Chapter 39
Amara’s voice was firm and unwavering. “Ms. Porter, this scene can’t be changed. If you want to shoot it yourself, you have to follow the original script. Otherwise, we’ll have to use a body double.”
She had spent an entire day and night searching for this double, skipping meals and sleep. Exhaustion was written all over her, yet her eyes were bright with dedication to the project. Her intensity silenced those around
her.
“Finn,” Liliana’s voice suddenly softened as she looked at Finnian, her tone laced with a hint of hurt. “I don’t want a body double. What kind of top–notch actor uses a double? Isn’t that an insult to my skills?”
Amara clenched her fists tightly. Finnian approached Amara and said coolly, “Weren’t we supposed to change the scene?”
His words were light, but Amara detected a chill in his tone. Was she imagining it? She met Finnian’s gaze, and his eyes, usually so captivating, dripped with coldness. So it wasn’t her imagination.
“Yesterday, I only said I’d consider it, not that it was a done deal. That’s the first point,” Amara maintained her composure as she explained.
“The second point is that this scene can’t be changed. If it is, the emotional arc between the leads will weaken. This intimate scene is a crucial turning point in their relationship. If it’s altered poorly, all the buildup will be for nothing.”
Amara’s words were somewhat dramatic. The buildup wouldn’t be completely ruined by a small change. However, as a meticulous scriptwriter, she believed every detail needed to be as close to perfect as possible to produce a high–quality show.
If she compromised on one thing and then another, the final product would be riddled with flaws. She couldn’t bear to see that, and neither would the audience.
She laid out her reasoning and added in the end, “Of course, if Ms. Porter isn’t comfortable filming this scene, we understand. That’s why I found a body double. This double resembles her from behind. We only need a side and back shot for the scene. With some post–editing, no one will notice it’s not her. It’s the best of both worlds.” But the credits would list the double’s name–Liliana thought to herself.
She looked back at Finnian and said, “I really can’t accept using a double. No good actor uses one. How about I just do the scene myself?”
Her words were conciliatory, her tone subtly tinged with a vulnerability that would tug at anyone’s heartstrings. Finnian’s expression didn’t change, but his tone grew even colder. “No need for a double. You do it, and change the script.”
“But the script really can’t…”
“If you can’t change it, someone else will,” Finnian interrupted Amara, his voice detached and indifferent.
Amara’s eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at him.
“What did you say?”
Did Finnian mean that if she insisted on not changing it, he’d bring in someone else? For people of their status, words often carried deeper meanings. Was he implying they would replace her as the scriptwriter?
Amara’s fist clenched tight as her fury and frustration surged, filling her chest and making her tremble.
“I can’t let anyone else change the script,” she declared with certainty.
Not altering the script was her unwavering principle. Her work was her line in the sand.
Finnian glanced at her and said, “If you want to stay on as the scriptwriter for this project, make the changes.”
10:10
He checked his watch and added, “You have three hours.”
