Charlotte made a break for it from Leo's office.
Even after she'd put some distance between herself and that room, her earlobe was still burning. The man's need for control was even more terrifying than she'd imagined.
She was headed for the elevator when someone blocked her path.
It was Evan.
The moody, detached photography director was actually standing by the glass doors opposite the elevator—without his usual camera slung over his shoulder—like he was specifically waiting for her.
"Charlotte," he said, his voice as cool and distant as ever.
"Evan. Can I help you?" Charlotte asked, her voice steady as forcing her racing heart to settle. She didn't have much patience for this particular "pawn" of a male lead.
"This." Evan handed her a thumb drive and a stack of glossies.
"The original files of the 'Battle-worn' shots from the first show. They're yours. Technically and legally." Evan looked away, unable to meet her eyes.
She took the photos and flipped through them. They were identical to the ones she'd seen trending on social media earlier. Evan had already posted this set to his official portfolio with a caption that consisted of just one word: Divinity.
In the few short hours since they'd been posted, they had absolutely blown up.
"Thanks." Charlotte didn't waste time on small talk; she simply pocketed the drive and the photos.
"And..." Evan's Adam's apple bobbed as if he were wrestling with himself. "I'm sorry."
"Excuse me?" Charlotte arched an eyebrow, wondering what kind of game he was playing.
"The hotel incident, that day at the studio, and... how I've treated you until now." Evan lowered his head, avoiding her clear, piercing gaze. "I... I misjudged you. Your 'battle-worn' look wasn't a cry for attention. It was art."
Charlotte looked at him, remembering the official promo shoot. Evan had photographed every other trainee himself, but he dumped her on his assistant, claiming she failed to spark any artistic inspiration.
For a man who lived and breathed art, admitting he'd been wrong was swallowing a bitter pill.
But she wanted more than just an apology.
"Evan," she let out a short, airy laugh that sounded thin and mocking in the night air. "You think a 'sorry' cuts it?"
Evan snapped his head up, looking at her in confusion.
Charlotte flicked through her phone and shoved it toward him.
Evan stared at the data in shock. "Wait, what the...?"
"The press didn't just 'show up' at the hotel. They were tipped off. And the email that sent them there? It came straight from your studio's IP...."
Charlotte held his gaze, dropping a bombshell he never saw coming.
"The paparazzi who cornered me? They're old friends of your studio—frequent collaborators."
Evan's eyes shrank. "That's impossible!"
"I know it wasn't you," Charlotte said, pulling her phone back with an indifferent shrug. "You were in Iceland shooting the Northern Lights. You have a perfect alibi."
"But Evan, who is your studio actually working for?"
Charlotte stepped closer to him, the cool moonlight hitting her face and making her look like a judge delivering a verdict. "You used the name 'Eclipse Photography' to destroy me once. Now, you're using 'Divine Photos' to bring me back. Do you think that just wipes the slate clean?"
Evan stood frozen to the spot, his face deathly pale.
"I'll find out," Evan said, his voice trembling with the fury of a man who'd realized he'd been played. "Give me three days, and I'll have an answer."
With that, he turned and retreated into his office, looking utterly devastated.
[Ding! Evan's Affection +10%, Capture Progress 35%! Investigation Side-Quest Activated!]
The next morning, before the sun was even up, Charlotte was jolted awake by a frantic voice.
She pushed aside the duvet to see Rachel, who looked like she was on the verge of tears.
"Charlotte, have you seen the trending topics?"
"People are... they're saying such horrible things about you online!"
Charlotte pinched the bridge of her nose and took the phone. A smear campaign was spreading.
#INSIDER SCOOP! Charlotte's hotel seduction of Director Leo was no accident—she's a repeat offender! Insider leaks her "messy" past!#
#White Lily or Black Widow? Digging into the "Hate-Fame" rise of Starlight Girl Charlotte!#
#Leo, Jax, Caleb... How many men has Charlotte actually "serviced"?#
She clicked through them one by one. The "leaks" were a mix of old and new—deep dives into the "Hotel Incident" interspersed with recent interactions with the mentors during training.
The tabloids were pumping these out with a unified narrative and suggestive language. The photos were all "forced perspective" shots: Jax grabbing her wrist looked like flirting; Caleb holding her waist looked like intimacy; there was even a blurry shot of her straightening her clothes outside Leo's office door.
The write-ups were even nastier, painting her as a socialite who had slept her way to the top.
"This is a coordinated hit. They're trying to bury you," Rachel said, her voice cracking as she clutched Charlotte's hand. "Did you piss someone off?"
Charlotte's gaze grew colder as a single name surfaced in her mind.
After Leo had checked her last time, "Little Miss Innocent" had stayed quiet for a while. Charlotte's complete dominance left Emily with no choice. She'd finally snapped.
This kind of smear campaign was low-rent, but highly effective right before a major show. If the audience was pre-conditioned to believe she was "loose," it wouldn't matter how well she performed; her votes would take a massive hit.
Pulling herself back to the present, Charlotte let out a cold snort. "Just another coward who only plays games from the shadows."
"What are we going to do?" Rachel asked, pacing frantically at Charlotte's nonchalance. "Should we put out a statement?"
"No," Charlotte said, turning off her phone and tossing it aside. She lay back down and reached out to give Rachel's slightly chubby cheek a playful squeeze.
"Huh?" Rachel was stunned.
"A smear campaign without hard evidence is like a drop in the bucket—it stinks for a second, then it's gone, " Charlotte said, her voice lazy but sharp. "Putting out a statement now just gives them the engagement they want."
"But the show is tomorrow!"
"Then let it sit." Charlotte closed her eyes, a ruthless curve touching her lips.
"Sometimes, dirt makes for the best fuel."
"The louder they scream today, the harder the reversal hits tomorrow. Get some sleep."
Watching Charlotte's calm demeanor, the panic in Rachel's heart miraculously began to settle.
Hearing Rachel climb back into her own bed, Charlotte opened her eyes once more. She stared into the void of the dark room, her mind terrifyingly clear.
Emily was going for broke.
If Charlotte couldn't achieve "Goddess status" again in the second show, this dirt would be the final straw that broke her.
But if she won...
All the filth thrown at her would become the fuel for Emily's own downfall.
If she wanted a media war, Charlotte would teach her exactly what a "viral backlash" felt like.