i knew what the company would say.
"Don't make it worse."
"Let it die down."
"Be professional."
Professional.
Like a dog on a leash.
Go where they tell you.
Sit when they say.
Speak only what they approve.
I let my manager steer me to the waiting van.
The door slammed shut behind me.
It went quiet.
Too quiet.
I stared at my hands in my lap.
They were shaking.
My makeup was smudged.
My chest ached like something had cracked and would never set right again.
Outside, the crowd still roared for the next act.
Inside the van, I was alone.
With my guilt.
My fury.
My silence.
Because that's how you survive here.
You swallow the story they write for you.
You let them name you monster.
You let them spit.
And you don't spit back.
You just keep working.
Because the alternative is having nothing at all.