tinkling of ice in Miranda？s glass。
？I？m not sure what I believe in anymore；？ Thaddeus responded quietly。 ？I do know one thing；
though。？ He paused。
This was the moment that Vanessa？that everyone on set？ had been dreading。 Serena was
supposed to burst into the restaurant； trailing a tattered mink stole； and join the couple at their
table。
A moment passed。 Then another。
No Serena。 No Holly。 No one。
？Fucking cut！？ barked Ken Mogul。
？Cut； everyone；？ echoed the first assistant director calmly； and suddenly the set came alive： a
swarm of makeup people and hair stylists emerged from the shadows； teasing Thaddeus？s hair；
reapplying gloss to Miranda？s lips。 A prop assistant refilled the glass Miranda had been swirling；
wiping her lipstick from the rim。
？Will someone；？ Ken whispered； ？please tell Miss Fucking van der Fucking
Whatever…the…fuck…her…name…is to get on her damn mark and make this fucking picture； please？？
？Sorry； sorry！？ called Serena； stumbling onto the set； bran…dishing a menacing Bailey Winter
stiletto。 ？I was still in wardrobe。 I？m sorry； these shoes； they？re just？？
？Serena on the set！？ cried the second assistant director。
Thanks for the update。
？Holly； Holly； Holly。？ Ken Mogul shook his head。 ？To your mark； okay？ Let？s do this again。？
The army of assistants retreated to the shadows and they ran the scene once more。 This time； a